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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM  TO 

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PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


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ANNALS 


OF  THE 


AMERICAN  UNITARIAN  PULPIT; 


OR 


COMMEMORATIVE  NOTICES 


OF 


DISTINGUISHED  CLERGYMEN 


OF  THE 


UNITARIAN  DENOMINATION  IN   THE  UNITED  STATES, 


FROM  ITS   CORIMENCKMENT   TO  THE  CLOSE   OF  THE  YEAR   EIGHTEEN  HUNDRED 

AND  FIFTY-FIVE. 


WITH  AN  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 


BY  WILLIAM  B.  SPRAGUE,  D.  D 


NEW    YORK: 
ROBERT  CARTER  &  BROTHERS, 

530    BROADWAY. 

1865. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864, 

Br  ROBERT  CARTER  AND  BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
Southerr  T'istrict  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


The  preparation  of  the  sketches  contained  in  this  volume 
has,  on  one  account,  been  a  work  of  no  small  difficulty. 
Not  that  there  has  been  any  lack  of  co-operation  on  the 
part  of  those  on  whom  I  was  dependent  for  the  requisite 
material, — for  no  denomination  has  rendered  me  the  desired 
aid  with  more  promptness  and  alacrity ;  but  I  refer  par- 
ticularly to  the  fact  that  there  is  a  great  variety  of  religious 
belief  included  under  the  generic  term,  JJnitarianism,  which 
cannot  be  ignored'  in  any  suitable  estimate  of  its  ministry. 
The  series  of  biographical  sketches  here  presented  will,  it 
is  believed,  form  a  better  history  of  the  denomination  than 
it  would  be  possible  for  me  to  furnish  in  any  other  way; 
for,  though  there  are  many  highly  respectable  names  which 
are  necessarily  excluded,  the  list,  as  it  now  stands,  is  the 
result  of  a  conference  with  several  of  the  most  prominent 
living  Unitarian  clergymen,  as  well  as  some  who  have 
passed  away  ;  and  I  have  endeavoured,  as  far  as  I  could, 
by  the  best  lights  within  my  reach,  to  define  the  precise 
type  of  religious  opinion  which  each  one  held.  This  I 
have  done,  in  all  cases  in  which  it  has  been  practicable,  by 
faithful  extracts  from  the  printed  or  manuscript  produc- 
tions of  the  individuals  concerned ;  but,  where  they  have 
left  no  written  testimony,  I  have  endeavoured,  and  in  most 
cases  have  been  successful,  to  procure  a  statement  of  their 
religious  views  from  friends  with  whom  they  were  in  famil- 
iar intercourse.     In  respect  to  several,  who  died  before  the 


VI  PREFACE. 

division  of  the  Congregational  Church,  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble, at  this  time,  to  ascertain  any  thing  concerning  their 
opinions  through  any  more  authentic  medium  than  a  vague 
tradition ;  but,  from  several  clergymen  who  had  been  inti- 
mately associated  with  these  men,  and  who  are  themselves 
subjects  of  this  work,  I  learned,  in  good  time,  all  that  was 
necessary  to  my  purpose,  in  regard  to  their  distinctive 
theological  views. 

To  each  of  the  many  individuals  who  have  furnished 
letters  for  this  volume,  or  material  out  of  which  the  sketches 
have  been  framed,  I  beg  to  offer  my  grateful  acknowledge- 
ments. I  cannot  forbear  to  say  that  I  am  under  very  spe- 
cial obligations  to  Dr.  Peabody,  Professor  in  Harvard  Col- 
lege, not  only  for  numerous  letters  of  personal  recollections, 
but  for  a  multitude  of  facts  and  dates,  pertaining  to  the 
history  of  many  of  my  subjects  ;  to  the  Rev.  John  Langdon 
Sibley,  Librarian  of  the  College,  for  his  obliging  attentions, 
in  giving  me  free  access  to  the  College  Library,  as  well  as 
in  prosecuting  many  laborious  researches  in  it  for  my 
benefit;  to  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Whitman  and  the  Rev. 
Ephraim  Abbot,  for  communications  concerning  several 
individuals,  of  whom  few  besides  themselves  are  now  able 
to  testify;  to  Mr.  Henry  T.  Tuckerman,  who  has,  in  vari- 
ous ways,  rendered  me  most  substantial  service;  and  to 
Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody  and  Miss  Margaret  T.  Emery, 
whose  graceful  pens  have  refused  nothing  that  I  have  asked 
of  them.  Of  those  who  have  departed,  to  whose  memory  I 
owe  a  large  debt  of  gratitude  in  connection  with  this  work, 
are  Dr.  Abiel  Abbot,  my  early  and  revered  instructor; 
Dr.  John  Pierce,  whose  memory  was  a  vast  depository  of 
biographical  material,  and  who  was  never  more  happy  than 
when  he  was  dispensing  it  for  the  gratification  of  others ; 


PREFACE.  VU 

Dr.  Charles  Lowell,  from  whom  my  numerous  applications 
for  aid  always  met  a  cordial  and  satisfactory  response  ;  Dr. 
Samuel  Oilman,  whose  considerate  kindness  I  found  it  just 
as  easy  to  bring  into  exercise  in  respect  to  other  denomina- 
tions as  his  own ;  and,  finally,  the  Hon.  Josiali  Quincy, 
lately  deceased,  whom  the  lapse  of  ninety  years  left  with 
a  mind  as  bright,  and  a  spirit  as  kindly  and  genial,  as  ever. 

It  will  be  observed  that  there  is  one  sketch  in  this  vol- 
ume — that  of  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot,  of  Coventry,  Conn., — 
that  does  not  come  legitimately  within  my  limits,  his  death 
having  taken  place  since  the  close  of  the  year  1855.  My 
reason  for  making  this  exception  is,  that  his  ministry,  espe- 
cially its  close,  was  more  immediately  identified  with  the 
progress  of  Unitarianism  than  that  of  almost  any  of  his 
contemporaries ;  and  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
exclude  him  without  forming  a  perceptible  chasm  in  the 
history  of  the  denomination.  In  addition  to  this,  I  will 
not  dissemble  the  fiict  that  my  cherished  recollections  of 
his  amiable  and  generous  qualities,  reaching  back  to  the 
period  of  my  very  childhood,  have  predisposed  me  to 
avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  for  paying  a  tribute  to 
his  memory. 

I  cannot  allow  myself  to  hope  that  the  result  of  my 
effort  will  satisfy  all  into  whose  hands  the  work  may 
come ;  but  of  this  at  least  I  am  certain,  that  I  have  done 
the  best  I  could.  If  to  intelligent  and  candid  minds  the 
volume  shall  seem  to  contain  an  impartial  presentation  of 
its  subject,  and  shall  be  the  means  of  correcting  misappre- 
hensions, or  supplying  desired  information,  or  in  dny  way 
subserving  the  interests  of  Christ's  Kingdom,  I  shall  ask 
for  nothing  more. 

September,  1864. 


HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION.* 


The  word  Unitarian^  in  its  most  general  signification,  denotes  one  who 
believes  that  God  exists  in  one  person  only,  in  contradistinction  to  one  who 
receives  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  Under  this  generic  name,  however, 
are  ranged  several  classes  whose  views  differ  widely  from  each  other.  Of 
these,  the  most  prominent  are  the  SaheUians,  who  maintain  that  the 
AVord  and  Holy  Spirit  are  only  different  manifestations  or  functions  of  the 
Deity  ;  the  Avians,  who  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is  neither  God  nor  Man, 
but  a  Superangelical  Being ;  and  the  Humanitarians,  v.'ho  regard  Him  as 
a  mere  Man.  In  respect  to  the  influence  of  Christ's  death,  some  suppose 
that  it  contributes  to  our  pardon,  as  it  was  a  principal  means  of  confirming 
the  Christian  religion,  and  giving  it  a  power  over  the  mind  ;  in  other  words, 
that  it  procures  forgiveness  by  leading  to  that  repentance  and  virtue  which 
constitute  the  condition  on  which  forgiveness  is  bestowed ;  while  others 
maintain  that  this  event  has  a  special,  though  undefined,  influence  in  remov- 
ing punishment,  a,s  a  condition  of  pardon,  without  which  repentance  would 
be  unavailing.  Unitarians  are  generally  Arminians,  and  most  of  them 
believe  in  the  ultimate  restoration  of  all  men  to  holiness  and  happiness  in 
the  next  world.  But,  in  regard  to  the  measure  of  authority  that  attaches 
to  different  portions  of  Scripture,  as  well  as  in  respect  to  many  of  the 
details  of  Christian  doctrine,  there  is  great  diversity.  All,  however,  unite 
in  rejecting  human  creeds  as  of  no  binding  authority.  Some  idea  may  be 
formed  of  the  very  diverse  views  which  are  included  under  the  general 
term, —  Unilariani^m,  by  comparing  the  sketch  of  Dr.  Bezaleel  Howard, 
or  of  Dr.  Hezekiah  Packard,  with  that  of  Dr.  Priestley. 

The  origin  and  early  history  of  American  Unitarianism  are  involved  iu 
considerable  obscurity.  For  the  first  fifty  years  or  more  after  the  settle- 
ment of  New  England,  there  seems  to  have  been  a  very  general  acquies- 
cence in  the  Calvinistic  system,  as  it  existed  among  the  Puritans  at  the 
commencement  of  the  sixteenth  century.  There  is  evidence,  however, 
from  some  controversial  pamphlets  that  still  remain,  that  some  time  previ- 
ous to  the  year  1700,  these  stricter  views  began,  in  some  instances,  to  give 
place  to  a  modified  form  of  Arniinianism.  And  this  tendency  was  silently 
upon  the  increase  for  many  years  before  Unitarianism  was  avowed,  or,  so 

*  In  writing  this  Introduction,  T  have  had  access  to  nearly  all  the  pamphlets  pertaining 
to  the  origin  and  early  history  of  Unitarianism  in  this  country.  For  what  relates  to  its  his- 
tory in  New  York  I  an?  indebted  to  the  Eer.  Dr.  Osgood;  in  Philadelphia,  to  Mr.  John  A. 
McAllister;  and,  in  Washington  City,  to  the  Rev.  R.  R.  Gurley  and  Ex-Prcsident  Sparks- 

Vol.  YIII.  B 


X  HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION. 

far  as  we  know,  existed.  Before  the  great  Whitefieldian  Eevival  oceurred, 
about  the  year  1740,  many  of  the  Congregational  ministers  and  churches 
of  Massachusetts  had  either  partly  or  entirely  abjured  their  original  Cal- 
vinism ;  and  though  one  effect  of  that  great  religious  movement  was  to 
quicken  greatly  the  spiritual  sensibilities  of  multitudes,  and  bring  immense 
numbers  into  the  Church,  yet  another  equally  palpable  effect  was,  that 
those  who  were  not  predisposed  to  sympathize  with  it,  were  thrown  a 
greater  distance  from  the  views  and  spirit  in  which  it  originated.  Even 
many  of  its  earnest  friends  were  constrained  to  acknowledge  that  it  was 
marred  by  some  gross  irregularities  and  extravagances ;  and  there  is  little 
doubt  that  the  reaction  of  these  exceptionable  things  was,  in  respect  to  a 
portion  of  the  community,  strongly  adverse  to  those  views  of  religious  doc- 
trine with  which  it  was  more  immediately  identified,  while  they  were  pro- 
portionally favourable  to  those  tendencies  which  were  ultimately  to  devel- 
ope  themselves  in  a  widely  different  system. 

The  first  Unitarian  clergyman  of  New  England,  of  whom  I  find  any 
trace,  is  Dr.  Gay,  of  Hingham,  whose  ministry  eommeneed  in  1718  ;  but 
whether  he  was  a  Unitarian  at  the  time  of  his  settlement,,  or  what  is  per- 
haps more  probable,  became  so  at  a  later  period,  I  have  no  means  of  deter- 
mining. That  Unitarianism  had  made  some  progress  in  Boston  as  early  as 
1756,  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  in  that  year,  was  republished 
there  "Extracts  from  Emlyn's  Humble  Inquiry  into  the  Scripture  Account 
of  Jesus  Christ," —  a  work  decidedly  Anti-trinitarian.  Dr.  Mayhew  had 
published  a  volume  of  Sermons,  the  year  before  this,  which,  though  not  of 
a  strongly  controversial  character,  left  no  doubt  that  he  was  an  Arlan ;  and 
this,  inasmuch  as  he  stood  nearly  alone  in  the  public  avowal  of  these  views, 
made  him  somewhat  a  man  of  mark.  From  a  letter  written  by  the  Ilev. 
John  Lathrop,  of  Boston,  in  1769,  (an  extract  from  which  is  included  in 
tho  sketch  of  Dr.  Lathrop,  in  this  volume,)  it  appears  that  the  Orthodox 
portion  of  the  community  were  not  a  little  alarmed,  at  that  time,  by  the 
progress  of  Arminianism  and  Unitarianism.  In  17S2  the  Bev.  James 
Freeman  was  settled  over  the  eoagregation  worshipping  in  King's  Chapel, 
which,  until  that  time,  had  been  strictly  Episcopal,  but  which  consented 
now,  at  the  expense  of  dissolving  its  connection  with  the  Diocese,  formally 
to  engraft  Unitarian  views  upon  Episcopal  usages.  Mr.  Freeman  was, 
from  the  commencement  of  his  ministry,  perfectly  outspoken  in  regard  to 
his  religious  belief;  and,  though  I  am  not  aware  that  he  has  published  any 
statement  of  it,  there  is.,  I  believe,  decisive  evidence  that  he  was  a  Humani- 
tarian. When  the  last  century  closed,  most  of  the  ministers  of  Boston  and 
its  vicinity  were  undoubtedly  in  sympathy  with  what  is  called  the  Liberal 
system,  though  the  peculiarities  of  that  system,  it  is  believed,  were  rarely 
preached,  unless  in  a  very  indefinite  manner.  Up  to  this  time,  also,  aad 
even  to  a  later  period,  the  system  of  ministerial  exchanges  had  BOt  been 
materially  disturbed — ministers  belonging  to  the  two  parties  were  in  the 


HISTORICAL   INTRODUCTION.  XI 

habit  of  frequently  appearing  in  each  others'  pulpits,  as  no  lines  of  division 
had  then  been  drawn,  and,  doubtless,  by  this  means,  the  preaching,  on  both 
sides,  was  somewhat  modified  to  avoid  giving  offence. 

In  1784  there  was  published  in  Philadelphia  a  pamphlet,  by  Dr.  Priest- 
ley, of  nearly  sixty  pages,  with  the  following  title  : —  "  An  Appeal  to  the 
Pious  and  Candid  Professors  of  Christianity,  on  the  following  Subjects: 
I.  The  Use  of  Reason  in  Matters  of  Religion :  II.  The  Power  of  Man  to  do  the 
Will  of  God :  III.  Original  Sin  :  IV.  Election  and  Reprobation :  V.  The  Di- 
vinity of  Christ:  And  VI.  Atonement  for  Sin  by  the  Death  of  Christ.  To 
which  are  added  a  concise  History  of  the  Rise  of  those  Doctrines,  and 
the  Triumph  of  Truth  ;  being  an  Account  of  the  Trial  of  Mr.  E.  Elwall,  for 
Heresy  and  Blasphemy,  at  Stafford  Assizes."  This  would  seem  to  indicate 
some  Unitarian  tendencies  in  Philadelphia  at  that  early  period.  Ten  years 
after,  (in  1794,)  Dr.  Priestley,  who  had  been  distinguished  as  the  leader  in 
the  Unitarian  ranks  in  England,  and  was  decidedly  a  Humanitarian,  came 
to  this  country  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  days.  His  great  talents  and 
learning  and  his  truly  philanthropic  spirit  were  universally  acknowledged  ; 
but  the  immediate  effect  of  his  efforts  for  the  promotion  of  Unitariaiiism 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  very  decided.  He  preached  to  a  mere  handful 
of  people  in  Northumberland,  the  place  of  his  residence,  but  he  delivered 
one  or  two  courses  of  Lectures  in  Philadelphia  that  drew  large  audiences,, 
and,  in  1803,  published  his  celebrated  tract  entitled  "Socrates  and  Jesus 
compared,"  which  was  shortly  after  replied  to  by  the  Eev.  John  Blair 
Linn. 

On  the  12th  of  June,  1790,  thirteen  persons,  holding  the  Unitarian, 
faith,  assembled  in  Philadelphia,  for  the  first  time,  to  establish  and  observe 
religious  worship  agreeably  to  their  own  principles.  Among  the  more- 
prominent  of  this-  number  were  John  Vaughan,  James  Taylor,  Ralpb 
Eddowes  and  the  Rev.  William  Christie.  The  meeting  was  held  in  a^ 
room  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania  granted  for  the  purpose ;  and  the- 
number  of  attendants  was  soon  increased  to  twenty-one.  The  religious 
services  were  conducted  by  the  members  in  rotation.  This  small  congre- 
gation continued  to  meet  regularly  every  Sunday  until  the  year  1800, 
when  its  meetings  were  discontinued,  some  of  its  members  having  died,  and 
others  being  scattered,  from  the  frequent  prevalence  of  that  fearful  epi- 
demic,—  the  Yellow  Fever.  In  1807  the  church  resumed  its  regular  ser- 
vices under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  William  Christie,  author  of  a  work  on  the- 
Unity  of  God.  The  place  of  meeting  was  then,  for  a  short  time,  in  the 
Universalist  Church  in  Lombard  Street.  After  a  few  months,  a  private 
room  was  obtained  ;  from  which,  however,  the  Society  was  soon  compelled 
to  withdraw,  their  religious  views  having  excited  opposition  and  alarm. 
A  place  of  worship  was  next  found  in  Church  Alley,  where  they  remained 
undisturbed,  until  a  small  church  was  erected  on  the  ground  where  their 
present  church  edifice  stands.      In  1811  the  project  of  building  a  churcb 


Xll 


HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION. 


uas  started,  and  the  work  was  done,  and  the  house  dedicated,  in  February, 
1813.  Mr.  Christie  conducted  the  services  for  only  a  few  months,  when 
he  was  succeeded  by  three  members  of  the  church,  who  took  charge  of  the 
meeting  by  turns,— namely,  Ralph  Eddowes,  John  Vaughan  and  James 
Taylor.  In  1815  Mr.  Vaughan  ceased  to  take  part  in  conducting  the  reli- 
gious services— in  1820  Mr.  Eddowes  also  retired  ;  and  in  1823  Mr.  Tay- 
lor followed  the  example  of  his  associates.  On  the  12th  of  January,  1825, 
Mr.  (now  the  Rev.  Dr.)  Furness,  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  church,  and 
has  continued  in  this  relation  till  the  present  time.  In  November,  1828, 
their  present  house  of  worship  was  completed.  About  1852  a  second  Uni- 
tarian Society  was  formed  in  Philadelphia ;  but  it  has  not  increased  very 
rapidly. 

When  the  Professorship  of  Theology  in  Harvard  College  became  vacant, 
in  1804,  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Tappan,  Unitarianism  gained  a  marked  tri- 
umph in  the  election  of  Dr.  Ware  as  his  successor.  This  measure  was 
earnestly  opposed,  especially  by  Dr.  Morse,  who  published  a  vigorous 
pamphlet,  shortly  after,  entitled  "  The  True  Reasons  on  which  the  Elec- 
tion of  a  HoUis  Professor  of  Divinity  in  Harvard  College  was  opposed  at 
the  Board  of  Overseers."  It  is  probable  that  this  appointment  had  some 
influence  in  the  establishment,  as  a  countervailing  Orthodox  power,  of  the 
Andover  Theological  Seminary,  o^e  of  whose  first  Professox-s  was  Dr.  Pear- 
son, who,  up  to  that  time,  had  been  a  Professor  at  Harvard.  Cambridge  be- 
came now  the  common  resort  of  most  of  the  students  of  Theology  who  entered 
the  ministry  as  Unitarians  ;  and,  in  1816,  the  Divinity  School  in  connec- 
tion with  the  College  was  established,  with  the  elder  Dr.  Ware  as  its  Pro- 
fessor of  Systematic  Theology  and  Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  Mr. 
Andrews  Norton  as  Professor  of  Sacred  Literature. 

The  next  noticeable  demonstration  in  favour  of  Unitarianism  was  in 
Connecticut.  The  Rev.  John  Sherman,  who  had  been  settled  in  Mansfield, 
as  an  Orthodox  Congregationalist,  in  1796,  became  doubtful,  not  long 
after  his  settlement,  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and,  as  the  result  of 
his  inquiry  on  the  subject,  reached  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not  a  doc- 
trine of  Scripture.  In  1805  he  published  an  octavo  volume  of  200  pages, 
entitled  "  One  God  in  one  Person  only:  and  Jesus  Christ  a  Being  distinct 
from  God,  Dependent  upon  Him  for  his  Existence,  and  his  Various  Pow- 
ers, Explained  and  Defended."  Ry  the  change  in  his  religious  views,  in 
which  this  publication  originated,  Mr.  Sherman  -was  brought  into  such 
relations  with  a  portion  of  his  congregation,  and  with  the  ministers  of  the 
Associa/tion  with  which  he  was  connected,  that  he  deemed  it  expedient  to 
resign  kis  pastoral  charge.  The  particulars  of  the  whole  transaction  will 
be  found  in  the  sketch  of  Mr.  Sherman  in  another  part  of  this  volume. 

One  of  the  clergymen  who  constituted  the  Council  by  which  Mr.  Sher- 
man was  dismissed,  was  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot,  of  the  neighbouring  town 
of  Coventry.     He,   too,  though  settled   over    an    Orthodox    church,   had 


HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

undergone  a  transition  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  Mr.  Sherman,  though 
he  had  never  preached  any  thing  adverse  to  the  commonly  received  creed. 
Suspicions,  however,  arose  that  he  had  become  a  Unitarian,  in  consequence 
of  which,  in  April,  1811,  the  Consociation  of  Tolland  County  assembled, 
by  request  of  the  Church,  to  adjudicate  his  ease,  and  not  only  dissolved 
his  pastoral  relation  to  his  people,  but  declared  him  no  longer  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel.  As,  however,  he  claimed  that  they  had  no  jurisdiction  over 
him,  he  and  the  parish  almost  immediately  joined  in  calling  a  Council, 
consisting,  with  a  single  exception,*  of  Unitarians,  from  Massachusetts, 
who  reviewed  the  doings  of  the  Consociation,  and  pronounced  them  not 
only  irregular,  but  without  authority  and  without  effect ;  though,  in  view 
of  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  they  deemed  it  expedient  that  Mr.  Ab- 
bot's pastoral  relation  should  be  dissolved.  In  the  sketch  of  Dr.  Abbot 
will  be  found  a  more  particular  account  of  his  ecclesiastical  difficulties. 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  though  the  troubles,  both  at  Mansfield 
and  at  Coventry,  were  of  a  highly  agitating  character,  and  were  prolonged 
in  each  place  through  two  or  three  years,  and  though  there  were  many 
who,  for  the  time  being,  expressed  the  strongest  sympathy  with  their 
respective  Pastors,  even  as  the  representatives  of  Unitarianism,  yet,  in 
each  case,  the  controversy  gradually  died  away,  without  any  serious  effort 
either  to  establish  a  new  Society,  or  to  change  the  ecclesiastical  relations 
of  the  one  already  existing.  But  though  both  these  churches  settled  down 
again  very  shortly  under  an  Orthodox  ministry,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
controversies  were,  in  their  general  bearing,  more  or  less  favourable  to  the 
progress  of  Unitarianism.  Several  pamphlets,  written  with  great  ability, 
appeared  in  connection  with  each  controversy,  by  means  of  which  Unitari- 
anism became  much  more  extensively  known,  especially  in  Connecticut, 
than  it  had  been  before. 

In  1804  the  Monthly  Anthology,  a  half  literary  and  half  theological 
Magazine,  was  established  in  Boston  under  Unitarian  auspices,  which  con- 
tinued till  1811,  sustained  by  some  of  the  most  gifted  and  accomplished 
minds  of  the  day.  This  was  succeeded  in  1812  by  the  General  Repository 
and  Review,  which  lasted,  however,  but  two  years.  In  1813  Noah  "Wor- 
cester commenced  the  publication  of  the  Christian  Disciple,  which,  in  its 
original  form,  was  designed  rather  to  discourage,  than  to  promote  and  sus- 
tain, controversy;  but,  in  1819,  the  work  passed  into  other  hands,  and, 
with  the  commencement  of  a  new  series,  it  relinquished  its  neutral  attitude 
and  assumed  the  tone  of  vigorous  theological  discussion.  In  1824  the 
Christian  Disciple  was  succeeded  by  the  Christian  Examiner, —  the  latter 
retaining  all  the  substantial  characteristics  of  the  former, —  which  has  con- 
tinued to  the  present  time.  The  year  after  the  establishment  of  the 
Anthology,  (1805,)  Dr.  Morse  commenced  the  publication  of  the  Panoplist, 
which  was  designed  to  exert  a  countervailing  influence,  and  which  was  one 

*  Dr.  Osgood  of  Medford,  who  did  not  attend,  though  he  wrote  a  very  significant  letter  on 
the  occasion. 


Xiv  HISTORICAL   INTRODUCTION. 

principal  channel  through  which  his  extraordinary  talents  and  energies 
were  brought  to  bear  upon  the  great  controversy.  After  a  few  years  the 
Panoplist  became,  in  part,  devoted  to  the  cause  of  Missions,  and  took  the 
additional  title  of  "Missionary  Herald;"  and,  ultimately,  it  dropped  its 
original  title,  retaining  07ily  that  of  "Missionary  Herald,"  and  has,  for 
many  years,  been  the  organ  of  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for 
Foreign  Missions. 

One  of  the  early  indications  of  the  existence  of  Unitarianism  was  the 
semi-controversial  character  of  the  Discourses  delivered  before  the  Annual 
Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers  in  Massachusetts.  In  1804  Dr. 
Emmons  preached  a  Sermon  entitled  "  Unity  of  Sentiment  among  Chris- 
tians necessary  to  Unity  of  Affection ;"  which,  though  not  decidedly  con- 
troversial, was  evidently  designed  to  be  a  Sermon  for  the  times.  In  1807 
Dr.  Reed,  of  Bridgewater,  preached  a  Sermon,  looking  strongly  in  the  con- 
trary direction,  on  Intolerance  in  respect  to  matters  of  faith, —  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  train  of  thought  being  evidently  much  intensified  by  the  pecu- 
liar state  of  the  public  mind.  But  a  Sermon  of  a  much  more  decisive 
character  was  preached,  in  1810,  by  Dr.  Porter,  of  Roxbury,  on  "  The 
Simplicity  that  there  is  in  Christ  and  the  Danger  of  its  being  corrupted  ;" 
and  yet  it  was  remarkable  rather  for  asserting  that  the  commonly  received 
Orthodox  doctrines  were  not  essential  to  a  saving  faith,  than  for  an  actual 
denial  of  them.  This  Discourse  was,  in  the  direction  of  Unitarianism, 
much  in  advance  of  any  previous  Discourse  in  the  series — it  was  highly 
applauded  by  the  one  party,  and  highly  censured  by  the  other,  and,  on 
account  of  Dr.  Porter's  quiet  and  generally  reserved  habit,  was  a  surprise 
to  both.  From  this  time  onward,  as  the  two  parties  were  alternately  rep- 
resented in  the  preaching  of  the  Convention  Sermon,  the  state  of  the  par- 
ties, not  less  than  the  peculiar  tone  of  the  Preacher's  views,  was  often 
shadowed  forth  in  the  selection  of  the  subject  and  the  mode  of  treating  it. 

The  point  upon  which  the  rupture  began  to  manifest  itself,  in  a  pal- 
pable form,  was  the  interruption  of  the  exchange  of  pulpits.  This  kind  of 
intercourse  between  ministers  continued,  without  much  abatement,  for  a 
considerable  time  after  Unitarianism  had  gained  an  extensive  footing  in  the 
churches ;  partly  because  there  was  little  direct  avowal  of  Unitarian  views, 
and  partly  because  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  break  the  ties  which  had  been 
constituted  by  the  fraternal  intercourse  of  perhaps  many  years.  The  first 
inroads  made  upon  this  habit  of  exchanges,  that  attracted  special  attention, 
were  by  the  Rev.  John  Codman,  of  Dorchester,  and  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Osgood,  of  Springfield  ;  the  former  of  whom  in  1811,  the  latter  in  1812, 
declined,  from  conscientious  considerations,  to  receive  into  their  pulpits 
certain  accredited  ministers  of  the  Congregational  Church,  on  the  ground 
that  those  ministers  had  departed  essentially  from  what  they  believed  to  be 
the  true  faith.  This  decisive  step,  in  each  case,  led  to  very  serious  difficul- 
ties, and  resulted  in  the  withdrawal  of  a  considerable  number  from  the 
Society,  and  the  forming  of  a  distinct  organization.     The  separation  of  the 


HISTORICAL   INTRODUCTION.  XV 

Congregational  ministers,  which  had  been  thus  formally  inaugurated, 
advanced  rapidly,  and,  at  the  close  of  the  controversy  induced  immediately 
by  Dr.  Channing's  Baltimore  Sermon,  of  which  I  am  soon  to  speak,  the 
lines  between  the  two  parties  were  drawn  with  tolerable  distinctness.  But, 
even  at  a  later  period  than  this,  a  Unitarian  was  occasionally  found  in  an 
Orthodox  pulpit,  and  an  Orthodox  man  in  a  Unitarian  pulpit, —  the  Rev, 
Hosea  Hildreth,  who  died  in  1835,  being  the  last,  as  far  as  I  know,  whose 
exchanges  were  indiscriminate.  The  progress  of  the  separation  between 
ministers  involved  also  the  division  of  many  congregations  ;  a  new  Unita- 
rian or  a  new  Orthodox  Society  being  formed,  according  as  the  one  party 
or  the  other  happened  to  be  in  the  majority.  The  bitterness  of  the  strife 
was  in  getting  asunder — since  the  dividing  line  has  been  practically  acknow- 
ledged by  both  parties,  there  has  been  a  general  restoration  of  mutually 
friendly  relations.  The  only  ecclesiastical  tie  between  the  two  parties  in 
Massachusetts,  that  is  not  broken,  is  that  which  is  recognized  in  the  Annual 
Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers. 

In  iSlO  the  Bev.  Noah  Worcester,  then  Pastor  of  an  Orthodox  Church 
in  Thornton,  N.  H.,  published  an  octavo  volume  of  about  180  pages,  enti- 
tled "  Bible  News  of  the  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Spirit."  This  work, 
though  of  a  very  moderately  Unitarian  cast,  placed  him  outside  of  the 
ranks  of  Trinitarianism,  and  was  the  occasion  of  his  being  separated  almost 
immediately  from  his  pastoral  charge,  and  removed  to  a  new  field  of  labour. 
The  book  had  a  wide  circulation,  and  exerted  no  small  influence  in  favour 
of  Uuitariaiiism.  It  was  the  occasion  of  several  pamphlets,  one  of  which 
was  entitled  "  Bible  News  of  the  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Ghost,  as  asserted 
by  the  Rev.  Noah  Worcester,  A.  M.,  Not  Correct,  in  a  Letter  to  a  Friend 
inclined  to  credit  that  News." 

In  1815  a  pamphlet  appeared  at  Boston,  said  to  have  been  published 
through  the  instrumentality  of  Dr.  Morse,  entitled  "  American  Unitarian- 
ism,  or  a  Brief  History  of  the  Progress  and  Present  State  of  the  Unitarian 
Churches  in  America' :  Compiled  from  Documents  and  Information  commu- 
nicated by  the  Rev.  James  Freeman,  D.  D.  and  William  Wells,  Jr.,  Esq., 
of  Boston,  and  from  other  Unitarian  Gentlemen  in  this  country,  by  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Belsham,  Essex  Street,  London  ;  extracted  from  the  '  Me- 
moirs of  the  Life  of  the  Rev.  Theophilus  Lindsey' ;  printed  in  London  in 
1812,  and  now  published  for  the  Benefit  of  Christian  Churches  in  this 
country,  without  Note  or  Alteration."  This  pamphlet  became  immediately 
the  subject  of  an  elaborate  review  in  the  Panoplist,  the  design  of  which  was 
to  sound  the  alarm  of  the  silent  but  rapid  progress  of  Unitarianism  in  New 
England,  and  to  stir  up  the  Orthodox  to  a  united  and  resolute  resistance. 
Hereupon,  Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Channing  addressed  "  a  Letter  "  (through 
the  press)  '*  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  C.  Thacher,  on  the  Aspersions,  contained 
in  a  late  Number  of  the  Panoplist,  on  the  Ministers  of  Boston  and  the 
Vicinity."  This  Letter,  in  replying  to  the  charges  made  by  the  Review, 
denies  that  the  Boston  ministers  have  any  sympathy  with  the  peculiar  views 


XVI 


HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION. 


of  Mr.  H  l:ihara,  and  protests  with  great  earnestness  and  eloquence  against 
the  division  of'  the  Congrega'jonal  Churches,  as  both  unnecessary  and 
deeply  injurious.  This  was  followed  by  "  A  Letter  to  the  Kev.  William  E. 
Channing,  on  the  subject  of  his  Letter  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  C.  Thacher, 
relating  to  the  Review  in  the  Panoplist  on  American  Unitarianic^m,  by 
Samuef  Worcester,  D.  D."  Dr.  Channing  then  published  a  pamphlet  enti- 
tled "  Remarks  on  the  Rev.  Dr.  Worcester's  Letter  to  Mr.  Channing  on 
the  Review  of  American  Uuitarianism,  in  a  late  Panoplist."  Next,  Dr. 
Worcester  published  "A  Second  Letter  to  the  Rev.  William  E.  Channing 
on  the  subject  of  Uuitarianism."  Then  came  another  pamphlet  from  Dr. 
Channinf,  entitled  "  Remarks  on  the  Rev.  Dr.  Worcester's  "Second  Letter 
to  Mr.  Channing,  on  American  Uuitarianism."  And  last,  came  from  Dr. 
Worcester  "A  Third  Letter  to  the  Rev.  William  E.  Channing  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Uuitarianism."  These  several  pamphlets  were  marked  by  great 
ability,  and  became  quite  the  standard  controversial  literature  of  the  day. 
They  were  all  subsequently  reviewed  by  the  Panoplist  in  an  article  of 
great  power,  which,  while  it  was  received  with  marked  favour  on  the  one 
side,  had  to  encounter  an  intense  dislike  on  the  other.  There  were  several 
other  pamphlets  published  about  this  time,  particulnly  one  entitled  "  Are 
you  a  Christian  or  a  Calvinist  ?"  —  attributed  to  the  Hon.  John  Lowell, 
which  attracted  very  considerable  attention.  From  this  time,  Unitarianism 
became  much  more  decided  in  its  manifestations,  and  the  line  between  the 
two  parties  which  had  before  been  faint  and  scarcely  discernible,  began  to 
take  a  form  of  decided  visibility. 

The  first  movement  towards  the  formation  of  a  Unitarian  Society  in  Bal- 
timore originated  in  the  following  advertisement  that  appeared  in  one  or 
more  of  the  papers  of  that  city,  on  the  12th  of  October,  1816  : — "  Divine 
service  will  be  performed  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Freeman,  of  Boston,  to-morrow, 
at  the  Hall  belonging  to  Mr.  Gibney,  in  South  Charles  Street,  to  commence 
at  11  o'clock,  A.  M.,  and  at  half-past  3,  p.  M."  The  desire  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  Unitarian  Church  found  expression  in  a  meeting  held  by  sev- 
eral of  the  citizens,  on  the  lOth  of  February,  1817,  "  for  the  purpose  of 
organizing  a  religious  Society,  and  taking  into  consideration  the  best  means 
of  erecting  a  building  for  public  worship."  At  this  meeting  they  adopted  a 
Constitution,  and  gave  to  the  Society  the  legal  title  of  "  The  First  Inde- 
pendent Church  of  Baltimore."  They  also  appointed  nine  Trustees  to 
superintend  the  concerns  of  the  Society  and  the  erection  of  the  building. 
The  corner  stone  was  laid  ou  the  5th  of  June,  1817,  and  the  building  was 
completed  in  October,  1818,  and  dedicated  on  the  29th  of  the  same  month, 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Freeman,  of  Boston,  and  the  Rev,  Henry  Colman,  of 
Hingliara, —  the  former  preaching  the  Sermon.  The  pulpit  was  supplied 
by  dififcrcnt  preachers  from  Boston  and  its  neighbourhood  uutil  May,  1819, 
when  Mr.  Jared  Sparks  was  ordained  and  installed  as  the  First  Pastor  of 
the  church — this  relation  was  constituted  on  the  5th  of  the  month,  and  the 
Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Channing.     Mr. 


HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION.  XVll 

Sparks  retained  his  connection  with  the  congregation  until  June,  1823, 
when,  chiefly  on  account  of  ill  health,  he  resigned  his  charge.  After  his 
resignation,  the  pulpit  was  supplied,  for  some  time,  by  the  Rev.  F.  W.  P. 
Greenwood,  and  afterwards  by  various  clergymen,  till  April,  1828,  when 
Mr.  George  W.  Burnap*  succeeded  to  the  pastoral  charg-e.  His  ministry 
continued  more  than  thirty  years. 

The  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Sparks,  by  Dr.  Channing,  was  from 
1  Thess.,  V.  21, —  "  Prove  all  things  ;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good."  It  was 
an  outspoken  and  able  defence  of  Unitarianism,  rendering  it  almost  certain 
that  the  form  of  Unitarianism  which  he  himself  adopted  was  Arianism,  and 
that  he  attributed  to  the  death  of  Christ  some  direct,  though  undefined, 
influence  in  the  sinner's  forgiveness.  By  this  Sermon  Dr.  Channing  set  a 
ball  to  rolling  that  did  not  stop  for  three  or  four  years  ;  and,  though  he 
did  not  himself  share  any  further  in  the  controversy  which  he  had  been 
instrumental  of  introducing,  it  called  into  exercise,  on  both  sides,  some  of 
ths  most  vigorous  talent  and  profound  learning  of  the  day.  Professor  Stu- 
art led  off  in  the  discussion,  in  a  pamphlet  of  180  pages,  entitled  "  Letters 
to  the  Rev.  William  E.  Channing,  containing  Remarks  on  his  Sermon, 
recently  preached  and  published  at  Baltimore."  These  Letters  were 
reviewed  almost  immediately  by  Professor  Norton,  in  the  Christian  Dis- 
ciple, and  the  article  was  subsequently  published  in  pamphlet  form,  under 
the  title, —  "A  Statement  of  Reasons  for  not  believing  the  Doctrine  of 
Trlnitarianism  respecting  the  Nature  of  God  and  the  Person  of  Christ, 
occasioned  by  Professor  Stuart's  Letters  to  Mr.  Channing."  This  article, 
in  connection  with  the  Letters  of  which  it  was  a  review,  became,  in  turn, 
the  subject  of  an  extended  review  in  the  Panoplist.  In  1820  Dr.  Woods 
published  a  pamphlet  of  169  pages,  entitled  "  Letters  to  Unitarians,  occa- 
sioned by  the  Sermon  of  the  Rev.  William  E.  Channing  at  the  Ordination 
of  the  Rev.  J.  Sparks."  Then  followed,  in  a  pamphlet  of  150  pages,  Dr. 
Ware's  Letters  addressed  to  Trinitarians  and  Calvinists,  occasioned  hy  Dr. 
Woods'  Letters  to  Unitarians.  In  1821  Dr.  Woods  published  "A  Reply 
to  Dr.  Ware's  Letters  to  Trinitarians  and  Calvinists,"  in  a  pamphlet  of 
228  pages.  Dr.  Ware  followed  this,  in  1822,  in  a  pamphlet  of  163  pages, 
with  an  "  Answer  to  Dr.  Woods'  Reply  in  a  Second  Series  of  Letters 
addressed  to  Trinitarians  and  Calvinists."  Dr.  Woods,  in  September  of 
the  same  year,  published  "  Remarks  on  Dr.  Ware's  Answer,"  in  a  pamph- 
let of  63  pages  ;  and,  in  1823,  Dr.  Ware,  in  a  pamphlet  of  48  pages, 
brought  out  "  A  Postscript  to  the  Second  Series  of  Letters,  addressed  to 
Trinitarians  and   Calvinists,  in  Reply  to  the  Remarks  of  Dr.  Woods  ou 

*  Georgr  Washington  Burnap  was  born  in  Merrimack,  N.  II.,  in  1802;  was  graduatetfi 
at  Harvard  College  in  1824;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  First  Independent  Church  in  Balti- 
more, April  23,  1823;  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  his  Alma  Mater,  in 
1854;  and  died  September  8,  1859.  In  1835  he  published  a  work  on  the  Controversy 
between  Unitarians  and  other  Denominations  of  Christians.  His  principal  late  works  are  Lec- 
tures to  Young  Men;  Lectures  on  the  Sphere  and  Duties  of  Women;  Lectures  on  the  History 
of  Christianity ;  Expository  Lectures  on  the  Principal  Texts  of  the  Bible  which  relate  to  the 
Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  besides  numerous  occasional  Addresses.  He  also  contributed  to» 
Sparks'  American  Biography  a  Life  of  Leonard  Calvert,  the  first  Governor  of  Maryland. 

Vol.  VIII.  G 


xviii  HISTORICAL  introduction. 

those  Letters."  All  these  pamphlets  were  written  with  great  care  and 
ability,  and  may  be  regarded  as  embodying,  on  each  side,  the  most  satis- 
factory view  of  the  subjects  to  which  they  relate,  to  be  found,  perhaps,  in 
the  English  language.  They  are,  moreover,  characterized  by  an  eminently 
catholic  spirit.  There  were  several  other  pamphlets,  bearing  upon  the  con- 
troversy, which  were  published,  about  this  time,  anonymously,  but  they  did 
not  attract  any  considerable  attention. 

The  settlement  of  Mr.  Sparks  in  Baltimore  had  other  bearings  upon  the 
progress  of  Unitarianism  than  have  been  indicated  by  the  controversy  ori- 
ginating in  the  Sermon  preached  at  his  Ordination.  In  1821  he  started  a 
Unitarian  periodical  under  the  title  of  "  The  Unitarian  Miscellany  and 
Christian  Monitor,"  which  continued,  however,  only  two  or  three  years. 
In  October,  1820,  Mr.  William  Nevins,  from  the  Princeton  Theological 
Seminary,  was  ordained  and  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church  in  Baltimore ;  and  the  Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  by  Dr. 
Miller,  and  afterwards  published,  was  considered  as  having  had  a  distinct 
reference  to  the  new  Unitarian  organization.  In  the  third  number  of  the 
Miscellany  there  appeared  "A  Letter  to  Dr.  Miller  on  the  Charges  against 
Unitarians,  contained  in  his  late  Ordination  Sei-mon  in  Baltimore."  To 
this  Dr.  Miller  replied  in  a  pamphlet  entitled  "A  Letter  to  the  Editor  of 
the  Unitarian  Miscellany  in  a  Reply  to  an  Attack  on  the  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  Mr.  Nevins;"  and  the  same  year  (1821)  he  published,  in  an 
octavo  volume,  "Letters  on  Unitarianism,  addressed  to  the  members  of  the 
First  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  City  of  Baltimore."  The  Miscellany, 
meanwhile,  kept  on  publishing  Letters  to  Dr.  Miller,  until  enough  were 
produced  to  make  a  good  sized  octavo  volume,  in  which  form  they  appeared 
in  1823,  under  the  title, —  "  An  Inquiry  into  the  Comparative  Moral  Ten- 
dency of  Trinitarian  and  Unitarian  Doctrines,  in  a  series  of  Letters  to  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Miller,  of  Princeton."  But,  notwithstanding  Dr.  Miller  and  Mr. 
Sparks  were  thus  brought  into  an  attitude  of  theological  antagonism,  it 
seems  not  to  have  affected  their  personal  relations  in  after  life ;  for,  in 
1837,  Mr.  Sparks  requested  Dr.  Miller  to  write,  for  his  "  American  Biog- 
raphy," a  Memoir  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  one  of  the  mightiest  champions 
of  Orthodoxy  ;  and,  as  I  know  from  the  testimony  of  each  of  them.  Dr. 
Miller  disappointed  Mr.  Sparks  by  readily  acceding  to  his  request,  and  Mr, 
Sparks  disappointed  Dr.  Miller  by  printing  his  manuscript,  without  even 
asking  for  the  alteration  of  a  word. 

The  introduction  of  Unitarianism  in  Charleston,  S.  C.  was  in  connection 
with  the  ministry  of  the  Rev.  Anthony  Forster,  which  commenced  there  in 
1815.  lie  was  licensed  to  preach  as  a  Presbyterian,  but  became  a  Unita- 
rian after  his  settlement ;  and  so  large  a  portion  of  his  congregation 
accepted  his  new  views,  that  an  arrangement  was  made  that  secured  at 
once  the  establishment  of  a  Unitarian  church.  The  details  of  this  enter- 
prise will  be  found  in  the  sketch  of  Mr.  Forster.  His  ministry  was  very 
brief,  but  he  was  succeeded,  in  1819,  by  the  Rev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Samuel 


HISTORICAL   INTRODUCTION.  xix 

Gilman,  who  sustained  the  interests  of  Unitarianism  there  for  nearly  forty 
years,  but  in  so  quiet  and  unobtrusive  a  manner  as  always  to  retain  the 
good  will  of  those  from  whom  he  diflfered  most  widely. 

The  first  sermon  ever  preached  in  the  city  of  New  York  before  Unitarians 
as  such,  was  by  Dr.  Channing,  in  a  private  house,  on  the  25th  of  April, 
1819.  On  the  16th  of  May  following  he  addressed  a  large  audience  in  the 
Hall  of  the  Medical  College,  Barclay  Street.  On  the  15th  of  November, 
of  the  same  year,  the  First  Congregational  (Unitarian)  church  was  incor- 
porated. The  first  edifice  was  dedicated  in  Chambers  Street,  January  20, 
1821,  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  Edward 
Everett.  The  first  Pastor,  Mr.  William  Ware,  was  ordained  December 
18,  1821,  and  resigned  his  charge,  September  19,  1836.  He  was  succeeded 
by  the  Rev.  H.  W.  Bellows,  January  22,  1839, —  Dr.  Follen  having  sup- 
plied the  pulpit  during  most  of  the  interval.  The  congregation  removed 
to  the  new  edifice  in  Broadway,  the  Church  of  the  Divine  Unity,  October 
22,  1845,  and,  in  January,  1855,  made  another  removal  to  All  Souls' 
Church,  corner  of  Fourth  Avenue  and  Twentieth  Street,  where  Dr.  Bel- 
lows now  officiates. 

The  Corner  Stone  of  the  Second  Church  was  laid  November  24,  1825,  at 
the  junction  of  Prince  and  Mercer  Streets,  and  the  Dedication  Sermon  was 
preached  December  7,  1826,  by  Dr.  Channing.  This  Sermon  all  acknow- 
ledged was  characterized  by  the  most  bold  and  fervid  eloquence  ;  but  while 
it  was  the  theme  of  the  highest  praise  in  some  circles,  it  was  the  theme  of 
the  most  unqualified  condemnation  in  others.  It  was  widely  read  and  pro- 
duced a  deep  sensation  of  some  kind  every  where  ;  and  it  was  largely  com- 
mented upon  in  the  periodicals  of  the  day,  but  it  did  not  give  occasion,  as 
his  Sermon  at  Baltimore  had  done,  to  any  protracted  controversy.  Mr. 
William  P.  Lunt  was  ordained  Pastor,  May  4,  1828,  and  preached  his 
Farewell  Sermon,  November  24,  1833.  Since  that  time  Drs.  Dewey  and 
Osgood  have  successively  been  Pastors  of  this  church. 

Unitarianism  first  established  itself  in  Washington  City  in  1820.  As 
early  as  1814  or  1815  there  were  several  families,  chiefly  English,  living  in 
Georgetown  and  Washington,  who  were  so  strong  in  the  Unitarian  faith 
^that  they  were  unwilling  to  worship  in  churches  where  a  difi'erent  system 
was  taught.  For  some  time  they  met  together  on  the  Sabbath  in  tlieir 
respective  houses,  and  afterwards  at  a  central  place  in  Georgetown.  About 
the-  year  1814  the  Rev.  Robert  Little,  who  had  been  educated  in  the 
Established  Church  of  England,  but  had  become  a  convert  to  Unitarianism, 
preached  a  Sermon  before  the  Unitarian  Tract  Society  of  Birming'iam, 
which  attracted  great  attention.  This  gentleman,  shortly  after,  from  his 
love  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  migrated  to  this  country,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  engaging  in  secular  business,  the  failure  of  his  health  having  ren- 
dered it  necessary  for  him  to  withdraw  from  the  ministry.  When  the  Uni- 
tarian families  before  mentioned  found  that  they  had  such  a  man  in  their 
neighbourhood,  they  immediately  put  his  services  in  requisition ;  and  this 


XX  HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION. 

was  tlie  decisive  step  towards  the  fuimation  of  a  Society.  Their  earliest 
meetiugs  were  held  in  a  large  room  over  the  City  Baths  in  C  Street.  The 
very  lirst  meeting  was  on  the  31st  of  July,  1820  ;  and  the  record  of  it  is 
as  follows : — 

"  At  a  meeting  of  the  friends  of  Unitarian  Christianity,  at  the  long  room 
over  the  public  baths  in  C  Street,  Moses  Young,  Esq.  being  called  to  the 
chair,  and  Thomas  Bulfinch  appointed  Secretary,  on  motion  of  Mr.  William 
G.  Eliot,  it  was  unanimously 

*^  lit^solvcd,  That  it  is  expedient  that  measures  he  taken  for  erecting  a 
church  upon  Unitarian  principles,  in  the  city  of  Washington. 

"  Resolved,  That  a  meeting  of  the  friends  of  Unitarian  Christianity  be 
held  in  this  place,  on  Siuilay,  the  (Jth  day  of  August,  at  five  o'clock,  p.  M., 
to  concert  measures  for  carrying  into  effect  the  above  Resolution." 

At  the  meeting  provided  for  in  the  last  Resolution,  it  was  determined 
that  the  church  should  be  strictly  Congregational,  and  committees  were 
appointed  to  solicit  subscriptions  for  building  a  church  edifice.  The  build- 
ing was  completed  early  in  1822,  and  was  dedicated  on  the  9th  of  April, 
of  that  year.  As  early  as  November,  1820,  forty-six  persons  in  the  city 
were  found  to  subscribe  liberally  to  sustain  the  weekly  service.  In  August, 
1827,  Mr.  Little,  who  had  hitherto  been  the  only  Pastor  of  the  congrega- 
tion, died  suddenly  at  Harrisburg,  Pa.,  from  an  inflammation  of  the  brain, 
contracted  by  travelling  in  the  intense  heat  on  his  journey  thither.  His 
successors  in  the  ministry  have  been  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Cazneau  Palfrey, 
S.  G.  Bulfinch,  J.  H.  Allen,  M.  D.  Conway,  AV.  D.  Haley,  and  W.  H. 
Channing.  The  congregation  has  never  been  large,  but  many  men  of  dis- 
tinction have  contributed  to  its  support,  among  whom  are  John  Quincy 
Adams  and  John  C.  Calhoun.  Messrs.  Joseph  Gales  and  William  W. 
Seaton,  the  well  known  proprietors  and  editors  of  the  National  Intelligen- 
cer, have  also  been  among  its  most  efficient  members  and  supporters. 

Of  the  details  of  the  progress  of  the  Unitarian  Body,  as  connected  with 
the  Congregational  Church,  from  the  time  that  the  division  was  completed 
to  the  present,  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  speak.  The  following  statistics, 
gathered  from  the  most  authentic  sources,  will,  it  is  believed,  convey  a 
correct  idea  of  the  present  state  of  the  denomination  : — 

There  are  in  the  United  States  about  263  Societies,  of  which  Massachu- 
setts has  164,  and  the  city  of  Boston  21  ;  Maine  has  16,  New  Hampshire 
15,  Vermont  3,  Rhode  Island  3,  Connecticut  2,  New  York  13,  New  Jersey 
1,  Pennsylvania  5,  Maryland  2,  Ohio  5,  Illinois  11,  Wisconsin  2,  and  Mis- 
souri, Kentucky,  Minnesota,  South  Carolina,  Louisiana,  California,  and 
the  District  of  Columbia,  each  one.  There  are  about  345  ministers. 
There  arc  two  Theological  Schools,  one  at  Cambridge,  already  mentioned, 
founded  in  1816;  the  other  at  Meadville,  Pa.,  first  opened  in  1844,  and 
incorporated  in  1846.  Their  periodicals  are  The  Christian  Examiner, 
bi-monthly,  Boston  ;  The  Monthly  Religious  Magazine  and  Independent 
Journal,   Boston  ;    The  Sunday  School  Gazette,  semi-monthly,  Boston  ; 


HISTORICAL    INTRODUCTION.  XXI 

The  Christian  Register,  weekly,  Boston  ;  The  Christian  Inquirer,  weekly, 
New  York.  Their  Missionary  and  Charitable  Societies  are  the  American 
Unitarian  Association,  founded  in  1825  and  incorporated  in  18-i7  ;  the 
Unitarian  Association  of  the  State  of  New  York ;  Annual  Conference  of 
Western  Unitarian  Churches  ;  the  Sunday  School  Society,  instituted  in 
1827  and  reorganized  in  1854  ;  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Know- 
ledge, Piety  and  Charity,  incorporated  in  1805  ;  the  Massachusetts  Evan- 
gelical Missionary  Society,  instituted  in  1807;  the  Society  for  Promoting 
Theological  Education,  organized  in  1816  and  incorporated  in  1831  ;  the 
Society  for  the  Relief  of  Aged  and  Destitute  Clergymen,  formed  in  1848 
and  incorporated  in  1850  ;  the  Ministerial  Conference;  the  Association  of 
Ministers  at  Large  in  New  England,  formed  in  1850;  the  Benevolent 
Fraternity  of  Churches  of  Boston,  organized  in  1834  and  incorporated  in 
1839  ;  the  Children's  Mission  to  the  Children  of  the  Destitute,  Boston, 
instituted  in  1849 ;  The  Young  Men's  Christian  Union,  Boston,  organized 
in  1851  and  incorporated  in  1852  ;  The  Boston  Port  Society,  incorporated 
in  1829  ;  and  the  Seamen's  Aid  Society  of  Boston,  formed  in  1832. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  INDEX. 


[On  the  left  hand  of  the  page  are  the  names  of  those  who  form  the  subjects  of  the  work — 
the  figures  immediately  preceding  denote  the  period,  as  nearly  as  can  be  ascertained,  when 
each  began  his  ministry.  On  the  right  hand  are  the  names  of  those  who  have  rendered  their 
testimony  or  their  opinion  in  regard  to  the  several  characters.  The  names  in  italics  denote 
that  the  statements  are  drawn  from  works  already  in  existence — those  in  Roman  denote  com- 
munications especially  designed  for  this  work,  or  that  have  not  before  been  published.] 

SUBJECTS.  WRITERS.  PAGE. 

1717.  Ebenezer  Gay,  D.  D Rev.  George  Allen 

Samuel  Willard,  I).  D 

Hon.  Solomon  Lincoln 1 

1727.  Charles  Chauncy,  D.  D John  Eliot,  D.  D 

Rev,  William  Emerson 

N.  L.  Frothingham,  D.  D 

Bezaleel  Howard.  D.  D 8 

1739  &  1778.  The  Salem  Barnards John  Eliot,  D.  D 

John  Prince,  LL.  D 14 

1746.  Daniel  Shute,  D.  D Hon.  Solomon  Lincoln 18 

1747.  Jonathan  Mayhew,  D.  D Charles  Chauncy,  D.  D 22 

1748.  Gad  Hitchcock,  D.  D Rev.  Morrill  Allen 29 

1753.  David  Barnes,  D.  D James  Kendall,  D.  D 32 

1757.  William  Symmes,  D.  D Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D 35 

1761.  Samuel  West,  D.D.  (of  New  Bedford)  John  H.  Morison,  D.  D 

Samuel  West,  M.  D 

Charles  Lowell,  D.  D 37 

1761.  Samuel  West,  D.  D.,  (of  Boston)..  .John  Pierce,  D.  D 50 

1761.  Henry  Cummings,  D.  D Rev.  Joseph  Richardson 

Abiel  Abbot,  D.D 

Rev.  Nathaniel  Whitman 55 

1762.  Simeon  Howard,  D.D John  Pierce,  D.  D 65 

1765.  JohnLathrop,  D.  D John  Pierce,  D.  D 

Charles  Lowell.  D.  D 68 

1766.  Jeremy  Belknap,  D.D J.  T.  Kirkland,'  D.  D.  LL.  D 

Hod.  Joslah  Quincy,  LL.  D 

John  Pierce,  D.D 73 

1771.  Joseph   Thaxter Rev.  Calvin  Lincoln 83 

1776.  John  Eliot,  D.D John  Pierce,  D.  D 

William  Jenks,  D.  D 

Hon.  Josiah  Quincy,  LL.  D 92 

1776.  Zedekiah  Sanger,  D.  D Levi  W.  Leonard,  D.  D 

Charles  Lowell,  D.  D 99 

1778.  John  Clarke,  D.  D Hon.   William  Jarvis 

John  Pierce ,  D .  D 

Rev .  Micah  Stone 

Francis  Parkman,  D.  D 105 

1778.  Ezra  Ripley,  D.  D Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 

G.  W.  Hosmer,  D.  D 

Edward  Jarvis,  M.  D 112 

1779.  Joseph  Mottey Rev.  Allen  Gannett 125 

1779.  John  Prince,  LL.  D Hon.  Joseph  E.  Sprague 128 

1779.  Aarou  Bancroft,  D.  D Hon.  Levi  Lincoln,  LL.  D 

Hon.  George  Bancroft,  LL.  D 132 


3^Jy  CHRONOLOGICAL  INDEX. 

SUBJECTS.  WRITERS.  PAGE. 

1780.  Thomas   Tliaclier Samuel  Osgood,  D.  D 140 

1780.  John  Reed.  D.  D James  Flint,  D.  D 143 

1781.  Charles  Stearns,  D.  D Rev.  Nathaniel  Whitman 

Joseph  Field,  D.  D 

Rev.  Samuel  Sewall 

Rev.  John  B.  Wight 147 

1782.  William  Bentley,  D.  D Hon.  Joseph  E.  Sprague 154 

1782.  Eliphalet  Porter,  D.  D John  Pierce,  D.  D 

Charles  Lowell,  D.  D 157 

1782.  James  Freeman,  D.  D James  Freeman  Clarke,  D.  D 

Rev.  Samuel  J.  May 

Frederick  A.  Farley,  D.  D 162 

1783.  Samuel  Kendal,  D.  D James  Kendall,  D.  D 

Alvan  Lamson,  D.  D 176 

1783.  Bezaleel  Howard,  D.  D Rev.  Daniel  Waldo 

Samuel  Willard,  D.  D 

Miss  Margaret  T.  Emery 181 

1786.  Noah  Worcester.  D.  D G.  W.  Blagden,  D.  D 

Thomas  Worcester,  D.  D 191 

1787.  Henry  Ware,  D.  D George  Putnam,  D.D 

Rev.  A.  A.  Livermore 

A.  P.  Peabody,D.D 199 

1788.  John  Allyn,  D.  D Convers  Francis,  D.  D 207 

1789.  Thaddeus  Mason  Harris,  D.  D John  Pierce,  D.  D.. 

Samuel  Osgood,  D.D 215 

1789.  Peter  Eaton,  D.D Rev.   Nathaniel  Whitman 222 

1790.  Daniel  Clarke  Sanders,  D.  D Rev.  Eleazer  Williams 226 

1790.  Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D.  (of  Coventr}^. .  J.  H.  Jones,  D.D 

Rev.  S.A.Smith 229 

1792.  William  Emerson John  Pierce,  D.  D 

Charles  Lowell.  D.  D 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 241 

1792.  Nathaniel  Thayer,  D.D Samuel  Willard,  D.D 

Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody 246 

1793.  William  Wells,  D.  D William  Wells,  Esq 

Samuel  Willard,  D.D 254 

1793    John  Thornton  Kirkland.  D.D.LL.  D. Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D 

Rev.  Daniel  Waldo 

Alexander  Young,  D.  D 

Alvan  Lamson,  D.D 

Rev.  C.  W.  Upham 

Rev.  W.  A.  Stearns,  D.D 

Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody 261 

1793.  Hezekiah  Packard,  D.  D Professor  A.  S.  Packard 

Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D 281 

1793.  Simeon  Doggett Rev.  C.  H.  Brigham.... 291 

1794.  Joseph  Priestley,  LL.  D Hugh  Bellas,  Esq 298 

1794.  Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D.  (of  Beverly) ...  .A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  D 309 

1795.  Jacob  Abbot Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D 

Rev.  Ephraim  Abbot 320 

179G.  John  Sherman Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D 326 

1796.  John  Pierce,  D.  D • George  Putnam,  D.  D 

Rev.  Daniel  Waldo 

John  Forsyth,  D.  D. 

Frederick  H.  Hedge,  D.D 331 

1801.  Joseph  Tuckerman,  D.  D Henry  T.  Tuckerman,  Esq 

Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody 

John  Forsyth,  D.  D 345 

1801.  William  Frothingham Cazneau  Palfrey,  D.D 357 

1802.  William  EUery  Channing,  D.  D Edward  W.  Hooker,  D.  D 

Orville  Dewey,  D.D 

Ephraim  Peabody,  D.  D 

Miss  Elizabeth  P"  Peabody 360 

1806.  Joseph  Stevens  Buckminstcr Joshua  Bates,  D.  D 

Hon.  Edward  Everett,  LL.  D 

JohnG.  Palfrey,  D.  D.,  LL.  D 

John  C.  Warren,  M.  D 384 


CHRONOLOGICAL  INDEX.  XXV 

SUBJECTS.  'WRITERS.  PAGE. 

1806.  James  Flint,  D.  I) Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody 

A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  D 407 

1807.  Nathan  Parker,  D.  D A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  I) 411 

1807.  JohnBartlett A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  D 416 

1808.  John  Lovejoy  Abbot Rev.  Samuel  Sewall 420 

1808.  Samuel  Gary Samuel  Osgood,  D.  D 424 

1809.  Ezra  Shaw  Goodwin Rev.  Samuel  J.  May 427 

1809.  Andrews  Norton Jaazaniah  Crosby,  D.  D 

James  Walker,  D.  D.,  LL.  D 

A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  D 430 

1811.  Samuel  Cooper  Thachcr Prof.  Andrews  Norton 

Jaazaniah  Crosbv,  D.  D 

John  Pierce,  D.  D 435 

1811.  Ilosca  Hildreth Hon.  Charles  W.Upham.. 

Leonard  Withington,  D.  D 445 

1811.  Francis  Parkman,  D.  D Isaac  Kurd,  D.  D 

F.  D.  Huntington,  D.  D 

E.  P.  Whipple,  Esq 449 

1813.  Anthony  Forster 457 

1813.  David  Damon,  D.  D Rev.  Samuel  J.May 461 

1815.  John  Emery  Abbot Benjamin  Abbot,  LL.  D 

A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  D 466 

1815.  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  D.  D Edward  B.  Hall,  D.  D 

Samuel  Willard,  D.  D 472 

1817.  Francis  William  Pitt  Greenwood, D.DThomas  Bulfinch.  Esq 

Rev.  Samuel  J.  May 

Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody 485 

1819.  William  Bourne  Oliver  Peabody, D.DMiss  Margaret  T.  Emery 

Hon.  William  B.  Calhoun 

Samuel  Osgood,  D.  D 493 

1820.  John  Brazer,  D.  D Samuel  Gilman,  D.  D 504 

1820.  William  Ware Joseph  Allen,  D.  D '■ 

A.  P.  Peabody,  D.  D 

Henry  AV.  Bellows,  D.  D 

Orville  Dewev,  D.  D 511 

1824.  Bernard   Whitman A.  P.  Peabody.  D.  D 

Joseph  Allen,  D.  D 518 

1824.  Alexander  Young,  D.  D Hon.  Robert  C.  Winthrop,  LL.  D 

Joseph  Allen,  D.  D 524 

1827.  George  Wadsworth  Wells C.  A.  Bartol,  D.  D 

George  B.  Emerson.  LL.  D 

Hon.  George  S.  Bout  well 528 

1827.  William  Hunt  White Rev.  Ephraim  Abbot 533 

1828.  Charles  Theodore  Christian FoUen.  .Rev.  George  F.  Simmons 

D.  C.  L. Miss  Elizabeth  P.  Peabody 538 

1829.  Henry  Bradford  Goodwin G.  W.  Hosmer,  D.  D 

Cazneau  Palfrey,  D .  D 548 

1830.  Jason   Whitman Joseph  Allen,  D.  D 552 

1838.  George  Frederick  Simmons Samuel  O.sgood,  D.  D.  (of  New  York) 

Samuel  Osgood,  D.  D.  (of  Springfield)  554 

1840.  Sylvester  Judd Thomas  C.  Pitkin,  D.  D 559 

1844.  Hiram  Withington Rev.  Nathanael  Hall 567 


EBENEZER  GAY,  D.  D  * 

1717—1787. 

Ebenezer  Gat,  the  youngest  son  of  Nathaniel  and  Lydia  Gay,  wa.s 
born  in  Dedham,  Mass.,  xVugust  15,  1696.  He  early  discovered  a  taste 
for  learning,  and,  after  having  enjoyed  for  some  time  the  advantages  of 
the  town-school  at  Dedham,  was  sent  to  Harvard  College,  where  he  grad- 
uated in  1714.  The  next  year  he  taught  the  Grammar  School  in  Iladley, 
as  appears  from  two  of  his  letters  still  extant,  though  it  is  stated  that  he 
taught  for  some  time  also  in  Ipswich,  for  which  he  was  paid  fifty  pounds. 
Having  studied  Theology,  probably  in  connection  with  his  labours  as  a 
teacher,  he  commenced  preaching  in  September,  1717,  as  a  candidate,  to 
the  Church  and  Society  in  Hingham,  then  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Rev. 
John  Norton. t  The  result  was  that,  on  the  30th  of  December  following, 
he  received  a  call  to  become  tlieir  Pastor.  In  due  time,  he  signified  his 
acceptance  of  the  call;  and,  on  the  11th  of  June,  1818,  was  ordained  and 
installed, —  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  llev.  Joseph 
Belcher,  of  Dedham.  He  brought  with  him  to  the  ministry  a  high  repu- 
tation for  scholarship  ;  and,  while  yet  quite  a  young  man,  attracted  the 
particular  notice  of  Governor  Burnet,  who  is  said  to  have  remarked  that 
he  and  Mr.  Bradstreet,  of  Charlestown,  were  at  the  head  of  the  clergy  of 
New  England,  in  respect  to  erudition. 

In  the  great  religious  excitement  that  prevailed  about  the  year  1740,  in; 
connection  with  the  labours  of  Whitefield,  Mr.  Gay  had  little  complacency. 
His  name  is  signed  to  a  paper  entitled  "  The  Sentiments  and  Ilesolutions 
of  an  Association  of  Ministers,  convened  at  Weymouth,  January  15,  1745," 
in  which  they  bear  testimony  against  Whitefield's  "enthusiastic  spirit,"" 
against  his  preaching,  as  "  having  a  tendency  to  promote  a  spirit  of  bitter, 
ness,"  and  "  his  practice  of  singing  hymns  in  the  public  roads,  wlien  riding 
from  town  to  town ;"  and  they  declare  that  they  will  not,  directly  or 
indirectly,  encourage  him  to  preach,  either  publicly  or  privately,  in  their 
respective  parishes. 

Mr.  Gay  received  many  testimonies  of  public  respect,  both  in  his  earlier 
and  his  later  days.  He  preached  the  Artillery  Election  Sermon,  in  1728  ;. 
the  General  Election  Sermon,  in  1745  ;  the  Sermon  before  the  Convention, 
of  Congregational  Ministers,  in  1746  ;  and  the  Dudleian  Lecture,  in  1750. 
He  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  from  Harvard  College,  in 
1785. 

In  1781    he  delivered  a  sermon  on  his  eighty.fifth  birth-day,  which  was 

*  Dr.  Shute's  Fun.  Serm.  Appendix  to  the  Old  Man's  Calendar,  1846.  Lincoln's  Hist, 
of  Hingham.     Mass.  Gazette,  1787.     Deane's  Hist,  of  Soituate.     Winsor's  Hist.of  Danbury. 

f  John  Norton,  a  son  of  William  Norton,  of  Ipswich,  and  a  nephew  of  the  Rev.  John 
Norton,  of  Boston,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1671,  was  ordained  and  installed  Col- 
league Pastor  with  the  Rev.  Peter  Hobart,  of  the  Church  in  Hingham,  November  27,  1678; 
and  died  October  3,  1716,  in  the  sixty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and  thirty-eighth  of  his. 
ministry. 

Vol.  VIII.  1 


2  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

puLlished  under  the  title  of  "  The  Old  Man's  Calendar."  It  has  passed 
through  several  editions  in  this  country,  has  been  reprinted  in  England, 
and  translated  into  the  Dutch  language  and  published  in  Holland.  The 
text  of  the  Sermon  is  "  I  am  this  day  four  score  and  five  years  old." 
Tlie  following  paragraph  forms  the  conclusion  of  the  discourse  : — 

"  Lo,  now,  my  brethren,  I  am  this  day  fourscore  and  five  years  old, — a  wonder  of 
God's  sparing  mercy:  Sixty-three  of  these  years  have  I  spent  in  the  work  of  the 
ministry  among  you.  One  hundred  and  forty-six  years  ago,  your  fathers  came  with 
IaA:  I'astor,  and  settled  in  this  place.  I  am  the  third  in  the  pastorate  of  this  cliurch, 
which  hath  not  been  two  years  vacant.  Scarce  any  parish  but  hath  liad  more  in  tljat 
office  in  so  long  a  space  of  time.  The  people  of  this  have  been  steady  to  their  own 
ministers,  living  to  old  age;  have  not  been  given  to  change,  nor  with  itching  ears  have 
heaped  to  themselves  teachers.  I  bless  God,  who  dii>posed  my  lot  among  a  people 
with  whom  I  have  lived  here  in  great  peace,  eleven  years  longer  than  either  of  my 
worthy  predecessors.*  I  have  only  to  wish  that  my  labours  had  been  as  profitable 
as  they  have  been  acceptable  to  them.  1  retain  a  grateful  sense  of  the  kindnesses 
(injuries  I  remember  none)  which  I  received  from  them.  While  I  have  reaped  of 
their  carnal  things  to  my  comfortable  subsistence,  it  hath  been  my  great  concern  and 
pleasure  to  sow  unto  them  spiritual  things,  which  might  spring  up  in  a  harvest  of 
eternal  blessings.  That  their  affections  to  me  as  their  Pastor  have  continued  from 
fathers  to  children,  and  children's  children,  hath  been  thankfully  observed  by  me,  and 
should  have  been  improved  as  an  advantage  and  incentive  to  do  them  (in  returns  of 
love  for  love)  all  possible  good.  It  is  but  little  that  I  can  now  do  in  the  work  to  which 
I  am  kept  up  so  late  in  the  evening  of  my  days,  and  my  i)eople  may  feel  their  great 
need  of  one  more  able  in  body  and  mind  to  serve  them  in  the  Gospel  ministry.  In 
tills  case,  my  brethren,  I  hope  that  no  partial  regard  to  me,  or  parsimonious  view  to 
your  worldly  interest,  will  hinder  j'our  timely  jiroviding  yourselves  with  such  an  one. 
As  much  as  I  dread  and  deprecate  the  being  cut  down  as  acumberer  of  the  ground,  in 
this  part  of  the  Lord's  vineyard,  I  would  not,  with  my  useless  old  age,  fill  up  the  place, 
and  deprive  you  of  the  help  of  a  profitable  labourer  in  it.  I  siibn;iit  to  the  wisdom 
and  will  of  (Jod  my  own  desire  to  finish  my  course  of  life,  and  the  ministry  I  have 
received  of  Him.  together;  while  I  make  the  humble  acknowledgment  and  prayer  to 
Him  in  Psalm  Ixxi — ''  0  God,  thou  hast  taught  me  from  my  youth,  and  hitherto  have 
I  declared  thy  wondrous  works;  now,  also,  when  I  am  old  and  gray-headed,  O  God. 
forsake  me  not,  until  I  have  showed  tliy  strength  unto  this  generation."  Caleb,  when 
he  was  as  old  as  I  am,  could  say, — "As  yet  1  am  as  strong  this  day  as  I  was  in  the 
day  that  Moses  sent  me;"  that  is,  when  he  was  forty  years  old.  "  As  my  strength 
was  then,  even  so  my  strength  is  now,  for  war,  both  to  go  out  and  to  come  in."  It  is 
far  otherwise  with  me;  yet  what  remaineth  of  the  little  strength  I  ever  had  for  the 
ministerial  warfare,  I  would  as  gladly  spend  in  the  service  of  your  souls,  and  assist 
you  all  I  can  in  your  Christian  combat  against  the  enemies  whicli  oppose  your  salvation. 
This  would  I  do,  God  enabling  me,  as  long  as  I  am  in  this  tabernacle  of  frail  flesh, 
knowing  that  I  must  shortly  put  it  off,  and  exchange  the  sacred  desk  for  the  silent 
grave.  But,  0  my  soul,  how  awful  the  long,  the  very  long  and  strict  account  to  be 
given  to  God  of  thyself  and  of  thousands  more  committed  to  thy  charge,  to  watch  also 
for  tiieir  safety  and  everlasting  ha]»piness !  Brethren,  pray  for  me,  that  I  may  find 
mercy  of  the  Lord  in  that  day;  which,  if  I  should  fail  of,  it  had  been  good  lor  me, 
and  perhaps  for  yon  also,  perishing  by  my  neglect,  that  I  had  never  been  born:  the 
consitleration  of  which  should  excite  my  utmost  care  and  diligence  to  make  full  proof 
of  my  ministry,  and  engage  your  attendance  upon  it  in  such  a  manner  as  will  show 
you  are  not  grown  into  a  weariness  of  it,  which  would  render  it  unprofitable  to  you.  I 
have  l.een  young  and  now  am  old.  Your  fathers  despised  not  my  youth  for  its  weak- 
.ness,  Ivor  have  yon  my  old  age  for  the  infirmities  that  attend  it;  wliich  giveth  some 
cnconragenient  to  hope  that  my  long  continuance  with  you  is  not  so  much  to  the 
hiinlrauce  of  tiie  (jospel  of  Christ,  and  detriment  to  your  spiritual  interests,  as  I  am 
■ofUMi  ready  to  fear.  After  some  decay  or  interruption  of  the  Philippians'  liberality 
to  Paul,  he  thus  writeth  unto  them,  (Phil.  iv.  10.)  "  I  rejoice  in  the  Lord  greatly  that 
now,  at  the  last,  your  care  of  me  hath  flourished  again."  So  hath  yours  of  me.  I 
mav  add,  as  he  doth, — "  not  that  I  speak  in  resjjcct  of  want,"  which  you  have  let  me 
suflfer  in  these  didienlt  limes.  You  lay  fresh  cngag^'ments  upon  nie  to  exert  myself 
.in .the  serAuce  of  your  souls;  and  if  the  God  of  my  life  :»nd  health  prolong  the  same 
any  farther,  I  would  go  on  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord  (iod  to  labour  for  your  salvation, 
.ardently  lalwnring  for  the  gracious  commendation,  which  the  minister  of  the  Church 
■in  Tliyatira  received  from  (Christ,  (Rev.  II.  19,)  "  1  know  thy  works  and  the  last  to  be 

•  The  Rev.  Peter  Ilobart  and  the  Rev.  John  Norton. 


EBENEZER   GAY.  3 

more  than  the  first."  That  mine  may  be  more  faithful  and  more  successful,  God,  of 
his  mercy  to  me  and  you,  grant  for  Christ's  sake.  And  now,  Brethren,  I  commend 
you  to  God  and  to  the  word  of  his  grace,  wliich  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to  give 
you  an  inheritance  among  all  them  that  are  sanctified." 

Dr.  Gay  retained  his  faculties,  bodily  and  mental,  in  remarkable  vigour, 
till  the  close  of  life.  On  Sabbath  morning,  the  8th  of  March,  1787,  when 
he  was  preparing  for  the  usual  public  services  of  the  Sabbath,  he  was 
attacked  with  a  sudden  illness,  which  terminated  fatally  within  an  hour. 
He  had  reached  the  ninety-first  year  of  his  age.  The  length  of  his  min- 
istry, from  the  day  of  his  Ordination  till  his  decease,  was  sixty-eight  years, 
nine  months  and  seven  days  ;  and,  including  the  time  of  his  preaching  pre- 
vious to  his  settlement,  his  ministry  falls  short,  by  a  few  months  only,  of 
seventy  years.  Dr.  Shute,  of  the  Second  Parish  in  Hingham,  preached  his 
Funeral  Sermon,  in  which  he  speaks  in  strong  terms  of  the  learning,  liber- 
ality, candour  and  strength  of  mind,  of  liis  deceased  friend. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Gay's  publications  : — 

A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Joseph  Green,*  of  Barnstable,  1725. 
Two  Lecture  Sermons  in  Hingham,  1728.  Artillery  Election  Sermon, 
1728.  A  Lecture  in  Hingham  on  occasion  of  the  Arrival  of  Governor. 
Belcher,  1730.  A  Sermon  before  several  Military  Companies  in  Hingham, 
1738.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Ehenezer  Gay,  Jr.,  Suffield,  1742. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  the  lie  v.  John  Hancock,  Braintree,  1744.  The 
Massachusetts  J^lection  Sermon,  1745.  A  Sermon  before  the  Conven- 
tion of  Congregational  Ministers  in  Massachusetts,  1746.  A  Sermon  at 
tlie  Ordination  of  J(Miathun  Mayhew,  Boston,  1747.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  Jonathan  Dorby,t  Scituate,  1751.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Instalment  of  the  Rev.  .  Ezra  Carpenter, t  Keene,  1753.  A  Sermon 
at  tlie  Instalment  of  the  Rev.  Grindall  Rawson,  Yarmouth  1755.  Dud. 
leian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College,  1759.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Dr. 
Mayhew,  1766.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination,  at  Hingham,  of  Caleb 
Gannett,  over  a  Church  in  Nova  Scotia,  1768.  Thanksgiving  Sermon, 
1770.     Old  Man's  Calendar,  1781. 

He  was  married,  on  the  3d  of  November,  1719,  to  Jerusha,  daughter  of 
Samuel  Bradford,  of  Duxbury,  the  son  of  Major  William  Bradford,  and 
the  grandson  of  Gov.  Bradford.  Mrs.  Gay  died,  August  19,  1783,  aged 
eighty-five  years.  They  had  eleven  children, —  five  sons  and  six  daughters. 
Sa?m(el,  the  eldest  son,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1740,  in  the 
class  of  Gov.  Samuel  Adams,  President  Langdon,  &c.,  and  was  sent  abroad 
for  a  medical  education.  He  died  at  Chelsea,  England,  March  26,  1746. 
Calvin,  the  second    son,   received  a   mercantile  education,  and   settled  in 

•  Joseph  Green  was  born  in  Boston,  June  21,  1704  ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College, 
in  1720;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Barnstable,  May  12,  1725,  and 
died  October  4,  1770.  He  published  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  hisson  Joseph  Green, 
Jr. — who  was  born  in  Barnstable;  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1746;  was  ordained  at 
Marshficld  in  1753 ;  was  subsequently  dismissed  and  installed  at  Yarmouth  ;  and  died  Novem- 
ber 5,  1768,  aged  forty-two. 

I  Jonathan  Dorby  was  a  native  of  Boston;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1747; 
was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Scituate,  November  13,  1751;  and  died 
April  22,  1754,  aged  twenty-eight  years.  He  died  at  Hingham,  whither  he  had  gone  to  preach 
a  lecture. 

X  Ezra  Carpenter  was  born  at  Rehoboth;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1720; 
was  ordained  and  installed  at  Hull,  November  24,  1728;  was  subsequently  dismissed,  and  then 
installed  at  Keene,  N.  H.,  October  4,  1753;  was  dismissed  a  second  time,  March  16,  1769; 
and  died  October  26,  1785,  aged  eighty-three,  or  according  to  one  authority,  eighty-six. 


4  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Quebec,  where  he  died  March  11,  1765,  Martin,  the  tliird  son,  was  a 
coppcr.smith,  and  was  established  in  business  in  Boston.  He  was  a  Deacon 
of  the  West  Chureli,  and  Captain  of  the  Ancient  and  Honourable  Artillery 
Company. 

The  following  anecdote  concerning  Dr.  Gay  has  been  communicated  to 
me,  by  the  Rev.  George  Allen,  of  Worcester  : — 

During  the  Revolutionary  War,  a  little  before  the  time  of  the  Annual 
Thanksgiving,  and  when  it  was  generally  expected  that  there  would  be  a 
great  deficiency  of  the  foreign  fruits,  as  raisins,  currants,  &c.,  with  which 
that  festival  had  abounded,  several  English  vessels,  laden  with  those 
productions,  were  driven  by  a  storm  upon  our  coast,  captured  and  brought 
into  Boston.  Dr.  Gay,  who  was  considered  a  prudent  loyalist,  was 
accustomed,  on  Tlianksgiving  days,  to  make  mention  in  his  prayer  of  the 
speciiil  blessings  of  the  year.  Such  a  token  of  Divine  favour  did  not  escape 
without  due  notice.  Accordingly,  in  his  Thanksgiving  prayer,  he  grate- 
fully acknowledged  the  unexpected  bounty  somewhat  after  this  sort : — "Oh, 
Lord,  who  art  the  infinitely  wise  Disposer  of  all  things,  who  rulest  the 
■winds  and  the  waves  according  to  thy  own  good  pleasure,  we  devoutly 
thank  thee  for  the  gracious  interposition  of  thy  Providence,  in  wafting 
upon  our  shores  so  many  of  thy  rich  bounties,  to  make  glad  the  dwellings 
of  thy  people  on  this  joyful  occasion."  Shortly  after  its  occurrence,  some 
one  repeated  the  Doctor's  ejaculation  to  Samuel  Adams,  who,  with  his 
usual  promptness  and  decision,  exclaimed, — "  That  is  trimming  with  the 
Almighty." 

The  following  I  received  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Willard,  of  Deer- 
field  :— 

Dr.  Gay  had,  for  some  time,  missed  the  hay  from  his  barn,  and  was 
satisfied  that  it  was  stolen.  With  a  view  to  detect  the  thief,  he  took  a 
dark  lantern,  and  stationed  himself  near  the  place,  where  he  supposed  he 
must  pass.  In  due  time,  a  person,  whom  he  knew,  passed  along  into  his 
barn,  and  quickly  came  out  with  as  large  a  load  of  hay  as  he  could  carry 
upon  his  back.  The  Doctor,  without  saying  a  word,  followed  the  thief,  and 
took  the  candle  out  of  his  dark  lantern,  and  stuck  it  into  the  hay  upon  his 
back,  and  then  retreated.  In  a  moment  the  hay  was  in  a  light  blaze  ;  and 
the  fellow,  throwing  it  from  him.  in  utter  consternation,  ran  away  from  his 
perishing  booty.  The  Doctor  kept  the  affair  a  secret,  even  from  his  own 
family;  and,  within  a  day  or  two,  the  thief  came  to  him  in  great  agitation, 
and  told  hin\  that  he  wished  to  confess  to  him  a  grievous  sin  ; — that  he  had 
been  tempted  to  steal  some  of  his  hay  ;  and,  as  he  was  carrying  it  away, 
the  Almighty  was  so  angry  with  him  that  He  had  sent  fire  from  heaven, 
and  set  it  to  blazing  upon  his  back.  The  Doctor  agreed  to  forgive  him  on 
condition  of  his  never  repeating  the  offence. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  an  article  that  appeared  in  the  Massa- 
chusetts Gazette,  shortly  after  Dr.  Gay's  death  : — 

By  his  inoffensive  and  condescending  conduct,  he  manifested  the  pacific  disposition 
of  his  licart,  and  rendered  liis  unwearied  exertions  to  promote  peace  and  good  order 
more  cfroctiial.  In  ecclesiastical  councils,  (to  which  he  was  formerly  often  invited,) 
his  wisdom  and  benevolence  were  conspicuous,  and  gave  him  great  advantage  in  com- 
posing differences,  and  healing  divisions,  subsisting  in  churches. 

"  Though  his  conversation  abroad  might  seem  reserved,  yet,  in  private,  among  his 


EBENEZER    GAY.  & 

friends,  it  was  free,  instructive  and  cdif^-ing;  the  salutary  effects  of  which  have  been 
sensibly  felt  by  his  brethren  in  tlie  ministry;  and  his  kind,  parental  treatment  will  ever 
be  acknowledged  by  them  His  piaj'ers  were  rational  and  devout,  and  well  adapted 
to  the  various  occasions  of  life.  Enthusiasm  and  superstition  formed  no  part  of  his 
religious  cliaracter.  In  his  Christian  warfare,  he  did  not  entangle  himself  with  the 
affairs  of  this  lif',  but  liis  conversation  was  in  Heaven.  In  times  of  sickness,  and  in 
the  near  views  of  dissolution,  he  appeared  to  have  composure  and  resignation  of  mind, 
and  hopes  full  of  immortality. 

"  His  prudent  and  obliging  conduct  rendered  him  amiable  and  beloved  as  a  neighbour. 
His  tenrler  feelings  for  the  distressed  induced  him  to  afford  relief  to  the  poor,  acconling 
to  his  ability.  His  beneficent  actions  indicated  the  practical  sense  he  had  of  his  Lord's 
own  words. — "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  tlian  to  receive."  The  serenity  of  his  mind, 
and  evenness  of  his  temper,  under  the  infirmities  of  advanced  years,  made  him  agreeiible 
to  his  friends,  and  continued,  to  tlie  last,  the  happiness  whicli  had  so  long  subsisted  in 
his  family;  in  wliich  he  always  i)resided  with  great  tenderness  and  dignity.  A  reflec- 
tio'i  on  the  indulgence  of  Heaven  in  the  long  enjoyment  of  so  affectionate  and  worthy 
a  parent,  and  the  hopeful  prospect  of  his  hapiiiness  btyond  the  grave,  must  inspire 
them  with  gratitude,  and  lead  them  into  a  cordial  acquiescence  in  the  painful  separa- 
tion." 

FROM  THE  HON.  SOLOMON  LINCOLN. 

HiNGHAM,  February  6,  1864. 

My  dear  Sir  :  The  Rev.  Dr.  Gay  was  the  third  minister  of  this  my  native  town, 
and  of  the  parish  in  which  I  was  born  and  nurtured.  Though  he  had  passed 
away  before  I  came  upon  the  stage,  I  have  had  a  good  opportunity  of  exploring 
the  best  souices  of  information  concerning  liim,  and  of  gathering  many  tradi- 
tionary reminiscences  illustrative  of  his  character.  I  think  I  shall  he  able  to 
give  you  a  tolerably  correct  idea  of  hiui. 

Dr.  Gay  outlived  two  generations  of  his  parishioners;  and  not  one  of  tliose 
who  was  a  member  of  the  parish  at  the  time  of  his  birth,  was  living  at  his 
decease.  Nor  can  I  ascertain  that  a  single  individual  who  was  an  acting 
member  at  the  time  of  his  Ordination,  survived  him.  More  than  three-fouiths 
of  a  century  has  elapsed  since  his  decease,  yet  his  memory  is  preserved  fresh 
in  the  traditions  of  the  generations  who  knew  him  long  and  well.  I  have 
known  many  persons  who  recollected  him  in  his  old  age. 

He  was  of  about  the  middle  size,  of  dignified  and  patriarchal  appearance, 
and,  if  we  can  judge  of  his  features  as  delineated  by  the  pencil  of  Hazlitt,  they 
were  not  particularly  handsome.  lie  had,  however,  in  the  recollection  of 
those  who  knew  him,  a  grave,  yet  benignant  expression  of  countenance.  Those 
who  loved  him  held  him  in  such  affection  and  reverence  that  they  would  not 
admit  that  Ilazlitt's  portrait  was  not  a  beautiful  picture. 

The  Hon.  Alden  Bradford,  in  his  Historical  sketch  of  Harvard  University, 
publi.shed  in  the  American  Quarterly  Register,  in  May,  1837,  states  that  he 
recollected  seeing  three  venerable  and  learned  men,  Dr.  Gay,  Dr.  Chauncy, 
and  Dr.  Appleton,  pass  through  the  College  yard  to  the  Library.  "Dr.  Gay 
and  Dr.  Chauncy  were  on  a  visit  to  Dr.  Appleton,  and  they  walked  up  to  the 
Chapel  together,  two  being  nearly  ninety  years  old,  and  the  other.  Dr.  Chauncy, 
about  eighty-three.  It  excited  great  attention  at  the  time."  Great  intimacy 
existed  between  these  three  patriarchs,  during  their  long  and  useful  lives. 
Chauncy  and  Gay  died  in  the  same  j-ear.  Appleton's  death  took  place  about 
three  years  earlier.  At  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Simeon  Howard, 
as  Pastor  of  the  West  Church,  in  Boston,  Dr.  Chauncy  preached  the  Sermon, 
Dr.  Gay  gave  the  Charge,  and  Dr.  Appleton  presented  the  Fellowship  of  the 
Churches.     They  were  often  associated  in  similar  services. 

The  earliest  sermon  of  Dr.  Gay's,  which  was  printed,  was  delivered  at  the 
Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Green,  at  Barnstable,  from  Acts  xiv.  15, — "We 
are  also  men  of  like  pa.ssions  with  j'ou," — which  was  much  admired  for  its 
wise    lessons,  seasonable  admonitions  and  moving  exliortations.      His  class- 


6  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

mate  (Foxcroft)  accompanied  its  publication  with  a  Prefatory  Atldress 
<'  To  the  Reader,"  commending  the  Seimon  in  the  most  affectionate  terms. 
Towards  the  close  of  this  most  impressive  discourse,  we  find  the  following 
passages  in  Dr.  Gay's  peculiar  vein: — Speaking  of  the  candidate  for  Ordina- 
tion, Joseph  Green,  he  says, —  "  We  trust  that  lie  will  be  a  Joseph  unto  his 
Brethren,  whom  he  is  to  feed  with  the  Bread  of  Life,  and  that  God  sendeth 
liim  here  to  preserve  their  Souls  from  Perishing.  Tlie  Lord  make  him  a 
fruitful  Bough,  even  a  fruitful  Bough  by  a  well,  grafted  into  the  Tree  of  Life, 
and  always  Green,  and  flourishing  in  the  Courts  of  our  God." 

Dr.  Gay  was  remarkable  in  the  selection  and  application  of  the  texts  of  his 
sermons.  Having,  for  a  long  time,  been  unsuccessful  in  procuring  a  well  of 
water,  on  his  homestead,  he  introduced  the  subject  into  his  prayers,  and  also 
preached  a  sermon  from  Number,s,  xxi,  17  — "  Then  Israel  sang  this  song, 
Spring  up,  0  well,  sing  ye  unto  it."  In  1728  he  delivered  a  Lecture  in  his 
own  pulpit,  "  to  bring  Lot's  wife  to  remembrance  "  from  the  text  in  Luke, 
xvii,  32, — "  Remember  Lot's  wife;"  and  entitled  this  very  able  and  interesting 
Lecture,  "  A  Pillar  of  Salt  to  Season  a  Corrupt  age,"  The  text  of  his 
Sermon  preached  at  the  Instalment  of  the  Bev.  Ezra  Carpenter,  at  Keene, 
in  1753,  was  fiom  Zechariah  ii,  1, — '<  I  lift  up  mine  eyes  again,  and  looked, 
and  behold  a  man  with  a  measuring  line  in  his  hand." 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  theological  views  entertained  by  Dr.  Gay  in 
the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  it  is  well  understood  that  he  sympathized  with 
the  spirit  of  free  inquiry'-,  which  gradually  wrought  a  change  in  the  opinions 
of  many  eminent  divines,  commencing  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century. 

In  his  Convention  Sermon  of  1746,  he  attributes  dissentions  among  the 
clergy  to  <'  ministers  so  often  choosing  to  insist  upon  the  offensive  peculiarities 
of  the  party  they  had  espoused,  rather  than  upon  the  more  weighty  things  in 
which  we  are  all  agreed." 

He  was  opposed  to  Creeds,  or  written  Articles  of  Faith,  proposed  by  men. 
He  thus  expresses  himself,  in  1751,  in  his  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  the 
Rev.  Jonathan  Dorby,  at  Scituate — "And  'tis  pity  any  man,  at  his  entrance 
into  the  ministry,  should,  in  his  Ordination  vows,  get  a  snare  to  his  soul,  by 
subscribing,  or  any  ways  engaging  to  preach  according  to  another  rule  of  faith, 
creed  or  confession,  which  is  merely  of  human  prescription  and  imposition." 

He  was  a  warm  friend  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Mayhew,  of  Boston,  whose 
Biographer  thinks  the  latter  was  indebted  to  Dr.  Gay  for  the  adoption 
or  confirmation  of  the  "  liberal  and  rational  views  "  which  he  embraced. 

President  John  Adams,  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Morse,  dated  May  15,  1815, 
remarks  as  follows :  "  Sixty  years  ago,  my  own  minister.  Rev.  Lemuel  Bryant,* 
Dr.  Jonathan  Mayhew,  of  the  AVest  Church  in  Boston,  Rev.  Mr.  Shute,  oi 
Hingham,  Rev.  John  Brown, f  of  Cohasset,  and  perhaps  equal  to  all,  if  not 
above  all.  Rev.   Dr.  Gay,  of  Hingham,  w'ere  Unitarians." 

By  some,  who  fully  understood  the  position  of  Dr.  Gay,  after  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  he  has  been  claimed  to  have  been  the  father  of  American 
Unitarianism.  This  must  bo  conceded, —  that  his  discourses  will  be  searched 
in  vain,  after  that  point  of  time,  for   anj^   discussions  of  controversial  theology, 

•  Lemuel  Bryant  was  a  native  of  Scituate;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1739; 
was  ordained  at  Quincy,  December  4,  1745;  was  dismissed  October  22,  1753;  and  died  at 
Scituate  October  1,  1754,  aged  thirty-two.  He  published  a  Sermon  preached  at  Boston,  on 
the  Absurdity  and  Blasphemy  of  Depreciating  Moral  Virtue,  1749;  Some  Friendly  Remarks 
on  a  Sermon  at  Braintrcc,  Mass.,  by  Rev.  Mr.  Porter,  in  a  Letter  to  the  Author,  1750;  Some 
more  Friendly  Remarks  on  Mr.  Porter,  &c.,  1751. 

■j-  John  Bkown  was  born  at  Haverhill,  Jlass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1741; 
was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Cohasset,  September  2,  1747 ;  and  died 
October  22,  1791,  in  his  si.xty-sevcnthyear.  He  published  a  Sermon  entitled,  "In  what  sense 
the  heart  is  deceitful."  1754. 


EBENEZER     GAY.  7 

any  advocacy  of  the  peculiar  doctrines,  regarded  as  orthodox,  or  the 
expression  of  any  opinions  at  variance  with  those  of  his  distinguished  suc- 
cessor in  the  same  pulpit,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ware. 

But  I  can  not  leave  Dr.  Gay,  witliout  adverting  to  his  political  opinions;  for 
our  traditionary  information  concerning  them  tinely  illustrates  his  character. 
He  was  opposed  to  the  measures  which  preceded  the  American  Revolution 
and  Declaration  of  Independence.  His  sympathies  were  not  with  the  Whigs. 
Yet,  such  was  his  discietion  that  he  mamtained  his  position,  at  the  head  of  a 
large  and  intelligent  parish,  comprising  all  shades  of  political  opinion,  but  in 
the  main  Whigs, —  without  alienating  the  affections  of  his  people  or  impairing 
his  usefulness.  On  one  occasion,  he  and  his  friend  and  neighbour.  Dr.  Sliute, 
"who  was  an  ardent  Whig,  were  invited  to  address  the  people  in  town-meeting, 
on  a  political  question;  and  they  both  succeeded  so  well  that  the  town  gave 
them  a  vote  of  thanks.  Still,  Dr.  Gay's  political  sentiments  were  well  under- 
stood, and  were  a  cause  of  occasional  uneasiness  among  his  parishioners, 
during  the  period  of  the  Revolution.  We  have  this  anecdote  from  an 
authentic  source.  It  was  a  part  of  the  duty  of  the  Committee  of  Correspon- 
dence, Inspection  and  Safety,  to  call  upon  suspected  citizens,  and  those  known 
to  be  loyalists,  to  demand  a  search  for  arms.  It  was  proposed  that  the  Com- 
mittee should  call  upon  Dr.  Gay,  and  demand  his  arms,  probably  not  because 
they  supposed  he  had  any,  of  which  lie  would  make  improper  use  against  the 
new  Government,  but  because  the  opportunity  was  a  good  one  to  give  him  a 
sort  of  official  admonition  that  he  held  obnoxious  sentiments,  in  which  some 
of  the  most  influential  of  his  people  did  not  share.  That  the  thing  to  be  done 
■was  a  little  aggravating  did  not  take  away  the  zest  of  doing  it  —  it  would  have 
been  ungenerous  also,  had  there  not  been  a  very  perfect  accord  between  Dr.  Gay 
and  his  parish,  as  Pastor  and  people,  on  all  subjects  save  politics.  The  Com- 
mittee presented  themselves  before  the  Doctor,  who  received  them  in  his  study, 
standing,  and  with  entire  calmness  and  dignity,  when  he  enquired  of  them, — 
"What  do  you  wish  with  me.  Gentlemen?"  "We  havecome.  Sir,  in  accordance 
with  our  dut}^  as  the  Committee  of  Safety,  to  ask  j^ou  what  arms  you  have 
in  the  house."  He  looked  at  them  kindly,  perhaps  a  little  reproachfully,  for 
a  moment  or  two,  before  answering,  and  then  said,  laying  his  hand  upon  a 
large  Bible  on  the  table  by  which  he  stood, —  "There,  my  friends^are  my  arms, 
and  I  trust  to  find  them  ever  sufficient  for  me."  The  Committee  retiied  with 
some  precipitation,  discomfited  by  tlie  dignified  manner  and  implied  rebuke 
of  Dr.  Gay,  and  the  Chairman  was  heard  to  say  to  his  associates,  as  they 
passed  out  of  the  j'ard, — "  The  old  gentleman  is  always  ready." 

Notwithstanding  the  political  opinions  entertained  by  Dr.  Gay,  he  found 
among  the  clergy,  who  held  opposite  views,  his  most  ardent  friends.  The 
intercourse  between  him  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Shute,  of  the  Second  Parish,  who 
was  a  zealous  Whig,  was  of  the  most  friendly  character,  and  he  was  on 
excellent  terms  with  Mr.  Smith,  of  Weymouth,  (the  father  of  Mrs.  John 
Adams,)  and  Mr.  Brown  of  Cohasset,  who,  at  one  time,  was  a  Chaplain  to  the 
troops  m  Nova  Scotia,  before  the  Revolution.  Dr.  Gay's  son,  Jotham  Gay, 
was  a  Captain  in  the  same  department.  The  Doctor,  in  writing  to  Mr.  Brown, 
•says, — "  I  wish  you  may  visit  Jotham,  and  minister  good  instruction  to  him- 
and  his  Company,  and  furnish  him  with  suitable  sermons  in  print,  or  in  yoar 
own  very  legible,  if  not  very  intelligible,  manuscripts,  to  read  to  his  men,  who 
are  without  a  preacher  —  in  the  room  of  one,  constitute  Jotham  curate." 

I  think  I  may  safely  say   that  New   England   could   boast  of  few  ministers^ 
during  the  last  century,  who  exerted  a  wider  influence  than  Dr.  Gay. 
I  am,  with  the  highest  respect. 

Your  friend, 

SOLOMON  LINCOLN 


8  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


CHARLES  CHAUNCY,  D.  D  * 

1727—1787. 

Charles  Chauncy  was  a  great  grandson  of  the  Rev.  Charles  Chauncy, 
■who  was  the  second  President  of  Harvard  College.  He  was  a  grandson 
of  the  Rev.  Isaac  Chaunc}',  who  was  the  minister  of  Berry  Street  Meet- 
ing-house, in  London,  and,  in  the  last  years  of  his  ministry,  had  Dr.  Watts 
as  his  assistant.  His  father  was  Charles  Chauncy,  who,  though  a  native 
of  England,  came  to  this  country,  and  settled  as  a  merchant  in  Boston. 
His  mother  was  Sarah  Walley,  daughter  of  Judge  Walley,  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Massachusetts.  He  (the  subject  of  this  notice)  was  born  in 
Boston,  January  1,  1705.  At  the  age  of  seven  years,  he  lost  his  father, 
but  did  not  want  for  friends  who  were  disposed  to  give  him  the  best  advan- 
tages for  education.  He  entered  Harvard  College  when  he  was  twelve 
years  old,  and  graduated  in  the  year  1721 ;  being  regarded  as  one  of  the 
best  scholars  who  had,  at  that  time,  received  the  honours  of  the  institution. 

He  soon  commenced  the  study  of  Theology,  and  in  due  time  received 
approbation  to  preach  the  Gospel.  After  the  removal  of  Mr.  Wadsworth 
from  the  First  Church  in  Boston  to  the  Presidency  of  Harvard  College,  the 
attention  of  that  congregation  was  directed  to  Mr.  Cliauncy,  as  a  suitable 
person  to  be  his  successor.  On  the  12th  of  June,  1727,  they  voted  him  a 
call  to  settle  among  them,  and,  on  the  25th  of  October  following,  he  was 
ordained  and  installed  as  Co-pastor  with  the  Rev.  Thomas  Foxcroft, — the 
Sermon  on  the  occasion,  according  to  the  usage  of  that  day,  being  preached 
by  himself.  The  call  was  far  from  being  unanimous ;  and  it  does  not 
appear  that  lie  produced  any  great  sensation,  in  any  way,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  Jiis  ministry. 

In  1742,  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the  Univer- 
sity of  Edinburgh. 

Dr.  Chauncy  was  a  stern  opposer,  from  beginning  to  end,  of  the  great 
religious  excitement  that  prevailed  in  New  England  and  elsewhere,  in 
connection  with  the  labours  of  Whitefield  and  his  coadjutors.  His  first 
publication,  bearing  directly  on  the  subject,  was  a  Sermon  on  Enthusiasm, 
in  the  year  1742,  which  is  justly  considered  one  of  his  most  vigorous  pro- 
ductions. The  next  j^ear  he  published  an  elaborate  work,  entitled  "  Sea- 
Bonable  Thoughts  on  the  State  of  Religion  in  New  England."  In  1744 
he  published  an  Ordination  Sermon,  and  a  Convention  Sermon,  both  of 
which  he  designed  as  Tracts  for  the  Times.  The  same  year  he  published 
a  Letter  to  the  Rev.  George  Whitefield,  calling  on  him  to  defend  his  con-  , 
duct  or  confess  his  faults ;  and  the  next  year  he  addressed  a  second  Letter 
to  him,  in  the  same  spirit,  and  of  the  same  decided  character,  with  the 
former.  Dr.  Chauncy,  though  he  did  not  by  any  means  stand  alone  in  his 
views  of  the  then  existing  state  of  things,  differed  from  the  great  mass  of 
Lis  brethren,  in  contemplating  the  case  as  one  of  unmixed  evil.     Colman, 

•Dr.    Clarke's  Fun.  Serm. —  Emerson's  Hist.  First  Church,  Boston. — Mass.  Hist.  Coll., 
Ill,  VI,  X.  Miller's  Retrospect,  II.     Prof.  Fowler's  Hist,  of  the  Chauncy  family.  • 


CHARLES    CHAUNCY.  9 

Sewall,  Foxcroft,  Cooper,  Prince,  and  many  others,  saw  very  •much  to 
dit;approve  and  deplore,  while  yet  they  seem  to  have  admitted  the  substan- 
tial genuineness  of  the  work ;  but  Dr.  Cliauncy  regarded  it  as  essentially 
evil,  and  opposed  it  with  all  the  energy  which  he  could  command. 

In  1747  Dr.  Chauncy  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Legisla- 
ture of  Massachusetts.  In  this  Sermon  he  expatiated,  with  great  plainness 
and  furce,  on  some  of  the  evils  of  the  day,  for  which  he  considered  Ilulers 
chiefly  responsible;  and  particularly  on  the  injustice  which  had  been  done 
to  his  professional  brethren,  in  their  having  been  allowed  to  suffer  so 
severely  from  the  fluctuations  of  tlie  circulating  medium.  His  remarks 
were  received  with  little  favour  by  a  portion  at  least  of  the  Legislature  ; 
and  they  even  debated  whether,  according  to  custom,  they  should  print  the 
Sermon.  The  Doctor,  being  informed  of  this,  sharply  replied, — "  It  shall 
be  printed,  whether  the  General  Court  print  it  or  not.  And  do  you.  Sir," 
(addressing  himself  to  his  informant),  "  say  from  me  that,  if  I  wanted  to 
initiate  and  instruct  a  person  into  all  kinds  of  iniquity  and  double  dealing, 
I  would  send  him  to  our  General  Court." 

In  May,  17G2,  he  delivered  the  Dudleian  Lecture  in  Harvard  College, 
whicli  was  published  under  the  title, — "  The  Validity  of  Presbyterian 
Ordination  asserted  and  maintained."  This  discourse  attracted  great 
attention,  and  was  the  commencement  of  a  controversy  in  wliich  his  friends 
considered  him  as  having  gathered  some  of  his  brightest  laurels.  In  1767 
he  published  "  Remarks  upon  a  Sermon  of  the  Bishop  of  Landaff","  in 
wliich  he  expressed  his  fears  that  the  appointment  of  Bisiiops  fur  America, 
as  was  then  proposed,  would  be  followed  by  attempts  to  promote  Episcopacy 
by  force.  He  then  adds, — "  It  may  be  relied  on,  our  people  would  not  be 
easy,  if  restrained  in  the  exercise  of  that  liberty  wherewith  Christ  hath 
made  them  free  ;  yea,  they  would  hazard  every  thing  dear  to  them, — their 
estates,  their  very  lives,  ratlier  than  suff"er  their  jiecks  to  be  put  under  that 
yoke  of  bondage,  which  was  so  sadly  galling  to  their  fathers,  and  occasioned 
their  retreat  into  this  distant  land,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  freedom  of 
men  and  Christians."  After  this,  he  had  for  his  antagonist  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Thomas  Bradbury  Chandler,  of  Elizabethtown  ;  and  this  controversy  con- 
tinued from  1768  to  1771,  each  of  them  writing  two  or  three  pamphlets. 
In  his  Reply  to  Dr.  Cliandler,  he  says, — "  It  is  with  me  past  all  doubt 
that  the  religion  of  Jesus  will  never  be  restored  to  its  primitive  purity, 
simplicity  and  glory,  until  religious  establishments  are  so  brought  down  as 
to  be  no  more."  His  last  work  on  the  subject,  entitled  "A  Complete 
View  of  Episcopacy,"  was  publislied  in  1771,  and  is  regarded  as  one  of 
the  ablest  of  his  controversial  works.  • 

Dr.  Chauncy  was  far  from  being  a  mere  spectator  of  the  scenes 
of  the  Revolution.  In  1774  he  published  a  Letter  to  a  Friend,  de- 
tailing the  privations  and  hardships  to  which  the  people  of  Boston  had 
been,  or  were  likely  to  be,  subjected  by  the  oppressive  policy  of  the  British 
Parliament;  and  this  pamphlet  was  but  an  index  to  the  spirit  which 
animated  him  during  the  whole  Revolutionary  struggle.  So  firmly  was  he 
convinced  of  the  justice  of  the  American  cause  that  he  used  to  say  he  had 
no  doubt,  if  human  exertions  were  inefi'ectual,  that  a  host  of  angels  would 
be  sent  to  assist  us.     When  a  smile  was  excited,  and  some  doubt  expressed 


10  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

as  to  tlie- possibility  of  our  obtaining  such  aid,  he  remarked,  with  his  eliar- 
acteristio  decision,  tliat  he  felt  fully  assured  that  that  would  be  the  case. 

In  a  Sermon  entitled  "  All  Nations  blessed  in  Christ,"  preached  at  the 
Ordination  of  the  llev.  Joseph  ]Jownian,*  in  1762,  he  is  considered  as 
having  first  faintly  siiadowed  forth  the  doctrine  which  he  afterwards  more 
ojienly  defended,  of  the  final  salvation  of  all  men.  It  is  said  that  this  had 
been  with  him  asubject  of  much  severe  and  earnest  thought,  during  thegreater 
part  of  his  ministry  ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  year  1784  that  he  gave  the 
re.sulls  of  his  inquiry  to  the  world,  in  a  work  entitled, —  "  The  Mystery 
hid  from  ages,  or  the  Salvation  of  all  Men."  He  published  one  or  two 
other  works,  about  the  same  time,  bearing  upon  the  same  subject. 

In  July,  1778,  Dr.  Chauncy  received  the  Kev.  John  Clarke  as  his 
colleai'ue,  and  was  thereby  relieved  in  a  measure  from  public  labour.  He, 
however,  continued  to  occupy  the  pulpit,  a  part  of  the  time,  almost  to  the 
close  of  his  life.  He  died  February  10,  1787,  in  the  eighty-third  year  of 
his  age,  and  the  sixtieth  of  his  ministry.  The  Sermon  at  his  Interment  was 
delivered  by  his  colleague,  the  llev.  Mr.  Clarke,  from  Matt.  XXV,  21, 
which  was  published. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Chauncy's  publications  ; — 

A  Sermon  on  the  death  of  Mrs.  Sarah  Byfield,  1731.  A  Sermon  on 
the  Death  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Price,  1732.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the 
Hon.  Nathaniel  IJyfield,  1733.  A  Sermon  before  the  Artillery  Company, 
1734.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Jonathan  Williams,  1737.  A* 
Sermon  on  Religious  Compulsion,  1739.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mrs. 
Lucy  Waldo,  1741.  A  Sermon  on  the  New  Creature,  1741.  A  Sermon 
ou  an  Unbridled  Tongue,  1741.  A  Sermon  on  the  Various  Gifts  of  Minis- 
ters, 1742,  A  Sermon  on  the  Outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  1742.  A 
Sermon  on  Enthusiasm,  with  a  Letter  to  the  Rev.  James  Davenport,  1742. 
Account  of  the  French  Prophets,  in  a  Letter  to  a  Friend,  1742.  Season. 
able  Thoughts  on  the  Stale  of  Religion,  (an  octavo  volume,)  1743.  A  Sermon 
at  the  Instalment  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Frink,t  1744.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Annual  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers,  1744.  A  Letter  to  the 
Rev.  George  Whitefield,  publicly  calling  on  him  to  Defend  his  Conduct, 
or  Confess  his  Faults,  1744,  A  Second  Letter  to  the  Same,  1745.  A 
Thanksgiving  Sermon  on  the  Reduction  of  Cape  Breton,  1745.  A  Sermon 
on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Cornelius  Thayer,  1745.  A  Sermon  on  the  Rebellion 
in  favour  of  the  Pretender,  1745.  Massachusetts  Election  Sermon,  1747. 
A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Anna  Foxcroft,  1749.  A  Sermon  for 
Encouraging  Industry,   1752,      A  Sermon  on    Murder,  1754.     A   Sermon 

•  JosKPH  Bowman  was  a  native  of  Wcstborough,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege, in  1701;  was  ordained  at  Boston,  as  Missionary  to  the  Indians,  August  31,  1762;  was 
installed  at  Oxford,  Mass.,  November  14,  1764;  was  dismissed,  August  28,1782;  was  installed 
at  Durnard,  Vt.,  Feptetiibcr  22,  1784;  and  died  December  8,  1820,  aged  eighty-seven. 

t  Thomas  Fiunk  was  a  native  of  Sudbury,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in 
1722;  was  ordained  at  Rutland,  Mass.,  November  1,  1727;  was  dismissed  September  8,  1740; 
was  installed  at  Plymouth,  November  7,  1743;  was  dismissed  in  1748;  was  installed  at  Barre, 
Mass.,  October,  1753;  and  was  dismissed  July  17,  1766.  He  published  a  Discourse  at  Giving 
the  Right  Hand  of  Fellowship,  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Edward  Billings;  [who  was 
born  in  Sunderland,  Mass;  graduatexl  at  Harvard  College,  in  1731,  was  ordained  at  Belcher- 
lown,  inl739;  was  dismissed  in  1701;  was  installed  at  Greenfield  District,  Mass.,  March 
28,  1754;  and  died  in  1760;]  a  Sermon  at  Siaflford,  Conn.,  at  the  Ordination  of  John 
Willard,  1757;  and  the  Massachusetts  Election  Sermon,  1758. 


CHARLES     CHAUNCY.      '  11 

on  tlie  Earthquake,  1755.  Account  of  the  Ohio  Defeat  in  a  Letter  to  a 
Friend,  1755.  A  Particular  Narrative  of  the  Defeat  of  the  French  Army 
at  Lake  George,  in  a  Letter  to  a  Friend,  1755.  A  Sermon  on  the  Earth- 
quakes in  Spain,  1756.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Edward  Gray, 
1757.  The  Opinion  of  one  who  has  perused  the  'Summer  Morning's 
Conversation,'  &c:,  1758.  Dudleian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College,  1762. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Joseph  Bowman,  1762.  Twelve  Sermons 
particularly  referring  to  the  Saudenianian  Doctrines,  1765.  A  Sermon  at 
tlie  Ordination  of  Penuel  Bowen,  1766.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Dr. 
Mayhew,  1766.  Thanksgiving  Sermon  on  the  Repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act, 
1767.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Simeon  Howard,  1767.  lieniarks 
on  the  Bishop  of  Landafl's  Sermon  in  a  Letter  to  a  Friend,  1767.  Answer 
to  Dr.  Cliandler's  Appeal,  1768.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  llev. 
Thomas  Foxcroft,  1769.  "  Trust  in  God  the  Duty  of  a  People,"  &c.;  a 
Sermon  preached  at  the  request  of  a  number  of  Patriotic  Gentlemen,  1770. 
Reply  to  Dr.  Chandler's  Appeal  defended,  1770.  A  Complete  View  of 
Episcopacy,  ^an  octavo  volume,)  1771.  Five  Sermons  on  the  Communion, 
1772.  A  Sermon  on  "All  things  in  Common,"  1773.  A  Just  Representa. 
tion  of  the  Hardsliips  and  Sufterings  of  the  town  of  Boston,  in  a  Letter  to 
a  Friend,  1774.  A  Sermon  on  "the  Accursed  Thing,''  1778.  Tiie  Jlys. 
tery  hid  from  Ages,  or  the  Salvation  of  all  Men,  (an  octavo  volume,)  1784. 
The  Benevolence  of  the  Deity  fairly  and  impartially  considered,  (an  octavo 
volume,)  1784.  Five  Dissertations  on  the  Fall  and  its  Consequences,  (an 
octavo  volume,)  1785.  A  Sermon  upon  the  Return  of  the  Society  to  their 
House  of  Worship,  after  it  had  undergone  the  necessary  Repairs,  1785. 

Dr.  Chauncy  was  three  times  married.  His  first  wife  was  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  Judge  Grove  Hir.'^t,  ami  grand-daughter  of  the  first  Chief 
Justice  Sewall  by  whom  he  had  three  children, — one  son  and  two  daughters. 
His  second  marriage  was  on  the  8lh  of  January,  1738,  to  Elizabeth  Town, 
eend  ;  and  his  third  w;is  on  the  15th  (if  .January,  1760,  to  Mary,  daughter 
of  David  Stoddard.  There  were  no  children  by  either  of  the  two  last 
marriages. 

Dr.  John  Eliot,  who,  in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  was  contemporary  with 

Dr.  Chauncy,  writes  thus  concerning  him  : — 

"Dr.  Cliauncy  was  one  of  the  greatest  divines  in  New  England, — no  one,  except 
President  lidwards  and  the  late  Dr.  Mayhew,  has  been  so  much  known  among  the 
literati  of  Europe,  or  i)rihted  more  be)f)ks  upim  theological  subjects.  He  took  great 
delight  in  studying  the  Scrii)tures.  Feeling  the  sacred  obligations  of  morality,  he 
impressed  them  u])On  the  minds  of  others  in  the  most  rational  and  evangelical  manner. 
When  he  preached  upon  the  faith  of  the  Gospel,  he  reasoned  of  righteousness,  tempe- 
rance and  judgment  to  come.  It  was  said  that  he  wanted  the  graces  of  delivery  and 
taste  in  composition.  But  it  was  his  object  to  deliver  the  most  sublime  truths  iu 
simplicity  of  speech,  and  he  never  therefore  studied  to  have  his  periods  polished  with 
rhetorical  tigures.  Ills  favourite  authors  were  Tillotson  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and 
Baxter  among  the  Puritans.  For  he  preferred  tlie  rich  vein  of  sentiment  in  the  Ser- 
mons of  the  English  divines,  to  that  tinsel  of  French  declamation  so  fashionable  in  our 
modern  way  of  preaching.  Upon  some  occasions,  however,  Dr.  Chauncy  could  raise 
his  feeble  voice,  and  manifest  a  vigour  and  animation  which  would  arrest  "the  attention 
of  the  most  careless  hearer,  and  have  a  deeper  effect  than  the  oratory  which  is  thought 
by  many  to  be  irresistibly  persuasive:  at  all  times  he  was  argumentative  and  perspicu- 
ous, and  made  an  admirable  practical  use  of  the  sentiments  Ik  delivered." 

The  following  notice  of  Dr.  Chauncy  is  from  an  "  Historical  Sketch  of 

the  First  Church,  in  Boston,"  by  the  Rev.  William  Emerson,  one  of  Dr. 

Chauncy's  successors  :— 


12  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

"  The  fact  is.  he  had  no  taste  for  rhetorical  studies.  So  little  versed  in  poetry  was 
he  that  he  is  said  to  liave  wished  that  somebody  would  translate  tlic  Paradise  Lost  of 
Milton  into  prose,  tliat  In;  might  understand  it.  lie  lovod  nature,  simplicity,  and 
truth,  and  loolced  ujjon  the  art  of  rhetoric  rather  as  an  intlamer  of  the  passions,  and 
a  pei'verter  of  reason,  tlian  as  an  instrument  of  good  to  mankind.  His  aversion 
indeed  was  so  rooted  towards  tlie  noisy  and  foaming  fanatics  of  his  time,  and  his 
attachment  so  strong  to  Taylor.  Tillotson,  and  writers  of  that  stamp,  that,  in  tiie 
conii>any  of  intimate  friends,  as  is  reported  of  him,  he  would  sometimes  beseech  God 
never  to  make  liim  an  orator.  One  of  his  acquaintances  now  living,  (1811.)  hearing 
this  report,  remarked  that  his  prayer  was  unequivocally  granted.  Yet  I  have  been 
informed  by  one  of  his  hearers,  who  is  an  excellent  judge  of  sermons,  that  Dr.  Cliauncy 
was  by  no  ineans  an  indifferent  speaker,  that  his  emphases  were  always  laid  witli  pro- 
priety, often  witli  hap])y  effect;  and  that  his  general  manner  was  that  of  a  plain, 
earnest  preacher,  solicitous  for  tlie  success  of  liis  labours.  He  ordinarily  entered  oa 
his  task,  whether  of  composing  or  delivery,  apj)arently  without  niuch  nerve,  as  a 
labourer  commences  his  daily  toil,  uttering  a  deal  of  common  truths  in  a  common  way. 
But  he  had  alwaj-s  a  design,  which  lie  kept  clearly  and  steadily  in  view,  until  it  was 
prudently  and  thoroughly  executed." 

As  I  do  not  find  tliat  Dr.  Cliauncy  has,  in  any  of  his  publications,  ex- 
pressed himself  definitely  in  respect  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  I  wrote 
to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Frotirnigham,  another  of  Dr.  Chauncy's  successors,  to  ascer- 
tain his  opinion  on  the  subject,  and  received  from  him  the  following  reply  : — 

"  As  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  though  the  subject  had  not  risen 
into  controver.sy  in  his  day,  I  have  always  supposed  that  he  was  Non- 
Nicene  on  that  point.  Such  a  supposition  would  certainly  correspond  best 
with  the  general  complexion  of  his  religious  opinions.  He  was  always 
classed  prominently  among  those  who  were  called  '  liberal ; '  for  there  were 
two  parties  then  as  now.  An  octogenarian  parishioner  of  mine,  who  was 
one  of  his  hearers,  tells  me  that,  long  before  his  Book  on  Universal  Salva- 
tion was  published,  some  of  his  church  left  him  to  go  to  the  Old  South." 

The  following  letter  addressed  by  the  late  Kev.  Dr.  Howard,  of  Springfield, 
to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Walker,  President  of  Harvard  College,  has  been  kindly 
put  at  my  disposal.  Nearly  every  thing  contained  in  it  I  have  myself  had 
from  Dr.  Howard's  own  lips.  If  the  letter  should  seem  to  involve  a 
departure  from  my  general  rule  not  to  allow  the  approval  or  the  condemna- 
tion of  any  particular  system  of  Doctrine,  either  by  myself  or  nsy  corres- 
pondents, the  explanation  is  that  Dr.  Howard  is  himself  one  of  the  subjects 
of  this  work,  and  the  letter  is  quite  as  illustrative  of  liis  own  views  as  of 
those  of  Dr.  Chauney. 

Springfield,  January  22,  1833. 

Dear  Sir:  You  ask  me  for  reminiscences  of  Dr.  Chauney.  You  might  almost 
as  well  have  gone  to  him  for  them.  But,  as  I  have  a  very  great  veneration 
for  his  character,  and  wish  it  may  be  transmitted  to  posterity  just  as  it  was, 
I  will  tell  you  all  that  I  do  remember  of  him. 

lie  was,  like  Zaccheus,  little  of  stature,  and,  like  St.  Paul,  his  letters  were 
powerful.  God  gave  him  a  slender,  feeble  body,  a  very  powerful,  vigorous 
mind,  and  strong  passions;  and  he  managed  them  all  exceedingly  well.  His 
manners  were  plain  and  downriglit, —  digniticd,  bold  and  imposing.  In 
conversation  with  his  friends,  he  was  pleasant,  social  and  very  instructive. 
Bigotry  and  superstition  found  no  quarter  with  him  —  in  wliatever  garb  tliey 
approached,  they  were  sure  to  lie  detected  and  rebuked.  lie  possessed  and 
enjoyed  a  firm  and  unwavering  faith  in  the  truth  and  inspiration  of  tlie  Scrip- 
tures, and  in  tlie  impossibility  of  tlieir  Iiaving  been  written  but  by  tKe 
supernatural  inspiration  of  God.  lie  said  to  me,  "  I  defy  any  man  that  ever 
existed,  to  give  any  rational  account  of  the  conduct  of  mankind,  without 
going  to  the  third  chapter  of  Genesis  for  tlie  cause."     Soon  after  his  Book  on 


CHARLES    CHAUNCY.  13 

Universal  Salvation  was  published,  he  said  to  me, — "  Howard,  have  you  seen 
my  book?"  «<  Yes  Sir."  "  Have  you  read  it?"  <<  Yes  Sir."  ««  And  do  you 
believe  it?"  "No  Sir."  '«  Ah!  if  you  had  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed, 
you  would  believe  it."  He  said  to  me,  "  I  could  once  compose  and  write  as 
fast  as  any  man  that  ever  existed.  I  have  often  written  every  word  of  my 
afternoon  sermon  in  the  intermission." 

His  attitude  and  tone  of  voice  in  the  desk  were  dignified,  solemn,  impressive 
and  positive.  They  seemed  to  say, — "  I  know  that  what  I  am  delivering  is 
true,  and  highly  important  to  j'our  souls."  I  am  not  able  to  give  you  a  list 
of  his  publications;  they  were  many.  His  volume  containing  ten  sermons  on 
Justification  is  very  able,  and  contains  his  Body  of  Divinity,  which,  though 
now  out  of  date,  may  prove,  in  the  end,  to  be  much  nearer  the  truth  as  it  is 
in  Jesus,  than  some  of  later  date.  He,  like  St.  Paul,  gloried  in  the  Cross  of 
Christ,  which  seems  to  be  abandoned  and  made  of  none  effect  by  some  divines 
of  the  present  generation.  Every  one  of  us  must  give  an  account  of  himself 
to  God;  and  every  man's  work  will  be  tried;  and  the  wood,  hay  and  stubble 
will  be  burnt  up;  and  a  very  great  bonfire  there  will  be. 

The  Doctor  was  remarkably  temperate  in  his  diet  and  exercise.  At  twelve 
o'clock,  he  took  one  pinch  of  snuff,  and  only  one  in  twenty-four  hours.  At 
one  o'clock,  he  dined  on  one  dish  of  plain  wholesome  food,  and  after  dinner 
took  one  glass  of  wine,  and  one  pipe  of  tobacco,  and  only  one  in  twenty-four 
hours.  And  he  was  equally  methodical  in  his  exercise,  which  consisted 
chiefly  or  wliolly  in  walking.  I  said,  <'  Doctor,  you  live  by  rule."  "  If  I 
did  not,  I  should  not  live  at  all."  He  was  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  pene- 
trating and  candid  in  his  comments,  and,  I  believe,  as  little  influenced  by  the 
prevailing  errors  of  his  time  as  any  other  man.  And  his  own  errors, 
although  they  may  have  injured  thousands,  did  not  appear  to  do  him  any 
harm,  but  rather  increased  his  love  to  God  and  man;  and  how  far  he  is 
accountable  to  God  for  the  injury  his  book  has  done,  is  an  awful  question 
which  none  but  God  can  answer.  But  it  is  a  question  which  ought  to  fill  the 
mind  of  every  author,  and  every  preacher  with  great  anxiety,  lest  the  blood 
of  others  should  be  required  of  them.  When  will  Calvinism  and  Humanita- 
rianism,  the  two  great  errors  of  the  present  day,  so  "  come  to  their  end  that 
none  shall  help  them?"  Calvinism  has  imposed  on  Christianitj'  an  irrational 
load,  too  grievous  to  be  borne.  Humanitaiianism,  urging  to  the  other  extreme, 
has  not  only  stripped  it  of  all  its  Calvinistic  attire,  but  has  taken  out  its 
very  vitals, —  has  denied  every  doctrine  peculiar  to  the  Gospel,  and,  under  the 
cloak  of  Christianity,  intrenched  itself  on  a  rampart  of  Natural  Religion. 
The  time  is  coming  when  all  error  will  be  put  down,  and  Christ  will  have  no 
more  cause  to  complain  that  He  is  wounded  in  the  house  of  his  friends.  A 
Christian  community  will  somewhere  arise,  free  from  error,  and  all  men  will 
flow  into  it.  Then,  we  shall  all  come  unto  <«  the  unity  of  the  faith  and  the 
knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God  to  a  perfect  man."  May  the  Lord  hasten  it  in 
his  time. 

I  hope  you  will  get  a  good  likeness  of  the  Doctor.  He  was  really  a  great 
and  good  man.  I  verily  believe  he  is  now  in  Heaven,  and  humbly  hope  that 
I  shall  soon  be  with  him  there. 

From  your  friend, 

BEZALEEL  HOWARD. 


14  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


THOMAS  BARNARD.* 

1739—1776. 
THOMAS  BARNARD,  D.  D.f 

1773—1814. 

Thomas  Barnard,  a  son  of  the  Rev.  John  Barnard,  of  Andover,  ■was 
born  August  17,  1710.  He  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1732, 
and  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  First  Church,  in  Newbury, 
January  81,  1739.  After  a  few  years,  the  peace  of  his  congregation  was 
disturbed  by  the  influence  of  certain  religious  teachers,  who  maintained 
thnt  no  small  portion  of  the  ministers  of  that  day  were  unconverted  men, 
and  were  to  be  treated  accordingly.  There  is  a  letter  still  extant, 
addressed  by  Mr.  Barnard  to  the  Bev.  Joseph  Adams, t  whom  he  seems  to 
have  considered  as  sharing  largely  in  the  denunciatory  spirit,  in  which  he 
gives  a  very  vivid  account  of  the  disorders  he  so  much  reprobated.  His 
situation  at  length  became  so  unpleasant  that  he  resolved  to  relieve  him. 
self  by  retiring  from  his  pastoral  charge  ;  and,  accordingly,  he  was,  by 
his  own  request,  dismissed,  on  the  18th  of  January,  1751.  A  considerable 
portion  of  his  congregation,  as  well  as  of  the  community  at  large,  deeply 
regretted  his  taking  this  step,  as  he  was  regarded  among  the  most  intelli- 
gent and  respectable  ministers  in  the  whole  region. 

After  leaving  his  charge,  he  removed  to  that  part  of  the  town  which  is 
now  Newburyport,  studied  law,  became  a  practitioner  at  the  Bar,  and  was 
a  Bepresentative  of  the  town  to  the  General  Court.  Though  his  talents 
were  such  as  would  have  ensured  him  success  in  civil  life,  he  found  that  he 
liad  little  taste  for  such  pursuits,  and  had  a  strong  inclination  to  return  to 
theological  studies  and  pastoral  engagements.  Accordingly,  acting  under 
the  advice  of  his  friends,  as  well  as  in  accordance  with  his  own  taste  and 
judgment,  he  resolved  to  re-enter  the  ministry.  The  First  Church  in 
Salem  having  been  rendered  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Bev.  John  Spar- 
hawk,  Mr.  Barnard  was  called  to  be  his  successor.  He  accepted  the  invi- 
tation, and  was  installed,  September  18,  1755.  The  Installation  Sermon 
was  preached  by  the  Bev.  Peter  Clark  of  Danvers,  from  Malachi  ii,  6  ; 
and  the  Charge  was  delivered  by  the  Bev.  John  Barnard  of  Marblehead. 
He  was  recommended  to  the  church  by  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  Common- 
wealth, particularly  on  account  of  his  high  intellectual  powers  and  accom- 
plishments ;  and  his  congregation  is  said  to  have  had  in  it,  at  that  time,  a 
greater  amount  of  cultivated  intellect  than  any  other  in  the  Province. 

Here  Mr.  Barnard  conticued  till  the  close  of  his  life.  He  suffered  much, 
in  his  latter  years,  from  a  paralytic  aflfection.  His  memory  failed  ;  and, 
though  he  continued  to  preach  till  within  a  few  weeks  of  his  death,  it  was 

•  Mass.  Hist.  Coll.  VI. 
f  rrince's  Fun.  Serm. 

j  Joseph  Adams  was  a  native  of  Newbury ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1742; 
was  ordained  at  Stratham,  N.  II.,  Juno  24,  1766 ;  and  died  February  24, 1786,  aged  sixty -six. 


THOMAS     BARNARD.  15 

only  by  the  closest  attention  to  liis  manuscript  that  he  could  read  his  sermon. 

In    July,  1772,  Mr.  Asa    Dunbar,*  a  young  «uin  of    uncommon  promise, 

became  his  colleague,  and  was  dismissed,  by  his  own  request,  on    account 

of  ill  health,   in  1779.     Mr.   Barnard  died  August   15,  1776,  aged  sixty 

years.     Dr.  Andrew  Eliot  of  Boston,  who  had  long  been  his  intimate  friend, 

preached  his  Funeral  Sermon. 

Dr.  John  Eliot,  who  doubtless  must  have  known  him,  as  the   friend  of 

his  fatlier,  has  left  the  following  record  concerning  him  in  his  Biographical 

Dictionary  : — 

"As  long  as  he  lived,  he  was  esteemed  and  beloved  by  the  wisest  and  best  part  of 
the  community.  His  manner  of  preaching  was  grave,  slow  and  distinct.  He  had  not 
sufficient  animation  in  his  delivery,  but  liis  sermons  were  nitional  and  judicious,  calcu- 
lated for  hearers  of  thoughtful  minds,  witliout  that  unction  which  popular  preachers 
have,  and  which  seems  necessary  to  give  a  charm  to  public  discourses.  Ii  was  observed 
also,  by  men  of  good  sense,  tliat  Mv.  Barnard's  style  of  preaching  was  not  the  most 
perspicuous.  His  favourite  author  was  Bishop  Butler,  whose  writings  are  more 
remarkable  for  masterly  reasoning  than  fine  turned  sentences.  In  the  Deistical  contro- 
versy Mr.  Barnard  was  superior  to  most  divines,  and  he  often  made  it  the  subject  of 
his  public  discourses.  In  bis  sentiments  he  was  considered  as  a  follower  of  Arminius 
rather  tlian  Calvin;  he  was  a  Serai-Arian  of  Dr.  Clarke's  school." 

I  find  nothing  in  any  of  Mr.  Barnard's  writings,  more  distinctive,  as  to 
his  theological  views,  than  the  following  extract  from  an  Ordination  Ser- 
mon, delivered  in  1757,  on  "The  Christian-Salvation:" 

"  It  might  be  expected  that  the  Ruler  of  the  Universe  will  exercise  mercy  to  offenders 
in  such  a  maimer  as  shall  give  no  pretence  to  the  rest  of  his  creation  to  rebel,  in  hopes 
of  easy  pardon,  whatever  their  guilt  may  be.  Tbe  Christian  salvation  is  a  proof  of 
the  Divine  wisdom  in  this  respect.  Therefore  we  see  the  incarnate  Jesus  going  on  in 
such  a  series  of  consummate  virtue  atid  goodness  as  God  might  look  on  with  pleasure; 
which  being  tried  in  the  severest  instances,  and  persevering  even  unto  death,  might  be 
the  proper  basis  of  a  grant  of  the  highest  blessings  to  Him,  (in  his  complex  character,) 
and  to  men,  for  his  sake,  and  on  his  request.  \Ve  see  Him  making  peace  by  the  blood 
of  his  cross,- redeeming  us  from  wrath;  not  from  the  effects  of  vindictive  passions,  or 
delight  in  misery  in  the  Deity,  but  from  that  unhappiness  which  the  rectitude  of  God's 
government  made  the  necessary  fruit  of  sin;  for  without  shedding  of  blood  there  was 
no  remission.  And  to  maintain  in  us  a  sense  of  the  majesty  and  purity  of  God  and 
our  own  ill  desert.  He  is  made  our  Intercessor  in  Heaven,  through  whom  we  have 
access  unto  the  Father.  In  this  view,  Christ  gave  Himself  for  us  to  redeem  us  from 
all  iniquity,  the  penal  effects  of  it." 

The  publications  of  Mr.  Barnard  were  —  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination 
of  Edward  Barnard,  Haverhill,  1743.  A  Letter  to  Mr.  Joseph  Adams. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Josiah  Baylcy.t  1757.  A  Sermon  before 
the  Society  for  promoting  Industry,  1757.  Artillery  Election  Sermon, 
1758.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  William  Whitwell,  Marblehead, 
1762.  A  Sermon  at  the  General  Election,  1763.  Dudleian  Lecture  at 
Harvard  College,  1768.  A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  the  Rev,  Peter 
Clark,   Danvers,  1768. 

Mr.  Barnard  left  three  sons  —  Joh?!,  vfho  was  graduated  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege, in  1762,  and  became  a  merchant  at  St.  Johns,  New  Brunswick; 
Thomas,  an  account  of  whom  follows  in  this  article,  and  Benjamiyi,  who 
was  also  a  merchant  in  New  Brunswick. 

•  Asa  Dunbar  was  a  native  of  Bridgewater,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1767;  and  died  in  New  Hampshire,  in  December,  1788,  having  spent  some  of  his  last  years 
in  the  profession  of  the  Law. 

t  JosiAH  Bayley  was  a  native  of  Newbury,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  ia 
1752;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Church  at  Hampton  Falls.  N.  H.,  October  19,  1757;  and 
died  September  12,  1762,  aged  twenty-nine. 


16  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


THOMAS  BARNARD,  D.  D. 

Thomas  Barnard,  a  son  of  the  llev.  Thomas  Barnard,  was  born  in 
Newbury,  February  5,  1748.  He  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1706, 
He  studied  Theology  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Williams  of 
Bradford,  afterwards  Professor  in  Harvard  College.  He  was  ordained  and 
installed  Pa^^tor  of  the  North  Church  and  Society  in  Salem,  January  13, 
1773.  In  the  yeav  1771,  when  his  father  had  become  so  feeble  as  to 
require  the  assistance  of  a  colleague,  the  son  was  invited  to  preach  .as  a 
candidate  for  the  place  ;  but,  as  the  congregation  were  divided  in  their 
partialities  between  him  and  another  candidate,  the  party  favourable  to  his 
settlement  withdrew,  and  formed  a  new  church  of  which  he  became  the 
Pastor.  Here  he  continued  in  the  active  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his 
oflice  forty-one  years.  On  the  morning  of  the  first  day  of  October,  1814, 
he  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  which  had  a  fatal  termination  in  the 
course  of  the  following  night.  He  died  in  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  his 
age.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Prince,  and  was 
afterwards  published. 

He  received  the  Degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  both  the  University 
of  Edinburgh,    and   Brown   University,  in   1794. 

Dr.  Barnard  was  married  in  May,  1775,  to  Lois,  daughter  of  Samuel 
Gardner,  a  respectable  merchant  of  Salem.  He  had  two  children, —  a  son 
and  a  daughter,  but  survived  them  both. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Barnard's  publications  : — 

A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Aaron  Bancroft,  Worcester,  1786.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Artillery  Election,  1789.  A  Sermon  before  the  Massachu- 
setts Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers,  1793.  A  Discourse  before 
the  Humane  Society  of  Massachusetts,  1794.  A  Sermon  on  the  National 
Thanksgiving,  1795.  Dudleian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College,  1795.  A 
Fast  Sermon,  1796.  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1796.  A  Sermon  on  the 
Death  of  Washington,  1799.  A  Sermon  before  the  Salem  Female  Chari. 
table  Society,  1803.  A  Sermon  before  the  Society  for  Propagating  the 
Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts,  1806.  A  Sermon  before  the  Bible  Society  of 
Salem  and  vicinity,  1814. 

In  May,  1811,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  spending  an  hour  with  Dr.  Barnard 
at  his  house,  being  taken  thither  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Abbot 
of  Beverly.  He  was  then  far  advanced  in  life,  and  had  the  appearance  of 
being  somewhat  infirm.  I  was  struck  with  the  kindliness  of  his  manner  and 
the  benignity  of  his  countenance.  We  found  him  writing  a  sermon ;  and  I 
remember  hia  telling  us  that  he  submitted  to  the  drudgery  of  copying  all 
his  sermons,  writing  them  first  on  small  pieces  of  paper.  He  was  rather 
a  short  man,  considerably  inclined  to  corpulency,  and  his  movements  were 
heavy  and  difficult.  There  is  nothing  in  any  of  Dr.  Barnard's  published 
works  to  indicate  the  peculiar  shade  of  his  theological  views  ;  but  I  learn 
from  those  who  had  the  best  opportunity  of  forming  a  judgment  on  the 
subject,  that  his  Theology  was  nearly  the  same  with  that  of  his  father, — 
that  is,  that  he  was  a  Semi-Arian,  or  possibly  an  Arian. 


THOMAS    BARNARD.  17 

The   following    delineation  of  Dr.  Barnard's  character  is  extracted  from 
Dr.  Prince's  Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  pf  his  Death  : — 

"As  a  Man,  I  can  say  of  him,  from  an  acquaintance  of  thirty-five  years,  he  possessed 
those  qualities  which  command  respect  and  interest  tlie  lieart.  lie  liad  a  liappy 
constitutional  temper,  was  social  and  cheerful  in  liis  disposition,  open  and  affable  iu 
his  manners:  he  was  approached  witliout  restraint,  and  made  every  one  easy  in  his  com- 
pany. In  liis  social  and  cheerful  intercourse  with  others  he  never  forgot  tlie  respect 
wliich  was  due  to  his  ministerial  character:  he  honoured  himself  and  liis  office  in  all  his 
associations  in  life.  He  had  great  sensibility;  his  own  feelings  were  strong,  and  he 
readily  entered  into  the  feelings  of  others.  His  expressions  and  manner  in  conversa- 
tion were  animated,  when  the  subject  was  important  and  interesting;  especially  when 
the  welfare  and  happiness  of  others  were  concerned.  Possessing  a  benevolent  heart, 
he  was  kind  and  friendly  to  all,  and  delighted  to  do  good  when(jpportunity  occurred. 
He  felt  for  the  misfortunes  of  others,  and  often  strongly  interested  himself  to  relieve 
their  sufferings.  He  opened  his  hands  to  the  poor,  who  were  blest  with  his  charitj'. 
One  trait  iu  his  character,  though  of  a  minor  kind,  is  not  uninteresting,  as  flowing  from 
his  natural  benevolence — he  was  remarkably  attentive  to  young  children;  his  playful 
cheerfulness  with  them  interested  their  little  minds,  and  gained  their  confidence 
'  To  pluck  Lis  gown,  and  share  the  good  man's  smiles.' 

"Having  a  high  sense  of  integrity  and  a  just  notion  of  honour,  he  abhorred  a  dis- 
honest action  and  despised  a  mean  one.  His  heart  was  open  and  sincere;  which  gave 
frankness  to  his  conversation  and  manners,  and  led  him  to  censure,  sometimes  in 
strong  language,  craftiness  and  hypocrisy.  Being  of  too  kind  a  disposition  to  do  or  wish 
ill  to  any  one,  he  had  few  or  no  enemies;  (none  that  he  diil  not  forgive;)  but  it  gained 
him  manj'^  friends.  He  had,  by  study,  stored  his  mind  with  a  fund  of  uset'iil  knowledge; 
and  his  study  of  mankind  led  him  to  a  correct  knowledge  of  men.  He  knew  the 
frailties  and  prejudices  of  human  nature,  and  how  to  make  allowance  for  errors  and 
failings;  but  gross  violations  of  princijjle,  coming  from  a  corrupted  mind,  and  con- 
ducted by  talent,  excited  his  deep  regret  and  severest  censures.  His  good  sense  and 
judgment,  and  his  prudence,  which  he  possessed  in  a  high  degree,  made  him  a  wise 
and  safe  counsellor  and  gave  weight  and  influence  to  his  advice,  which  was  often  asked 
and  followed  with  advantage. 

"As  a  Christian,  he  was  highly  exemplary  in  the  moral  duties  of  life;  pious  and 
fervent  in  his  devotions;  and,  though  cheerful  in  his  general  conversation,  he  was 
serious  when  occasion  required  it.  lie  had  humble  thoughts  of  himself,  a  just  sense 
of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  relied  wliolly  on  the  merits  of  Clirist  for  salvation.  By 
diligent  reading  and  study,  a  free  and  im[)artial  inquiry,  aided  by  a  good  judgment, 
his  faith  was  firmly  fixed  in  the  truth  of  Christianity. 

"As  a  Minister,  he  was  highly  respected  and  esteemed,  and  useful  in  the  churches; 
being  often  called  to  assist  at  councils  in  the  Ordination  of  ministers,  or  settling  differ- 
ences among  brethren.  He  was  often  consulted,  and  his  knowledge  and  judgment  had 
weight  and  influence  on  such  occasions.  He  was  catholic  in  his  principles  and  candid 
towards  those  who  differed  from  him.  Though  zealous,  as  far  as  zeal  was  useful,  in 
incidcating  his  own  sentiments,  he  did  not  wish  to  impose  them  on  any  man.  He  left 
others  to  think  for  themselves,  and  entertained  none  of  those  peculiarities  which 
poison  the  sweets  of  ciiarity.  He  esteemed  the  honest  man,  liowever  differing  from 
him  in  speculative  opinions,  and  embraced  him  in  his  charity.  He  did  not  mistake 
passion  for  pious  zeal,  nor  attempt 

'To  murder  virtue  in  the  name  of  God.' 

"As  the  Lord  had  declared  that  the  poor  had  the  gospel  preached  to  them ,  he  believed 
.that  all  its  doctrines  necessary  to  salvation  were  within  the  comjjass  of  their  under- 
standing for  faith  and  practice;  and  that  the  final  salvation  of  no  man  depended  upon 
the  belief  or  disbelief  of  those  speculative  opinions,  about  which  men  equally  learned 
and  pious  difFtT;  and  some  perplex  their  minds,  without  adding  any  thing  to  their 
knowledge.  His  preaching,  therefore,  was  more  practical  than  metaphysical;  though 
he  did  not  neglect  to  discuss  any  religious  subject  in  his  discourses,  which  he  tliought 
would  throw  light  on  the  Scriptures,  inform  the  minds  of  his  hearers,  and  lay  open  the 
views  and  designs  of  God  in  the  Gospel  dispensation,  and  the  character  aiid  office  of 
Christ,  as  the  messenger  of  his  grace,  and  the  Redeemer  of  mankind — such  views  as 
would  impress  the  mind  with  reverence,  esteem  and  love,  confirm  faith  and  excite 
obedience.  With  what  honesty,  openness  and  sincerity,  in  what  a  fervent  and  ])ious 
manner,  he  preached  these  things,  you,  my  hearers,  are  his  witnesses,  who  have  so  long 
sat  under  his  ministry.  I  have  been  informed  that  his  choice  of  subjects,  in  tlie  latter 
part  of  his  life,  was  more  upon  the  frailties  of  our  nature,  its  infirmities  and  mortality, 
than  in  former  days.  As  he  advanced  in  life,  and  felt  a  nearer  approach  to  the  end  of 
it,  he  might  naturally  be  led  to  the  contemplation  of  these  subjects.     In  confirmation 

Vol.  VIII.  2 


18  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

of  this  I  found  upon  his  table,  after  his  death,  a  part  of  a  sermon  which  he  had  begun 
to  write  from  tlicse  words-  '  Mv  flesh  and  my  heart  faileth,  but  God  is  the  strength  of 
my  heart  and  mv  portion  forever'— Fs.  Ixxiii,  26— a  striking  coincidence  between  the 
subject  wliich  engaged  his  mind,  at  tliat  time,  and  his  death.  Probably  tlie  very  last 
dav  he  spent  on  earth,  he  was  employed  writing  on  this  subject.  When  he  visited 
yoii  in  allliction,  how  did  he  pour  the  balm  of  consolation  into  your  minds,  sympathize 
witli  vou  share  in  your  sorrows,  and  encourage  and  comfort  you  by  the  hopes  and 
prom'ises'of  the  Gospel!  llow  did  he  counsel  and  advise  you  when  in  difficulties;  and 
participate  in  your  joys  when  prosperity  smiled  upon  you!  You  can  recollect  these 
scenes  better  than  I  can  describe  them .  I  mention  them  only  as  a  part  of  his  character 
and  conduct  as  a  Christian  minister." 


DANIEL  SHUTE,  D.  D. 

1746—1802. 

FROM  THE  HON.  SOLOMON  LINCOLN. 

Boston,  February  19,  1863. 

My  dear  Sir :  I  have  explored  ^vith  some  care  all  the  sources  of  informa- 
tion concerning  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Shute,  of  Hingham,  and  will  now,  in 
compliance  with  your  request,  embody,  in  a  brief  sketch,  what  I  have  been 
able  to  gather  concerning  his  life  and  character. 

Daniel  Shute,  a  son  of  John  and  Mary  (Wayte)  Shute,  was  born  in  Mai- 
den, the  residence  of  his  parents,  on  the  19th  of  July,  1722.  He  entered 
Harvard  College  in  1739,  remained  there  for  the  whole  term  of  four  years, 
and  was  graduated  in  1743.  Among  his  classmates  were  the  Hon.  Foster 
Hutchinson,  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  Province  of  Massachusetts; 
Major  Samuel  Tliaxter,  of  Hingham,  a  distinguished  officer  in  the  War 
against  the  French  and  the  Indians  ;  the  Hon.  James  Otis,  father  of  the 
celebrated  Revolutionary  patriot  and  orator  ;  and  the  Rev.  Gad  Hitch- 
cock, D.  D.,  a  distinguished  divine  of  Pembroke. 

Mr.  Shute,  having  chosen  the  profession  of  Divinity  and  been  licensed 
to  prea.ch,  was  invited  in  April,  1746,  to  commence  his  professional  career 
as  a  candidate  in  the  South  Parish  of  IMalden.  In  June  of  the  same  year, 
he  was  invited  to  preach  as  a  candidate  in  the  recently  formed  Third  Parish 
in  Hingham.  This  Parish  was  set  off  from  the  first  Parish  (Dr.  Gay's)  in 
that  town,  March  25,  1745,  and,  at  that  time,  was  designated  the  Third,  as 
Cohasset,  which  was  the  Second  Precinct,  had  not  then  been  incorporated 
as  a  separate  district  or  town.  This  was  done  in  1770,  and  the  Tliird 
Parish  of  Hingham  has  since  been  known  as  the  Second  Congregational 
Parish.  The  inhabitants  composing  this  Parish,  whicli  embraced  terri- 
torially the  South  part  of  the  town,  had  contended  zealously  for  nearly 
twenty  years  for  separate  parochial  privileges,  which  were  denied  to  them. 
Some  alienation  of  feeling  naturally  grew  out  of  a  controversy  so  long  pro- 
tracted. Confident  of  ultimate  success  in  their  efforts,  the  inhabitants  of 
the  South  part  of  the  town  had,  in  1742,  erected  a  commodious  meeting- 
Tiouse,  on  Glad-Tidings  Plain,  which  is  now  standing  in  a  good  state  of 
preservation. 

ISIr.  Shute  declined  an  invitation  to  settle  in  Maiden,  and  in  September, 
1746,  accepted  the  call  at  Hingham.  In  the  following  November  a  church 
Was  embodied  by  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Eelles,  of  Scituate,  and  the  Rev.  Wil- 


DANIEL    SHUTE.  19 

liam  Smith,  of  Weymouth.  Mr,  Shute  was  ordained  their  Pastor,  December 
10th,  1746.  The  Rev.  Messrs.  Eelles,  of  Scituate,  Lewis,  of  Pembroke, 
Emerson,  of  Maiden,  Bayley  and  Smith,  of  Weymouth,  were  invited,  with 
delegates,  to  form  the  Ordaining  Council.  The  part  performed  by  each 
on  that  occasion  is  not  known.  The  exercises  were  not  printed.  Mr.  Gay, 
of  the  First  Church,  was  also  invited  to  be  present  with  delegates,  but  he 
declined  the  invitation  in  behalf  of  his  church,  and  did  not  himself  attend. 
He  wrote  a  very  conciliatory  letter  to  the  new  church,  in  which  he  says, — 
"  I  shall  be  ready  to  serve  you  all  I  can  in  your  religious  affairs  and 
interests,  as  a  Christian  neighbour  and  Gospel  minister,  though  I  may  not 
in  the  particular  you  have  desired,  as  the  Messenger  of  a  church  (than 
which  an  Elder  in  an  Ecclesiastical  Council  is  nothing  more).  On  the  walls 
of  a  new  meeting-house  were  once  engraven  these  words, — '  Built  not  for 
faction,  nor  a  party,  hit  for  promoti7ig  faith  and  repentance,  in  cominu- 
Tiion  with  all  that  love  our  Lord  Jesus  in  sincerity.^  May  this  be  verified 
in  the  house  you  have  erected  for  Divine  worship."  But  a  short  time 
elapsed  before  the  most  friendly  relations  were  established  between  the  two 
Parishes  and  their  Pastors.  In  May  following  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Shute, 
he  exchanged  pulpit  services  with  Dr.  Gay,  and  continued  to  do  so  until 
the  death  of  the  latter.  IMr.  Shute  was  a  frequent  guest  at  the  hospitable 
table  of  Dr.  Gay,  and  they  enjoyed  many  a  frugal  repast  and  rich  intel- 
lectual feast  together. 

Tiiere  was  an  entire  harmony  in  their  religious  opinions  ;  and  it  has  been 
said  that  there  was  great  unanimity  of  sentiment  between  all  the  members 
of  the  Association  to  which  they  belonged,  of  which  Drs.  Gay,  Shute, 
Hitchcock,  Barnes,  Messrs.  Smith,  Brown,  Hand  and  others,  were  members. 
At  a  subsequent  period  of  their  lives,  Gay  and  Shute  took  opposite  views 
of  the  great  political  questions  which  agitated  the  country, —  the  former 
being  a  moderate  Tory,  and  the  latter  an  ardent  Whig.  Their  political 
differences,  however,  caused  no  interruption  to  their  friendship.  During 
a  severe  illness  of  Mr.  Shute,  Dr.  Gay  manifested  the  most  anxious  solici- 
tude for  his  recovery  ;  and  expressed  the  warmest  feelings  of  attachment. 
The  first  marriage  of  Mr.  Shute  was  solemnized  by  Dr.  Gay,  and,  at  the 
Funeral  of  the  latter,  Mr.  Shute,  in  his  Discourse  on  that  occasion,  paid  a 
most  affectionate  tribute  to  the  memory  of  his  distinguished  friend. 

Tlie  ministry  of  this  venerable  man  covered  more  than  the  last  half  of 
the  last  century.  During  that  period.  Pastors  and  People  were  severely 
tried  by  the  French  and  Revolutionary  Wars.  In  both,  Mr.  Shute  entered 
warmly  into  the  feelings  of  the  great  body  of  the  people,  and  used  an  active 
influence  in  forming  and  guiding  public  opinion.  In  1758  he  was  appoint- 
ed, by  Governor  Pownall,  Chaplain  of  a  Regiment  commanded  by  Col. 
Joseph  Williams,  raised  "for  a  general  invasion  of  Canada." 

In  1767  he  delivered  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Ancient  and  Hon- 
ourable Artillery  Company,  from  the  text,  Ecclesiastes,  ix,  18:  ^'Wisdom 
is  letter  than  zveapons  of  ivar.'^  In  1768,  he  preached  the  p]lection  Ser- 
mon from  the  text,  Ezra  x,  4  :  ^^  Arise  ;  for  this  matter  helo7igeth  2into  thee  ; 
he  will  also  be  xoith  thee;  he  of  good  courage  and  do  it."  Both  these 
discourses  were  printed,  and  bear  marks  of  careful  composition,  sound 
views  and  strong  common  sense.     His  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  his  vene- 


20  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

rated  friend,  Dr.  Gay,  in  1787,  was  also  published,  and  was  a  most  impres- 
sive and  fitting  memorial  of  the  character  of  that  eminent  divine  in  whose 
footsteps  he  delighted  to  tread. 

No  discourse  of  liis  has  been  published,  which  presents  any  discussion  of 
points  of  controversial  theology.  Indeed,  tradition  informs  us  that  his 
puldic  performances  were  remarked  for  the  absence  of  all  such  topics  ;  yefc 
it  is  well  understood  that  he  sympathized  with  those  who  entertained  what 
were  termed  •'  more  liberal  views  "  than  those  entertained  by  the  great 
body  of  the  clergy.  In  this  respect  there  was  great  harmony  of  opinion 
in  tlie  whole  town  and  in  all  the  parishes  which  it  then  contained. 

The  sound  judgment  and  knowledge  of  the  human  character,  possessed 
by  him,  were  often  called  in  requisition  on  Ecclesiastical  Councils.  From 
his  papers,  which  have  been  carefully  preserved  by  his  descendants,  who 
hold  his  memory  in  veneration,  he  appears  often  to  have  been  a  peace- 
maker, and  to  have  aided,  by  his  moderation  and  discreet  advice,  in  com- 
posing unhappy  diiferences  in  Parishes  quite  remote  from  his  own,  but  to 
which  his  reputation  had  extended. 

His  salary  was  a  moderate  one.  His  Parish  was  not  large,  and  was 
composed  chiefly  of  substantial  farmers  and  mechanics.  To  procure  the 
means  of  a  more  independent  support,  he  took  scholars  to  prepare  them  for 
College  and  the  pursuits  of  business. 

His  pupils  being  generally  sons  of  wealthy  patrons,  he  derived  a  con- 
siderable income  from  their  board  and  tuition,  whereby  he  enlarged  his 
library,  and  acquired  a  respectable  amount  of  real  estate,  which  is  now 
held  by  his  descendants.  Among  his  scholars  are  recollected  the  Hon. 
Thomas  H.  Perkins,  and  the  Hon.  John  Welles  of  Boston,  and  sons  of 
General  Lincoln  and  Governor  Hancock. 

In  1780  he  was  chosen  by  his  townsmen  a  Delegate  to  the  Convention 
to  frame  a  Constitution  for  the  State, —  such  was  the  confidence  reposed  in 
his  abilities  and  patriotism. 

In  1788  he  was  associated  with  General  Lincoln  to  represent  the 
town  in  the  Convention  of  Massachusetts,  which  ratified  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States,  and  on  this  occasion  voted  and  took  an  active 
part  in  favour  of  adopting  the  Constitution.  In  the  brief  sketches  of 
the  debates  which  have  been  preserved,  there  is  the  substance  of  a 
speech  which  he  delivered  on  the  subject  of  a  Religious  Test,  which  strik- 
ingly illustrates  his  liberality  and  good  sense.  It  is  characterized  by  a 
vigorous  and  manly  tone,  taking  the  ground  that  to  establish  such  a  Test 
as  a  qualification  for  offices  in  the  proposed  Federal  Constitution,  would  be 
attended  with  injurious  consequences  to  some  individuals,  and  with  no 
advantage  to  the  community  at  large. 

After  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  Mr.  Shute  devoted  himself 
almost  entirely  to  his  parochial  duties,  indulging  occasionally,  by  way  of 
recreation,  in  agricultural  pursuits. 

In  1790  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

In  November,  1797,  on  account  of  the  infirmities  of  age  and  a  failure 
of  his  sight,  he  wrote  to  Lis  Parish,  «'  Whenever  it  shall  become  necessary 
for  you  to  settle  and  support  a  colleague  with  me,  I  will  relinquish  my 


DANIEL    SHUTE.  21 

stipulated  salary,  and  I  will  do  it  as  soon  as  you  sliall  supply  the  pulpit 
after  I  must  resign  preaching."  In  April,  1799,  he  renewed  the  proposi- 
tion in  a  letter  to  the  Parish,  in  which  he  remarks,  "  This  relinqui^^hment 
of  my  legal  right  in  advanced  age,  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  my  ministry,  I 
make  fur  the  Gospel's  sake, —  persuading  myself  that,  this  embarrassment 
being  removed,  you  will  proceed  in  the  management  of  your  religious  con- 
cerns with  greater  unanimity  and  ardour." 

Dr.  Shute  relinquished  his  public  labours  in  March,  1799,  from  which 
time  he  retained  his  pastoral  relation  until  his  decease  ;  but  gave  up  his 
salary,  as  he  had  proposed.  The  Rev.  Nicholas  Bowes  Whitney,  a  native 
of  Shirley,  and  a  graduate  of  Harvard  College,  in  1793,  was  ordained  as 
a  colleague  of  Dr.  Shute,  January  1,  1800.  Dr.  Shute  died  August  30, 
1802,  ill  the  eighty-first  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the  fifty-sixth  of  his  min- 
istry. At  his  Funeral  a  Sermon  was  delivered  by  the  Rev.  Henry  Ware 
(senior)  tiie  successor  of  Dr.  Gay,  as  Pastor  of  the  First  Parish.  In  that 
sermon  Dr.  Ware  represents  him  as  having  enjoyed  a  distinguished  rank 
among  his  brethren  for  talents,  respectability  and  public  usefulness;  as 
having  possessed  a  quick  perception  and  clear  discernment,  and  been  capa- 
ble of  tracing  a  thought  in  all  its  various  relations  ;  as  having  aimed  in  his 
preaching  at  enlightening  the  understanding,  impressing  the  heart  and 
improving  the  life  ;  as  having  framed  his  discourses  in  such  a  manner  tliat 
they  were  level  to  common  capacities,  while  yet  they  furnished  food  for  the 
more  reflecting  and  intelligent  ;  as  having  united  great  solemnity  with 
great  pertinence  in  his  addresses  at  the  throne  of  grace  ;  as  having  min- 
gled with  his  people  with  great  freedom  and  kindliness,  and  sought  to  pro- 
mote their  advantage,  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual,  by  every  means  in  his 
power.  In  short,  he  represents  him  as  a  fine  model  of  a  clergyman,  and 
as  having  enjoyed  in  an  unusual  degree  the  confidence  of  the  community 
in  which  he  lived.  And  I  may  add  that  tradition  is  in  full  accordance  with 
Dr.  Ware's  statements. 

Dr.  Shute  possessed  an  excellent  constitution,  and  lived  to  the  age  of 
fourscore  years  in  the  enjoyment  of  an  uncommon  degree  of  health  until 
near  the  close  of  life.  The  partial  loss  of  sight  was  borne  with  patience 
and  serenity,  and  the  approach  of  the  end  of  life  did  not  deprive  him  of 
his  usual  cheerfulness. 

He  was  twice  married.  Ilis  first  wife  was  Mary  Gushing,  daughter  of 
Abel  and  Mary  (Jacob)  Gushing,  of  Ilingham,  to  whom  he  was  married 
March  25,  1753.  By  her  he  had  two  children  —  Mary  Shute,  born  March 
8,  1754,  who  died  unmarried,  August  14,  1825  ;  and  Daniel  Shute,  who 
was  born  January  30,  1756,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1775, 
entered  the  medical  profession,  served  as  a  Hospital  and  Regimental  Sur- 
geon in  the  Revolutionary  War,  was  in  several  engagements,  and  at  the 
siege  of  Yorktown  ;  commenced  practice  in  Weymouth,  and  removed  to 
Hinghani,  where  he  continued  to  practise  until  old  age.  He  died  in  Iling- 
ham, April  18,  1829. 

After  the  decease  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Shute's  first  wife,  February  12,  1756, 
he  married  Deborah,  daughter  of  Elijah  and  Elizabeth  Gushing,  of  Pem- 
broke, January  6,  1763.  He  had  no  children  by  her.  She  died  October 
26,  1823,  aged   eighty-five. 


22  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

The  spacious  mansion  house  erected  by  Dr.  Shute,  on  Glad-Tidings 
Plain,  near  his  meeting  house,  still  wears  an  attractive  appearance,  and  is 
kept  in  an  excellent  state  of  preservation,  worthy  of  commendation,  by 
the  care  of  descendants  ;  and  they  retain,  as  rich  heir-looms,  specin)ens  of 
furniture  of  the  ante-revolutionary  period,  and  choice  selections  from  the 
Doctor's  library,  which  are  at  the  same  tin)e  proofs  of  his  taste  and  of  theirs'. 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  very  sincerely  yours,       SOLOMON  LINCOLN. 


JONATHAN  MAYHEW,  D.  D.* 

1747— 17G6. 

Jonathan  Mayhew  was  a  son  of  the  Rev.  Experience  Mayhew,  of 
Martha's  Vineyard,  where  he  was  born  October  8,  1720.  He  was  a 
descendant,  in  the  fourth  generation,  from  Thomas  Mayhew,  the  first  Eng- 
lish settler  and  proprietor  of  that  island.  In  early  life,  he  gave  indications 
of  great  vigour  of  mind  and  an  unyielding  firmness  of  purpose  ;  and,  under 
the  influence  of  a  Christian  education,  imbibed  a  deep  reverence  for  religion, 
■without,  however,  as  it  would  seem,  at  any  time,  receiving  all  the  doctrines 
of  the  accredited  orthodox  creed.  Of  the  particulars  of  his  childhood  and 
early  youth  no  record  now  remains;  but  it  seems  probable  that  he  fitted 
for  College  under  the  instruction  of  his  father,  who,  though  not  a  regular 
graduate  of  a  College,!  was  a  highly  intelligent  man,  and  a  respectable 
scholar.  Wliile  young  Mayhew  was  an  undergraduate  at  Cambridge,  he 
made  a  visit  to  York,  in  Maine,  at  the  time  of  a  great  revival  in  that  place  ; 
and,  from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  brother,  it  would  seem  that  he  was 
deeply  impressed  by  much  that  he  saw  and  heard,  while  there  were  many 
things  that  he  condemned  as  savouring  of  extravagance  and  fanaticism.  The 
observations  which  he  made  upon  that  revival  are  supposed  to  have  had 
much  to  do  in  giving  direction  to  his  conduct  on  that  subject  ever  afterwards. 

During  his  college  course,  his  intellectual  powers  were  developed  in  a 
very  extraordinary  manner.  While  he  was  a  fine  classical  scholar,  and 
wrote  Latin  with  great  ease  and  elegance,  he  was  still  more  distinguished 
for  his  skill  in  dialectics  and  his  attainments  in  ethical  science.  lie  gradu- 
ated with  great  honour,  in  1744,  being  then  twenty-four  years  of  age. 

During  the  three  years  immediately  subsequent  to  his  leaving  College, 
he  seems  to  have  been  engaged  part  of  the  time  in  teaching  youtli ;  part  of 
the  time  in  the  study  of  Theology  at  Cambridge  ;  and  it  is  thought  that  he 
spent  a  short  time  also  in  the  family  of  Dr.  Gay  of  Hingham.  His  read- 
ing, at  this  period,  seems  to  have  been  very  methodical,  and  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  make  large  extracts  from  some  of  his  favourite  authors. 

His  earliest  efforts  in  the  pulpit  excited  no  inconsiderable  attention. 
The  Church  in  Cohasset  soon  gave  him  a  call  to  settle  among  them,  but 
he  declined  it.     On  the  Gth  of  March,  1747,  the  West  Church  in  Boston, 

*  Life  by  Aldcn  Bradford.  Mass.  Hist.  Coll.  Ill,  VI,  X.  Dr.  Loweirs  Historical  Dis- 
courses. 

f  Harvard  conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of  A.  M.  in  1720. 


JONATHAN    MAYHEW.  23 

then  vacant  by  the  secession  of  the  Rev.  William  Hooper  from  Congre- 
gationalism  to  Episcopacy,  invited  him  ^two  only  dissenting)  to  become 
their  Pastor.  On  the  day  first  appointed  for  his  Ordination,  only  two  of 
the  clergymen  invited  were  in  attendance  ;  owing,  as  it  was  understood,  to  the 
apprehension  that  was  felt  of  the  unsoundness  of  the  candidate.  Those 
two  did  not  think  proper  to  proceed ;  but  advised  to  the  calling  of  another 
and  a  larger  Council.  This  advice  was  complied  with  —  a  Council  consist- 
ing of  fourteen  ministers,  not  one  of  whom  was  from  Boston,  was  convoked  : 
and  ten  of  these  assembled  on  the  17th  of  June,  and  very  harmoniously 
inducted  the  candidate  into  office.  All  the  members  of  the  Council  who 
"Were  present  might  perhaps  be  reckoned  among  the  "  liberal  "  men  of  that 
day,  though  there  must  have  been  shades  of  diiference  in  their  religious 
views  ;  and  Dr.  Appleton  (of  Cambridge)  at  least  was  understood  rather 
to  sympathize  doctrinally  with  the  stricter  school.  The  Sermon  on  the 
occasion  was  preached  by  Dr.  Gay  of  Hiugham,  and  the  Charge  was  given 
by  tlie  father  of  the  Pastor  Elect. 

That  Mr.  Mayhew's  liberal  opinions  were  unpopular  in  Boston  may  be 
inferred  not  onl}'  from  the  fact  that  no  Boston  minister  took  part  in  his  Ordina- 
tion, but  from  another  equally  significant  circumstance, — namely,  that  he  nev- 
er became  a  member  of  the  Boston  Association  of  Congregational  Ministers. 
It  was  customary  to  apply  for  admission  ;  but  it  is  presumed  that  he  never 
applied,  as  no  record  of  any  such  application  appears  in  the  Minutes.  In 
consequence  of  this,  he  did  not  join  with  the  other  ministers  of  Boston 
in  maintaining  the  Thursday  Lecture  ;  though  he  soon  set  up  a  Weekly 
Lecture  in  his  own  church,  which  excited  great  attention,  and  attracted 
many  people  from  other  churches  in  the  town.  Most  of  the  discourses 
•which  were  preached  on  these  occasions  were  subsequently  published.  In 
a  letter  which  he  addressed  to  his  father,  not  long  after  his  settlement,  he 
says, — '<  The  clergy  of  the  town  stand  aloof  from  me,  and  I  have  to  study 
hard,  so  that  I  cannot  soon  visit  you,  as  I  intended  and  desired."  Subse- 
quently  to  this,  however,  there  seems  to  have  been  a  change  in  his  favour, 
and  a  considerable  number  who  stood  aloof  from  him  at  first,  were  willing 
to  extend  to  him  their  Christian  and  ministerial  fellowship. 

Mr,  Mayhew's  publications  very  early  excited  great  attention,  not  only 
in  this  country  but  in  Great  Britain.  In  the  early  part  of  1750  the 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by  the  University 
of  Aberdeen. 

In  1755  he  published  a  volume  of  sermons  on  the  "  Doctrines  of  Grace," 
as  he  understood  them  to  be  taught  in  the  Bible.  At  the  end  of  the 
volume  is  a  sermon  on  the  shortness  of  life,  in  which  there  is  a  marginal 
note  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  which  was  offensive  alike  to  those' 
who  did  and  did  not  endorse  his  general  views.  The  Doctor  himself  sub- 
sequently expressed  his  regret  at  having  written  it,  and  sent  to  England 
to  prevent  its  being  inserted  in  the  London  edition  ;  though  it  seems  not 
to  have  been  omitted.  Dr.  Mayhew  was,  at  this  time,  Scribe  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers.  When  the  Scribe  was 
to  be  appointed  the  next  year  after  this  volume  appeared,  some  member  of 
the  Body  rose,  and  objected  to  the  re-election  of  Dr.  Mayhew.  Said 
another  member, — "  There  is  no  danger  of  his  getting  any  Arianism  into 


24  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

the  Minutes  of  tlic  Convention."     "Not  into  the  text,  but  he  will  foist  it 
into  some  note,"  was  the  reply.* 

In  1756  Dr.  Ma}  hew,  at  the  age  of  thirty-five,  was  married  to  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  John  Clark,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  a  lady  of  excellent  education, 
and  remarkable  for  her  beauty  and  accomplishments.  After  he  paid  his 
addresses  to  her,  an  attempt  was  made  to  prevent  the  connection,  by 
means  of  some  representations  to  her  parents  of  his  being  unsound  in  the 
faith  ;  but  the  effect  of  those  representations  was  neutralized  by  some  of 
the  Doctor's  friends,  and  the  union,  after  some  little  delay,  was  happily 
consummated.  The  lady  was  many  years  younger  than  himself,  but  the 
connection  proved  to  both  parties  an  exceedingly  happy  one. 

In  1761  Dr.  Mayhew  was  brought,  in  no  very  agreeable  way,  in  contact 
with  Governor  Bernard.  An  Indian  of  Martha's  Vineyard  came  to  Boston 
to  present  a  petition  from  his  tribe  to  the  Governor  and  Council,  for  pro- 
tection against  certain  persons  who  had  taken  away  their  wood.  The  Indian 
told  Dr.  Mayhew  that,  in  presenting  his  petition  to  the  Governor,  he 
gave  him  two  dollars,  as  he  supposed  was  customary,  and  the  Governor  put 
it  into  his  pocket.  The  Doctor,  though  having  full  confidence  in  the 
Indian's  veracity,  yet  thought  it  so  extraordinary  that  he  asked  him  whether 
he  had  not  given  it  to  some  other  person  than  the  Governor  ;  to  which  the 
Indian  replied,  with  great  confidence,  that  he  knew  it  went  into  the  Gov- 
ernor's hands.  Dr.  Mayhew,  a  few  days  after,  happened  to  mention  the 
circumstance  to  two  of  his  intimate  friends,  one  of  whom  imprudently 
repeated  it  in  such  circumstances  that  it  almost  immediately  reached  the 
Governor's  ears  ;  and  the  Doctor  was  forthwith  sent  for  to  answer  to  the 
grave  charge  of  falsehood.  The  Governor's  demonstrations  towards  him 
were  of  the  most  wrathful  and  menacing  kind  :  he  told  him  that  he  was 
just  as  culpable  as  if  he  had  made  the  story ;  that  he  would  prosecute  him 
for  a  libel  :  and,  after  having  consulted  learned  counsel,  should  send  for 
him  at  a  future  day.  Dr.  Mayhew,  after  waiting  a  few  days,  and  being 
deeply  sensible  of  the  injustice  and  rudeness  of  the  attack  which  had  been 
made  upon  him,  addressed  a  long  letter  to  His  Excellency,  explaining  and 
vindicating  his  own  conduct,  and  utterly  denying  the  most  important  charge 
which  the  Governor  had  brought  against  him.  This  is  the  last  that  is 
known  of  the  affair,  and  the  presumption  is  that  the  "  sober  second  thought" 
of  Governor  Bernard  was  adverse  to  continuing  the  controversy. 

In  1763  the  Rev.  East  Apthorp  published  a  pamphlet  entitled  "  Con- 
siderations on  the  Institution  and  Conduct  of  the  Society  for  Propagating 
the  Gospel,"  which  occasioned  a  violent  controversy,  in  which  Dr.  Mayhew 
bore  a  prominent  part.  He  wrote  a  large  pamphlet,  entitled  "  Observations 
on  the  Character  and  Conduct  of  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel  in 
Foreign  Parts,"  &c.  This  was  answered  by  several  meml)ers  of  the 
Society  in  America,  and  by  Dr.  Seeker,  Archbishop  of  Canterbui-y.  The 
Doctor  replied  to  the  pamphlet,  entitled  "  A  Candid  Examination  of 
Observations,"  &c., —  supposed  to  be  the  joint  production  of  Mr.  Caner 
and  Dr.  Johnson  ;  and  having  declared  the  title  page  to  be  false,  he  then 
endeavours  to  prove  it  so.    This  was  answered  in  an  anonymous  tract,  and  this 

*  I  received  this  anecdote  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lathrop  of  West  Springfield. 


JONATHAN    MAYHEW.  25 

a^ain  drew  from  the  Doctor  a  second  Defence  of  his  "  Observations," 
which,  though  sufficiently  pungent,  was  less  satirical  and  scathing  than  the 
preceding  one.  The  controversy  was  conducted,  on  both  sides,  with  great 
spirit  ;   and  put  in  requisition  some  of  the  ablest  pens  of  that  day. 

In  1762  Dr.  Mayhew  published  Two  Sermons  delivered  on  the  day  of 
public  Tlianksgiving,  on  "  The  Extent  of  the  Divine  Goodness  ;"  in  which 
he  put  forth  some  views  which  Calvinists  thought  to  be  at  variance  with  the 
lepresentations  of  Scripture.  The  Rev.  John  Cleaveland,  of  Ipswich,  the 
next  year,  published  Strictures  on  these  Discourses,  which  Dr.  Mayhew 
and  his  friends  pronounced  to  be  destitute  alike  of  truth  and  candour. 
The  Doctor  wrote  a  pamphlet  of  considerable  length  in  reply,  in  which  he 
unhesitatingly  charges  Mr.  Cleaveland  with  "wilful  misrepresentation" 
and  "  malice  prepense,"  and  pours  upon  him  such  a  torrent  of  invective  as 
is  rarely  to  be  met  with  in  the  records  of  theological  controversy. 

In  June,  17G6,  Dr.  Mayhew  addressed  a  letter  to  James  Otis,  his  inti- 
mate friend,  showing  the  deep  interest  which  he  took  in  the  political  state 
of  the  country,  and  how  important  he  considered  it  that  a  good  understand, 
ing  should  be  maintained  among  the  different  Colonies.  In  this  letter  he 
states  incidentally  his  intention  to  set  out  for  Rutland,  the  next  morning, 
to  assist  at  an  Ecclesiastical  Council.  The  meeting  of  the  Council  was  ou 
the  10th  of  June,  and  he  attended  and  officiated  as  Scribe.  The  matters 
referred  to  the  adjudication  of  the  Council  were  of  a  perplexing  nature, 
tasking,  in  a  high  degree,  the  feelings,  as  well  as  the  wisdom,  of  its  mem- 
bers. Dr.  Mayhew  returned  home  in  wet  weather,  and  on  horseback, 
fatigued  in  body  and  mind,  and  was  almost  immediately  seized  with  a  violent 
fever.  Eor  a  few  days  alternate  hopes  and  fears  prevailed  concerning  him  ; 
but,  on  the  9th  of  July,  his  disease  came  to  a  fatal  termination.  Dr.  Low- 
ell states  the  following  circumstance,  which  he  says  he  has  ♦'  from  unques- 
tionable authority  :" — "  When  all  hope  of  his  recovery  was  gone,  the  late 
Dr.  Cooper  said  to  him,  — 'Tell  me,  dear  Sir,  if  you  retain  the  sentiments 
which  you  have  taught,  and  what  are  your  views.'  With  firmness,  though 
with  difficulty,  he  said,  taking  him  affectionately  by  the  hand,  '  I  hold  fast 
mine  integrity,  and  it  shall  not  depart  from  me.',.  His  ministry  continued 
nineteen  years.  He  died  in  the  forty-sixth  year  of  his  age.  Dr.  Chauncy 
prayed  at  his  Funeral,  and  it  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  prayer  ever 
offered  at  a  Funeral  in  Boston  ;  so  scrupulous  were  our  fathers  to  avoid 
what  might  seem  the  least  approach  to  the  Roman  Catholic  practice  of 
praying  for  the  dead.  Dr.  Cliauncy  preached  a  Funeral  Sermon,  on  the 
following  Sabbath,  and,  in  a  fortnight  from  that  time,  another  was  preached 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gay,  who  had  also  preached  at  his  Ordination.  Both  Ser- 
mons were  published. 

Dr.  Mayhew  was  extensively  known  in  Great  Britain,  and  numbered 
among  his  correspondents  such  men  as  Lardner,  Benson,  Kippis,  Black- 
burne,  and  Hollis.  As  he  was  a  high  Whig  in  his  politics,  a  staunch  friend 
of  civil  as  well  as  religious  liberty,  he  was  brought  into  intimate  relations 
with  many  of  the  most  eminent  statesmen  of  his  day.  James  Otis,  James 
Bowdoin,  John  Hancock,  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Samuel  Adams  and  John 
Adams,  are  known  to  have  been  among  his  intimate  friends. 


26  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL 

Tlic  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Maylicw's  puLlications : — 

Seven  Sermons  delivered  at  the  Boston  Lecture,  (an  octavo  volume,) 
1749.  A  Discourse  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Death  of  Cliarles  I,  1750. 
A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  1751.  Massachusetts 
Klection  Sermon,  1754.  Sixteen  Sermons  on  various  subjects,  (an  octavo 
Volume,)  1755.  A  Discourse  occasioned  by  the  Earthquakes,  1755.  Two 
Discourses  on  the  same  subject,  1755.  Two  Thanksgiving  Sermons  for  the 
Success  of  His  Majesty's  Arms,  1758.  Two  Sermons  on  the  Reduction  of 
Quebec,  1759.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Stephen  Sewall,  1760,  A 
Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Great  Fire,  1760.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of 
George  II,  and  the  Accession  of  George  III,  1761.  Two  Sermons  on  Striving 
to  enter  in  at  the  Strait  Gate,  1701.  Two  Thanksgiving  Sermons  on  the 
Divine  Goodness,  1701.  Eight  Sermons  to  Young  Men  on  Christian 
Sobriety,  (an  octavo  volume,)  1703.  Observations  on  the  Charter  and 
Conduct  of  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts,  1763. 
Defence  of  the  preceding  against  an  Anonymous  Pamphlet,  1764.  A 
Second  Defence  of  the  same,  1705.  Letter  of  Keproof  to  John  Cleave- 
land  of  Ipswich,  1704.  Dudleian  Lecture,  on  Popish  Idolatry,  delivered 
at  Harvard  College,  1705.  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon  on  the  Repeal  of 
the  Stamp  Act,  1700. 

Dr.  Mayhew  left  two  children.  One  of  them  died  in  infancy,  shortly 
after  his  own  death,  and  the  other,  a  daughter,  was  married  to  Peter  Waiu- 
wright,  and  was  the  mother  of  Bishop  Wainwright,  of  New  York.  Dr. 
Mayhew 's  widow  was  afterwards  married  to  his  successor,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Howard. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  Sermon  preached  by  Dr.  Chauncy, 
on  the  Sabbath  immediately  succeeding  his  death  : — 

"  The  Father  of  spirits  was  pleased,  in  his  distinguisliinfi;  ffoodness,  to  favour  Dr. 
Mayhew  with  superior  mental  powers.  Few  surpassed  him,  either  in  the  quickness  of 
Ills  appreliension,  the  cloarness  of  his  perception,  the  i-eadiness  of  his  invention,  the 
brightness  of  his  imagination,  the  comprehension  of  his  understanding,  or  the  sound- 
ness of  his  judgment.  And,  together  with  these  gifts  of  God,  he  was  endowed  witli  a 
singular  greatness  of  mind,  fortitude  of  spirit,  and  yet  softness  and  benevolence  of 
temper:  all  which,  being  enlarged  and  strengthened  by  a  good  education,  and  tlie 
opportunity  of  free  converse  witli  men  and  books,  soon  qualitied  him  to  make  a  con- 
siderable figure  in  the  world;  as  he  was  hereby  enabled  to  speak  and  write  with  that 
freedom  of  thouglit,  that  justness  of  method,  that  strength  of  argument,  that  facility 
of  expression,  that  liveliness  of  fancy,  that  purity  of  diction,  and  that  apparent  con- 
cern for  the  good  of  mankind,  which  i)rocured  him  a  name,  both  here  and  abroad, 
which  will  be  remembered  with  honour  long  after  his  body  is  crumbled  into  dust.  It 
was  this  that  made  way  for  liis  coi-respondence  beyond  tlie  great  waters,  wliich  was 
daily  increasing;  and,  had  the  wisdom  of  God  seen  fit  to  have  continued  him  in  life, 
it  migiit  have  been  of  great  service  to  his  country  as  well  as  himself,  if  we  may  judge 
from  what  it  has  alreacly  been. 

"  He  was  eminently  a  friend  to  liberty,  both  civil  and  religious,  and  if  his  zeal,  at 
any  time,  betrayed  him  into  too  great  a  severity  of  expression,  it  was  against  tlie 
attemi)ts  of  those  who  would  make  slaves  either  of  men's  souls  or  bodies.  He  nobly 
claimed  that  which  he  esteemed  equally  the  right  of  others, — the  liberty  of  thinking 
for  himself;  and  he  made  use  of  all  proper  helps  in  order  to  his  thinking  right.  He 
freely  consulted  the  writings  of  men  of  all  persuasions,  not  omitting  to  read  the  works 
of  systiMiiatical  divines  and  metaphysical  schoolmen;  though  he  paid  no  regard  to 
any  thing  he  found  in  them,  but  in  subserviency  to  the  sacred  books  of  Scripture. 
These  he  firmly  adhered  to,  as  containing  tlie  revelations  of  God,  making  them  the  one 
only  rule  of  liis  religous  faith.  "  AVhat  saith  the  Scripture  ? " — was  his  grand  inquiry; 
and,  as  his  sentiments  as  a  Christian  and  divine  were  the  result  therefrom,  he  had  the 
honesty  and  resolution  to  j)reach  and  publish  the  truth  in  Christ,  according  to  the 
apprehension  he  liad  formed  of  it.     If  he  dififered  from  some  others  on  a  few  points, 


JONATHAN   MAYHEW.  27 

tliey  differed  as  much  from  him.  Nor  had  they,  on  this  account,  any  greater  right  to 
judge  Ijiiii  than  he  hud  to  judge  tlieni;  tliougli  he  did  not  presume  to  do  tliis;  as  he 
tliouglit.  with  exact  truth  and  justice,  tiiat  we  liave  all  one  common  Lord,  to  wliom  we 
are  accountable,  and  by  whose  judgment  only,  we  shall  either  stand  or  fall  in  the 
coming  great  day  of  trial. 

"  lie  was  an  avowed  enemy  to  all  human  establishments  in  religion,  especially  the 
estubli.shment  of  mere  ceremouial  rights  as  necessary  to  Christian  communion.  And, 
as  lie  esteemed  this  a  direct  usurpation  of  that  right,  which  is  proper  only  to  Jesus 
Christ,  the  only  supreme  Head  of  tiie  Christian  Church,  it  may  be  an  excuse  for  him, 
if  he  has  ever  expressed  himself  witli  too  great  a  degree  of  asperity  upon  this  iicad. 

■'  It  was  higljly  offensive  to  him  when  he  perceived  in  any  an  evident  breach  ol'  trust; 
especially  if  the  trust  related  to  the  things  of  religion  and  another  world.  And,  as  he 
liad  upon  his  mind  a  clear  and  full  conviction,  in  common  with  many  others,  that  this 
breach  of  trust  was  justly  chargeable  upon  a  certain  respectable  society  at  home, 
though  they  might  be  led  into  it  through  repeated  misinformations  from  their  corre- 
spoudeuts  here;  it  was  this  that  gave  rise  to  the  several  pieces  he  wrote  upon  this 
subject;  in  whicii  he  honoured  himself,  served  these  churches,  and  jirevented  the 
application  of  much  of  that  charity  for  the  propagation  of  Episcoi)acy,  which  was 
intended  for  the  propagation  of  Christianity.  He  has  received  aekuouledgments  from 
England,  on  account  of  these  writings,  and  from  some  of  the  Episcopal  jjcrsuasion, 
who  were  fully  with  him  in  his  sentiments  upon  the  main  })oint  he  had  in  view. 

''  Besides  what  has  been  said,  those  acquainted  with  the  Doctor  must  have  ob.served 
that  manliness  of  spirit,  that  friendliness  of  disposition,  that  freedom  and  ciieerfalness 
of  temper,  which  rendered  him  agreeable  to  those  who  had  the  opportunity  of  con- 
YL-rsiug  with  him.  They  must  also  have  seen  his  amiable  behaviour  in  the  several 
relations  of  life.  As  a  husband,  how  faithful  and  kind  !  As  a  father,  how  tender  and 
afilctionate  I  As  a  master,  how  just  and  eijual !  knowing  that  he  had  a  Master  in 
Heaven.  As  a  friend,  how  true  to  his  professions!  with  what  conKdenceto  he  trusted 
in  .'  As  a  nei.^libour,  how  ready  to  all  the  offices  of  love  and  goodness  !  Instead  of 
being  deficient,  he  rather  exceeded,  in  the  act.s  of  his  liberality  and  charily.  As  a 
minister,  how  diligent.,  liow  laboi'ious.  how  skilful!  making  it  his  care  to  contrive  his 
discourses  so  as  to  inform  the  mind  and  touch  the  heart,  so  as  at  once  to  entertain  and 
profit  both  the  learned  and  the  illiterate,  the  polite  and  less  cultivated  hearer.  Few 
were  able  to  compose  their  sermons  with  so  much  ease,  and  yet  so  much  pertinence; 
and  few  preached  with  greater  constancy,  or  took  occasion  more  frequently,  fVom 
occurrences  in  the  conduct  of  Providence,  to  make  what  they  said  seasonable  and 
profitable  to  their  hearers. 

'■  But  what  is  more  than  all  that  has  been  offered,  he  was,  in  the  judgment  of  those 
who  best  knew  him,  a  man  of  real  piety  and  true  devotion  ;  an  upright,  sincere  disciple 
and  servant  of  Jesus  Christ-  Was  it  pro])er  to  mention  the  time,  manner  and  circum- 
stances of  his  becoming  posses.sed  of  that  faith  in  God  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ, 
which  purified  Ids  heart  and  became  in  him  an  habitual  ])0werfal  principle  of  virtuous 
action,  I  doubt  not  but  even  those  would  entertain  a  good  opinion  of  him  as  a  real 
Christian,  who  may  have  been  greatly  wanting  in  their  candour  and  charity  towards 
him,  because,  in  some  points,  his  thoughts  did  not  agree  with  theirs.  I  have  abundant 
reason  to  believe,  from  what  I  know  of  him,  that  it  was  his  great  endeavour  to  live  in 
all  good  conscience  towards  God  and  man.  And  should  I  appeal  to  you,  the  people 
of  his  charge,  you  would  all.  I  doubt  not,  rise  up  and  declare  his  approbation  and 
jiractiee  of  the  things  that  were  true,  honest,  just,  pure,  lovely  and  of  good  leport. 
You  would  a])pear  as  witnesses,  and  say  that  he  had  been  to  you  an  example  in  word, 
in  conversation,  in  charity,  in  faith,  in  purity  and  in  all  those  other  virtues  which 
adorn  the  Christian's  and  the  minister's  character.  Not  that  he  was  without  his 
imperfections  and  failings;  I  know  he  had  them,  and  he  knew  it  too;  and  everyone 
else  knows  that  he  has  many  infirmities,  who,  in  any  tolerable  degree,  knows  himself. 
But  he  was  uniform  and  steady  in  his  regards  to  the  religion  of  Jesus ;  not  placing  it 
in  tithes  of  mint,  anise  and  cummin,  hut  the  practice  of  the  weightier  matters  of  the 
law, — judgment,  mercy  and  faith ;  though,  after  all,  instead  of  trusting  that  lie  was 
righteous  in  the  sense  of  rigorous  law,  he  esteemed  himself  "  an  unprofitable  servant," 
and  had  his  dependence  on  the  mercy  of  God,  through  the  mediation  of  the  only  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ.  In  this  temper  he  lived,  and  in  the  same  temper,  I  believe,  he  would 
have  died,  had  it  pleased  the  all-wise,  righteous  and  holy  Sovereign  of  the  world  to 
have  permitted  the  free  use  of  his  reasonable  powers.  And  he  is  now,  as  to  his  soul 
or  spirit,  we  charitably  believe,  in  that  invisible  world,  which  was  the  great  object  of 
his  hope,  and  where  he  will  be  happy,  without  any  mixture  of  evil,  forever. 

The  following  extracts  from  a  volume  of  Sermons,  published  by  Dr. 
Mayliew,  in  1755,  are  more  explicit  in  respect  to  bis  theological  views  than 
any  thing  else  to  be  found  in  his  writings. 


28  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

"  It  was  by  the  ordination  of  God  that  we  were  put  into  these  bodies;  which  expose 
us  so  mucli  to  temptation  tliat  it  is  almost,  if  not  altogetlier,  impossible  for  us  wholly 
to  avoid  sinning.  And  hence,  I  suppose,  it  is  that  we  are  said  to  be  by  nature,  child- 
ren of  wrath:  for  no  farther  than  we  are  naturally  the  children  of  disobedience,  can 
we  be  naturally  the  children  or  the  objects  of  wrath.  However,  no  passion  or  affection 
with  whicli  we  are  born,  can  be  in  itself  sinful;  it  becomes  so  only  by  wilful  or  careless 
indulgence.  A  creature  cannot,  strictly  speaking,  be  a  sinner,  till  he  has  violated  some 
law  of  God  or  of  nature:  for  "'  sin  is  the  transgression  of  the  law.' "     (P.  434.) 

"There  are  nt>ne,  perhaps,  who  have  more  reason  to  be  suspicious  of  themselves 
than  your  hot,  religious  zealots;  the  great  sticklers  for  what  they  call  Orthodox}-, — 
•whether  Justly  or  unjustly,  it  now  matters  not.  You  will  sometimes  see  men,  wrang- 
ling in  such  an  unchristian  manner  about  the  form  of  godliness,  as  to  make  it  but 
too  evident  that  they  deny  the  power  thereof.  You  will  find  some  who  pride  them- 
selves in  being  of  what  they  call  the  true  Church,  showing  by  their  whole  conversation 
that  thry  are  of  the  synagogue  of  Satan.  Some  contend,  and  loam,  and  curse  their 
brethren,  for  the  sake  of  the  Athanasian  Trinity,  till  'tis  evident  they  do  not  love  and 
fear  the  one  living  and  true  God  as  they  ought  to  do.  Others  j'ou  will  see  raging 
about  their  peculiar  notions  of  original  sin,  so  as  to  prove  themselves  guilty  of  aclual 
transgression;  about  election,  till  they  prove  themselves  reprobates;  about  particular 
redemption,  till  thej-  show  that  they  themselves  are  not  redeemed  from  a  vain  con- 
versation. You  will  hear  others  quarrelling  about  imputed  righteousness  with  such 
fury  and  bitterness  as  to  show  that  they  are  destitute  of  personal;  about  special  grace, 
so  as  to  sbow  that  they  have  not  even  common;  about  faith,  while  they  make  ship- 
wreck of  a  gof)d  conscience;  and  about  the  final  perseverance  of  the  saints,  till  they 
prove  themselves  to  be  no  saints;  and  that,  if  they  had  c%'er  any  goodness  or  grace, 
they  are  now  fallen  from  it.     (P.  403.) 

'■  Job  xxxviii,  7,  compared  with  Isai.  ix,  12.  "  How  art  thou  fallen  from  Heaven, 
O  Lucifer,  so«  o/ //(e  morning  I" — The  king  of  Babylon  is  here  more  immediately 
intendi.d.  (ver.  4.)  but  there  is  a  plain  allusion  to  the  Prince  of  the  Devils,  once  a 
son  of  the  morning,  a  morning  star,  and  one  of  the  sons  of  God,  who  are  sometimes 
called  Elohim.  It  does  not  appear  that  there  were  any  apostate  spirits  or  devils, 
before  man's  creation.  Lucifer,  the  first  Piietender.  seems  then  to  have  fallen,  when  he 
tcm])ted  man  to  rebel;  setting  bimself  up  as  the  Prince  and  God  of  this  world,  and 
telling  our  first  parents  that  they  should  not  die  but  be  as  the  Elohim.  After  the  fall, 
we  know  there  were  numy  Elohim,  both  good  and  bad;  but  only  one  Jehovah  who 
was  to  be  w()rshipi)ed  by  sacrifice,  Exod  xxii.  20,  Qui  sacrificat  Diis.  (Ileb.  Elohim) 
prceterqunmsoli  Jehovce.  anathema  sit — He  that  sacrificeth  to  the  Gods,  (to  the  Elohim.) 
except  to  the  only  Jehovah,  let  him  be  accursed.  This  is  the  language  of  the  Old 
Testament — What  says  the  New  ?  '  There  be  gods  many,  and  lords  many,  but  to  us 
there  is  but  one  God  the  Father.'  The  contrast  to  Lucifer,  see  Heb.  i.  9  :  Thou  hast 
loved  righteousness  and  hated  iniquity;  therefore  God,  even  thy  God  hath  anointed 
thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above  thy  fellows.  Betwixt  whom  and  the  serpent  was 
it  that  enmity  was  to  be  put  ?  Who  was  finally  to  bruise  his  head  after  a  long  contest? 
(See  Dan.  x,  13,  and  ver.  21.  Also  chap,  xii,  ver.  1.)  Who  was  manifested  in  the 
fulness  of  lime  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devill  to  judge,  and  cant  out,  the  prince 
of  this  world,  who  was  a  Liar  and  a  murderer  from  the  beginning 'i  "Was  it  not  the 
Logosl  He,  who  is,  by  way  of  eminence,  styled.  The  only  begotten  of  the  Father, 
thu  Jirst-born  of  every  creature  ?  lie  who  was  known,  (imperfectly,)  even  under  the 
Old  Testament,  by  these  titles — The  Angel  of  the  Lord^s presence;  The  Angel  of  the 
Covenant;  The  Messenger  of  the  Covenant;  and  whom  David  in  spirit  called  his 
XortZ,  though  he  was  to  be  his  Son  according  to  the  y/es/i?  The  contest  betwixt  the 
great  Friend  and  Patron  of  mankind,  and  the  enemy  of  all  good,  together  with  the 
final  decision  and  issue  of  it,  was  represented  to  St.  John,  in  vision,  Apoc.  xii,  7. 
'And  there  was  war  in  Heaven:  Michael  and  his  angels  fought  against  the  dragon; 
and  the  dragon  fought  and  his  angels  and  prevailed  not — and  the  great  dragon  was 
cast  out,  that  old  serpent  called  the  Devil  and  Satan,  which  deceiveth  the  whole  world'. 
The  Scripture  informs  us  that  the  Logos  had  a  iorfy  i)rcpared  for  him,  and  that  he 
partook  of  fiesh  and  blood,  that  he  might,  '  through  death,  destroy  him  that  had  the 
power  of  death,  that  is,  the  rfcri/.'  But  that  he  took  into /(crsona/  union  with  him- 
self an  human  soul,  my  Bible  saith  not:  nor  that  there  is  any  other  true  God,  besides 
"  his  Father  and  our  Father,  his  God  and  our  God."  Indeed,  some,  who  call  them- 
selves Christians,  have  exalted  even  the  Virgin  Mary  above  all  that  is  called  God  in 
Heaven,  and  that  is  worshijiped  there;  saying  that  she  is  luore  kind  and  merciful  tlian 
God  Himself;  and  {)raying  to  her  to  command  her  son  to  befriend  them ;  styling  her  the 
Mother  <f  God,  &,c.  It  would  be  no  suri)rise  tome  to  hear  that  the  Pope  and  a  General 
Council  had  declared  the  B.  Virgin  to  be  the  fourth .  or  rather  the  first,  person  in  the 
Godhead,  under  the  title  of  God,  or  Goddess,  Tiif:  Mother;  adding  that  neither  the 
persons  are  to  be  confounded,  nor  the  substance  divided;  that  the  JSIother  is  eternal, 
the  Father  is  eternal,  the  Son  eternal,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  eternal;  but  yet  that  these 


GAD    HITCHCOCK.  29 

are  not  four  eternals,  bat  one  Eternal;  tRat  this  is  tbe  Catholic  faith,  which  except  a 
man  believe  faithfully,  he  cannot  be  saved.  He  that  hath  an  ear  to  hear,  let  hiji 
hear!  and  he  that  "hath  a  mouth  given  him  to  blaspheme,  (Rev.  xiii,  5.  6.)  and  a 
tongue  to  babble  without  ideas,  (understanding  not  what  he  sa./s  nor  whereof  he  affirms j) 
let  liini  i>/asp/iemc  and  babble!  But  neither  jP a/n'sis  nor  Protestants  should  imagine 
that  they  will  be  understood  by  o//ie/-s,  if  they  do  not  understand  themselves-  nor 
shoulil  they  think  that  nonsense  and  contradictions  can  ever  be  too  sacred  to  be 
ridiculous." 


GAD  HITCHCOCK,  D.  D.^ 

1748—1803. 

Gad  Hitchcock  was  born  in  Sprin<;fiekl,  Mass.,  FeLruary  12,  1718 — 
19,  He  was  a  son  of  Ebenezer  and  Mary  (Sheldon)  Ilitclicock,  and,  on 
the  mother's  side,  was  a  descendant,  in  the  fourth  generation,  from  the 
lion.  John  Pyncheon,  and  in  the  fifth,  from  the  Hon.  William  Pyncheon, 
the  father  of  the  town  of  Springfield.  He  was  graduated  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege in  1743,  and  was  ordained  and  installed  over  the  Second  Parish  in 
Pembroke,  (now  a  di.stiiict  town  by  the  name  of  Hanson,)  Mass.,  in  Octo- 
ber, 1748.  There  is  a  tradition  that  a  portion  of  the  Council  that  ordained 
him  were  dissatisfied  with  some  of  the  views  of  Christian  doctrine  whicli  he 
expressed  on  his  examination,  and  that,  in  consequence  of  this,  the  ordain- 
ing services  were  postponed  for  one  day. 

During  the  Revolutionary  War,  he  was  a  warm  friend  to  the  American 
cause,  and,  in  several  instances,  officiated  as  Chaplain.  On  these  occasions, 
he  not  only  attended  diligently  to  the  appropriate  duties  of  his  office,  but 
proved  to  the  soldiers  that  he  was  not  disposed  to  screen  himself  from  the 
dangers  that  he  encouraged  them  to  encounter.  At  a  subsequent  period, 
he  was  a  member  of  the  Convention  that  framed  the  Constitution  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

In  1787  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

Dr.  Hitchcock  was  blest  with  a  good  constitution,  and  generally  with 
vigorous  health,  and  was  able  to  continue  his  professional  labours  without 
interruption  till  he  was  far  advanced  in  life.  In  July,  1799,  he  was 
attacked  with  paralysis,  while  he  was  preaching,  and  never  entered  the 
pulpit  afterwards.  He  so  far  recovered  from  the  shock  that  he  was  able  to 
converse,  but  not  to  engage  in  any  active  service.  He  lingered  in  this 
depressed  state,  nearly  four  years,  and  died  on  the  8th  of  August,  1803,  at 
the  age  of  eighty-five.  The  Funeral  service,  consisting  of  only  a  prayer, 
according  to  his  own  direction,  was  performed  by  the  Eev.  Dr.  Barnes,  of 
Scituate. 

He  was  married,  in  early  life,  to  Dorothy  Angier,  of  Cambridge,  who 
died  August  6,  1792,  aged  seventy-nine.  They  had  only  one  child, — a  son, 
bearing  his  father's  name,  who  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1768, 
settled  as  a  phyiscian  in  his  native  parish,  and  died  in  1835,  aged  eighty- 
eix. 

*Mss.  from  Hon.  0.  B.  Morris  and  Eev.  Dr.  Pierce. 


30  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

The  fullowing  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Ilitclicock's  puLlications  : — 
A  Sermon  preached  before  a  Military  Company,  1757.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Enos  Hitchcock,  Beverly,  1771.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  Boston  on  occasion  of  the  General  Election,  1774.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  Plymouth  in  Commemoration  of  tlie  First  Landing  of  our 
Ancestors,  1774.      Dudleian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College,  1779. 

FROM  THE  REV.  MORRILL  ALLEN. 

Pembroke,  March  28,  1853. 

Dear  Sir :  My  opportunities  for  knowing  Dr.  Hitchcock  personally  were  much 
less  than  you  seem  to  have  supposed.  He  was  not  settled  over  the  same  Parish 
of  which  I  liave  had  the  chorge,  but  over  an  adjoining  Parish  in  what  was  then 
the  same  town.  I  never  even  saw  him  till  after  lie  had  been  struck  down  by 
paralysis,  and  reduced  almost  to  a  wreck.  Still  I  could  form  some  judgment 
of  him,  even  in  that  enfeebled  state;  and  I  heard  much  of  him  from  his  con- 
temporaries, who  had  known  him  in  his  better  days.  Perhaps,  therefore,  I 
may  be  able  to  give  you  a  tolerably  correct  idea  of  the  leading  traits  of  his 
character. 

Dr.  Hitchcock  was  a  rather  tall,  but  well-proportioned,  man;  and,  with  a 
large  wig, —  an  indispensable  article  of  dress  in  his  day,  must  have  made  a 
very  respectable  and  even  dignified  appearance  in  the  pulpit.  lie  had  un- 
doubtedly a  high  reputation  as  a  Preacher.  He  would  not  be  considered, 
perhaps,  at  this  day,  a  graceful  and  accomplished  writer,  but  his  discourses 
were  characterized  by  great  energy  of  thought  and  perspicuity  of  style, 
and  he  had  a  corresponding  boldness  and  honesty  of  manner,  that  was  well 
fitted  to  gain  and  hold  the  attention.  Of  the  character  of  his  sermons  I  judge 
only  from  tradition,  and  from  the  very  few  specimens  that  are  in  print;  as  his 
son  informed  me  that,  soon  after  his  father's  death,  he  had,  according  to 
direction,  performed  the  painful  task  of  committing  all  his  manuscript  sermons 
to  the  flames. 

As  to  his  religious  opinions,  I  suppose  there  is  no  doubt  that,  through  his 
whole  ministry,  he  was  a  High  Arian,  and  a  constant  preacher  of  the  doctrines 
in  that  age  termed  liberal;  but,  if  now  living,  probably  he  would  be  standing 
midway   between  what  is  called  Orthodoxy  and  Modern  Liberality. 

Dr.  Hitchcock  was  remarkable  both  for  courage  and  for  patriotism.  The  first 
sermon  which  he  published,  addressed  to  a  military  company,  when  the 
French  were  making  inroads  on  our  Northern  frontier,  urges  the  most  vig- 
orous means  of  defence,  and  evinces  a  spirit  that  would  be  little  likely  to  fal- 
ter in  the  hour  of  danger.  His  Election  Sermon,  which  was  preached  only  the 
year  before  the  breaking  out  of  tlie  Revolutionary  War,  filled  Governor 
Gage,  who  was  present,  with  great  wrath,  on  account  of  the  boldness  of  its 
positions,  not  to  say,  the  air  of  defiance  that  pervaded  it.  Even  the  Preacher's 
own  friends  are  said  to  have  been  surprised  at  some  of  the  statements  which 
he  ventured  in  the  Governor's  presence.  Tradition  says  that  the  Sermon 
was  prepared  under  the  expectation  that  the  Governor  would  not  be  present 
to  hear  it;  and,  after  his  arrival  was  announced,  some  friend  earnestly  advised 
the  Doctor  to  be  very  guarded  in  his  expressions  before  him.  But  the  prompt 
answer  was, — "  My  Sermon  is  written,  and  it  Avill  not  be  altered." 

In  private  life  Dr.  Hitchcock  was  eminently  agreeable,  though  he  had  some 
strongly  marked  peculiarities.  He  was  mirthful,  and  imparted  great  anima- 
tion to  almost  every  social  circle  in  which  he  appeared.  He  could  encourage 
virtue  and  reprove  vice,  without  any  external  signs  of  austerity.  It  was 
pleasant  to  him  to  utter  or  listen  to  parables  which  exhibited  human  weak- 


GAD    HITCHCOCK.  31 

nesses,  and  led  to  a  just  estimate  of  the  opposite  excellences.     <«  Be  merry  and 
wise  "  was  his  habitual  advice  to  the  j'oung  on  occasions  of  joy. 

Perhaps  his  peculiar  turn  of  mind  cannot  be  made  more  intelligible  than  by 
the  relation  of  two  or  three  illustrative  anecdotes.  The  Doctor,  as  was  not 
unusual  at  the  period  when  he  lived,  was  very  formal  in  his  devotional  services, 
repeating.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath,  precisely  the  same  expressions.  One  of  his 
parishioners  ventured  to  suggest  to  him  the  desirableness  of  a  change  in  this 
respect,  and  told  him  that  even  the  boys  were  repeating  his  prayers  in  the 
street:  the  prompt  reply  was, — "  Then  thej^  will  know  how  to  pray  for  them- 
selves." 

There  was  a  familiarity  in  the  manners  and  conversation  of  Dr.  Hitchcock, 
not  common  among  clergymen  at  that  day.  lie  was  likely  to  enter  into  conver- 
sation with  an}'  person  he  met  in  journeying,  and  would  amuse  himself  in  giving 
and  receiving  jokes.  On  his  wa}'-  to  Boston,  he  once  fell  in  company  with  a  sailor, 
and  questioned  him  pretty  freely  concerning  his  name,  residence,  business,  &c. 
The  sailor,  having  answered  the  questions,  proposed,  in  his  turn,  similar  ques- 
tions to  the  Doctor,  and  the  reply  was  "  My  name  is  Gad  Hitchcock,  and  I  belong 
to  Tunk  —  (^by  this  name  his  parish  was  distinguished,  when  it  was  part  of 
Pembroke.)  The  sailor  repeated  the  three  names,  and,  in  his  own  peculiar 
manner,  cried  out, — "  Three  of  the  worst  names  I  ever' heard."  This  retort 
cheered  the  old  man  during  the  rest  of  his  journey.  When  the  Doctor  was 
in  Boston,  at  a  certain  time,  he  met  a  sailor,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  box 
the  compass.  The  answer  was  "Yes."  "  Let  me  hear  you."  The  sailor 
performed  correctly.  «<  Now,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  reverse  it."  This  too  was 
done  with  equal  promptness.  The  sailor  then  asked  what  his  occupation 
was;  and,  on  being  informed  that  he  was  a  minister,  asked  him  if  he  could 
repeat  certain  portions  of  Scripture;  and  when  the  Doctor  had  repeated  them, 
"  Now  "  said  the  sailor,  "  reverse  them."  Such  a  joke  Dr.  Hitchcock  would 
enjoy,  and  repeat  with  great  satisfaction. 

He  was  a  very  prominen-t  and  valued  mepiber  of  the  Association  of  minis- 
ters to  which  he  belonged.  Sometimes  his  jokes  upon  certain  individuals  were 
rather  severe;  but  he  imparted  great  animation  to  their  social  meetings.  On 
one  occasion,  when  he  had  made  some  remark  that  produced  a  general  laugh, 
one  of  the  members  observed  that  the  brethren  would  laugh  at  any  thing  Dr. 
Hitchcock  might  say,  but  that  he  might  have  said  the  same  thing,  and  it 
Avould  have  passed  unnoticed.     "  Tr}',"  said  the  Doctor. 

In  these  several  instances,  we  see  the  man  in  the  hours  of  relaxation  from 
laborious  pursuit;  but  it  would  be  v/rong  to  infer  that  the  energies  of  his 
mind  were  not  habituall}'  applied  to  more  important  objects.  His  protracted 
ministrjr  was,  in  every  period  of  it,  peaceful  and  apparently  prosperous.  The 
Parish,  small  at  first,  grew,  under  his  ministry,  to  a  very  respectable  size. 
The  Doctor's  friends  are  said  to  have  often  expressed  their  surprise  that  a 
man  of  such  vigorous  powers,  and  such  popular  talents,  should  have  consented 
to  settle  and  to  remain  in  so  obscure  a  place;  but  he  was  accustomed  to  say 
that  it  was  his  deliberate  choice,  and  he  had  always  been  well  satisfied  with 
his  situation.  He  loved  his  people,  and  they  loved  and  respected  him.  His 
memory  is  still  gratefully  cherished  in  this  neighbourhood. 

With  much  consideration. 

Your  friend  and  servant, 

MORRILL  ALLEN. 


32  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


•    DAVID  BARNES,  D.  D.* 

1753—1811. 

David  Barnes  was  Lorn  in  oMarlborougli,  Mass.,  on  the  24tli  of  IMurcli  * 
1731.  He  was  a  son  of  Daniel  Barnes,  a  substantial  farmer,  having 
twelve  cliilJron,  of  whom  David  was  the  fifth.  He  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College  in  1752,  and  must  have  commenced  preacliing  shortly  after. 
as  he  received  an  invitaiion  to  settle  in  Quincy  in  1753.  This  invitation 
ho  declined  ;  and  afterwards  declined  it  a  second  time,  upon  its  being 
renewed  under  more  favoura1)le  circumstances.  He  preached  first  to  the 
Second  Cluirch  in  Scituate,  in  June,  1754,  and,  on  the  15th  of  August 
followino',  was  unanimously  invited  to  become  their  Pastor.  He  accepted 
the  invitation,  and  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  4th  of  the  ensuing 
December. 

His  ministry  opened  with  fair  prospects,  and  his  people  were  united  and 
prosperous;  but,  before  many  years,  he  had  to  encounter  serious  difficulties, 
growing  chiefly  out  of  the  distracted  state  of  the  country.  Throughout 
the  War  of  the  Revolution,  his  salary  was  paid  in  the  depreciated  Continen- 
tal currency,  and  he  was  obliged  to  depend  almost  entirely  for  the  support 
of  his  family  on  the  small  property  of  his  wife.  When  the  controversy, 
•which  resulted  in  the  division  of  the  Congregational  Church  of  Massachu- 
setts, began,  it  was  well  understood  that  his  sympathies  were  on  the 
"liberal"  side;  and,  as  there  Avas  a  portion  of  his  congregation  who  dis- 
agreed with  him,  he  used  frequently  to  converse  with  them,  and  sometimes 
manifested  a  degree  of  shrewdness,  which  few  were  able  successfully  to 
meet.  His  death  occurred  before  the  lines  between  the  two  parties  were 
formally  and  finally  drawn. 

In  the  year  1780  he  delivered  the  Dudleian  Lecture  at  Harvard  Univer- 
sity ;  and,  in  1799,  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the  same 
institution. 

Dr.  Barnes  exhibited  great  calmness  and  dignity  in  his  old  age.  He 
used  to  say  that,  even  if  it  were  not  the  fixed  design  of  Providence  that 
nothing  should  go  back,  it  would  still  be  his  choice  to  go  forward,  and  see 
for  himself  what  is  to  come  in  other  modes  of  existence.  In  1809,  fifteen 
months  before  his  death,  he  had  a  colleague  settled,  and,  after  that,  he 
attempted  but  few  public  services.  He  died  on  the  26th  of  April,  1811, 
having  completed  eighty  years,  fifty-seven  of  which  he  had  spent  in  the 
ministr}'. 

He  was  married,  in  1756,  to  Ptachel,  daughter  of  the  Hon.  George 
Leonard,  of  Norton.  They  had  three  children, — one  son  and  two  daughters. 
The  son,  (Damd  LeoJiard,)  was  born  January  28th,  1760;  was  graduated 
at  Harvard  College  in  1780;  was  a  lawyer  of  distinction  in  Taunton  and 
Providence,  and  afterwards  Judge  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United 
States  for  Rhode  Island.     He  died  on  the  3d  of  November,  1812. 

•  Deanc'a  Hist,  of  Scituate. — Ms.    from  Rev.  C.  Stetson. 


DAVID    BARNES.  33 

Tlie  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Barnes'  publications  :  — 
An  Ordination  Sermon,  1756.  A  Sermon  on  the  Love  of  Life  and 
Fear  of  Death,  1795.  A  Discourse  on  Education,  before  tlie  Trustees  of 
the  Derby  Academy,  1796.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Washington,  1800. 
A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Kev.  Jan)es  Hawley,  1801.  A  Sermon  at 
the  Ordination  of  Jothani  Waterman,*  1802.  In  1815,  a  small  posthumous 
volume  of  Dr. Barnes'  sermons  was  published,  with  a  notice  of  his  character, 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  AUyn  of  Duxbury. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JAMES  KENDALL,  D.  D. 

Plymouth,  Mass.,  December  16,  1848. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  think  I  understand  the  oliject  of  your  letter,  and  it  is  in  my 
heart  to  comply  at  once  with  your  request.  The  only  circumstance  that  em- 
barrasses me  is  the  fear  of  leaving  a  wrong  impression  of  Dr.  Barnes'  char- 
acter. It  is  impossible  dul}^  to  appreciate  him  without  having  known  him, — 
not  merely  as  a  minister,  but  as  a  man  in  all  the  relations  of  life.  His  char- 
acter was  so  peculiar  that  unless  the  different  parts  of  it  are  viewed  in 
connection  with  each  other,  he  will  be  sure  to  pass  for  something  that  he 
really  was  not.  I  think  I  knew  him  tolerably  well;  for  I  often  saw  him  and 
heard  him,  in  public  and  in  private,  at  home  and  abroad;  and  in  the  earlier  part 
of  my  ministry  he  frequently  visited  this  place.  I  considered  him  not  only 
an  affectionate  husband  and  father,  and  a  generous  and  candid  neighbour  and 
friend,  but  a  man  of'  profound  reverence  for  sacred  things,  and  of  strong  reli- 
gious sensibility.  And  yet  the  report  of  many  of  his  sayings  would,  I  tliink, 
leave  on  the  mind  of  the  hearer  or  reader,  who  knew  him  only  from  these 
sayings,  a  different  impression  —  they  would  seem  to  indicate  a  levity  of  mind, — 
an  irreverent,  not  to  say  frivolous,  way  of  speaking  of  things  of  a  serious 
nature.  This  arose  partly  from  a  quaint,  laconic,  pithy  manner  of  giving 
utterance  to  his  thoughts.  He  was  accustomed  to  condense  every  thing  that 
he  said,  in  the  highest  possible  degree.  One  of  his  contemporaries,  with 
whom  I  was  familiar,  used  to  say, — "Every  sentence  Dr.  Barnes  writes  or 
speaks,  is  as  full  as  an  egg."  In  his  advanced  age  he  became  very  deaf,  and 
of  course  unable  to  regulate  his  own  voice.  This  added  to  the  peculiarity  of 
his  manner, —  of  which  beseemed  conscious.  On  one  occasion,  being  called 
to  deliver  an  Address  before  the  Trustees  and  Pupils  of  the  Derby  Academy  in 
Hingham, — discoursing  on  eloquence,  he  stopped  short,  and,  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  exclaimed,  "  Methinks  I  hear  some  of  you  say, — 'Physician  healthy- 
self.'  But,  my  friends,  a  physician  can  sometimes  help  others,  when  he  can't 
help  himself."  And  j^et  I  remember  hearing  my  mother  say  that  she  heard  Dr. 
Barnes  in  Lexington,  her  native  place,  when  preaching  as  a  candidate  in  early 
life,  and  that  he  was  then  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  popular  and  eloquent 
preachers  of  the  time. 

Dr.  Barnes,  as  a  Preacher,  may  be  said  to  have  been  unique.  His  voice 
was,  by  no  means,  remarkable  for  its  melody,  nor  could  he  be  said  to  manage 
it  with  any  uncommon  skill;  and  yet  there  was  that  about  his  manner,  espe- 
cially in  his  sudden  transitions  from  a  high  to  a  low  note,  that  was  well  fitted 
to  hold  the  attention.  The  matter  of  his  discourses  was  characterized  bj'  an 
almost  endless  variety.  He  would  find  lessons  of  truth  or  wisdom  in  every 
thing;  and,  though  some  of  his  subjects  might  at  first  provoke  a  smile,  yet 
he  would  always  draw  something  from   them  that   was  fitted   to   make  men 

*  JoTHAM  Waterman  was  bom  in  Scituate;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1799;. 
was  ordained  at  Barnstable,  September  30,  1801 ;  was  dismissed  in  July,  1815 ;  and  died; 
September  14,  1836,  aged  sixty-two. 

Vol.  VIII.  3 


34  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

better  in  their  various  relations.  I  remember  one  of  his  pointed  saj'ings, 
"which  he  uttered  in  his  own  emphatic  manner  and  with  great  eifect,  in  the 
Charge  which  he  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  his  colleague,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Deane — "  In  attempting,"  said  he,  "  to  instruct  your  people,  be  careful  not 
to  preach  what  they  cannot  understand;  and  especially  be  careful  not  to 
preach  what  you  do  not  understand  yourself." 

Although  Dr.  Barnes' constitution  was  naturally  delicate,  yet,  with  great 
care  and  skill,  his  health  was  preserved  to  a  good  old  age.  lie  was  a  farmer  both 
in  theory  and  in  practice,  and  was  particularly  versed  in  the  curious  economy 
of  bees,  and  successful  in  their  management.  lie  exercised  a  great  deal,  and 
was  accustomed  to  walk,  even  in  old  age,  to  distant  parts  of  his  parish.  His 
friends  remonstrated  with  him  for  making  the  effort,  and  inquired  why  he  did 
not  have  his  horse  harnessed,  and  ride  in  his  chaise.  His  answer  was  —  and 
it  became  quite  a  proverbial  saying  among  his  people  —  «'If  an  old  man 
means  to  have  any  benefit  from  his  legs,  he  must  keep  them  going."  Dr. 
Barnes'  extreme  deafness,  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  and  which  con- 
tinued through  the  last  ten  j^ears  of  his  life,  led  him  to  talk  the  more  without 
listening  to  others;  and  it  was  often  both  amusing  and  instructive  to  hear  the 
dialogues  which  he  would  carry  on  Avith  himself  in  the  midst  of  company; 
for  he  would  not,  like  the  generality  of  people,  ever  sit  silent,  or  speak  only 
in  monosyllables. 

Dr.  Barnes,  in  his  theological  views,  was  undoubtedly  an  Arminian.  His 
friend.  Dr.  AUyn,  has  said  of  him,  that  he  would  have  delighted  in  the  com- 
pany of  such  men  as  John  Locke,  Bishop  Watson,  and  Dr.  Paley,  had  he 
lived  in  their  time.  He  was  a  man  of  large  and  comprehensive  mind,  and 
of  extensive  reading.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  heard  him,  either  in  public 
or  private,  state  his  views  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  yet  from  facts 
that  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  was  in  some  sense 
a  Unitarian,  believing,  however,  in  the  pre-existence  of  the  Saviour.  He  was 
not  accustomed  to  introduce  controversial  subjects  into  the  pulpit,  though, 
in  private,  he  would  converse  freely  on  any  theological  question  that  might  be 
started. 

He  was  decidedly  opposed  to  all  ecclesiastical  domination,  whether 
Catholic  or  Protestant.  He  was  averse  to  controversy, —  especially  religious 
controversy,  on  account  of  the  unchristian  temper  so  often  manifested  by  those 
Avho  engage  in  it;  and,  whenever  he  was  drawn  into  it,  instead  of  meeting  his 
opponent  by  a  direct  argument,  he  would  often  reason  most  ingeniously  by 
parables. 

I  have  in  my  recollection  a  good  many  sayings  of  Dr.  Barnes, —  some  of 
which  I  heard  mj'self,  and  others  I  received  from  those  who  heard  them,  which 
are  characteristic  of  his  peculiar  manner.  It  was  his  practice,  whether  at  a 
■marriage  or  a  funeral,  to  describe  the  character  of  the  parties.  If  at 
a  funeral,  for  instance, —  supposing  the  deceased  were  of  a  mixed  character, 
partly  good  and  commendable  and  partly  otherwise,  it  would  be  known  by 
the  service.  From  his  charitable  disposition,  how'ever,  he  would  dwell  par- 
ticularl)'^  on  the  good  qualities  of  the  deceased;  which  led  my  neighbour. 
Father  Willis,  once  to  remark  that  Dr.  Barnes  was  the  only  clerg3'man  ho 
ever  knew,  who  could  describe  the  character  of  a  person  in  a  funeral  service 
without  giving  offence.  One  of  the  anecdotes  that  yet  remain  concerning  the 
Doctor  is,  that  at  the  funeral  of  a  respectable  parishioner,  who  had  many 
virtues,  and  whose  general  character  was  praiseworthy, —  but  who,  at  an 
earlier  period  of  life  had  fallen  into  some  immorality, —  of  which,  however,  it 
was  generally  believed  he  had  repented, —  having  dwelt  upon  the  good  traits 
in  the  character  of  his  parishioner,  Dr.  Barnes,  after  a  sudden  pause,  pro- 
ceeded: —  "In  short,  we  know  nothing  against  the  character  of  our  deceased 


WILLIAM    SYMMES.  35 

friend,  save  in  the  matter  of  Uriah;  and  for  this  every  body  forgave  him,  but 
he  could  never  forgive  himself." 

I  shall  be  glad,  if  what  I  have  thus  written,  currente  calamo,  shall  be  of  any 
use  in  enabling  you  to  understand  and  illustrate  the  character  of  a  man,  who, 
for  both  his  intellectual  and  moral  qualities,  well  deserves  to  be  commemorated. 

With  great  respect  and  regard. 

Your  friend  and  brother, 

JAMES  KENDALL. 


WILLIAM  SYMMES,  D.  D. 

1757—1807. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ARIEL  ARBOT,  D.  D. 

Peterborough,  N.  H.,  May  29, 1850. 

My  dear  Friend  :  As  I  was  somewhat  acquainted  with  Dr.  Symmes,  of 
Andover,  and  occasionally  heard  him  preach,  and,  after  his  death,  resided 
several  years  in  the  parish  where  lie  had  been  settled,  and  had  intimate 
intercourse  with  his  friends  and  parishioners,  I  cannot  reasonably  decline 
your  request  for  some  notices  of  his  character  and  ministry.  If  the  fol- 
lowing imperfect  and  meagre  sketch  can  avail  to  your  purpose,  I  shall  feel 
happy  in  having  contributed  it. 

William  Symmes  was  a  descendant  of  the  Rev.  Zacharias  Symmes, 
who  came  to  this  country  in  1635,  and  settled  in  Charlegtown,  Mass.  He 
AVilliam)  was  born  in  Charlestown  in  the  year  1731,  and  was  graduated 
at  Harvard  College,  in  1750,  where  he  was  a  Tutor  from  1755  to  1758. 
He  began  to  preach  in  the  North  Parish  in  Andover  soon  after  the  decease 
of  the  Rev.  John  Barnard.  On  the  5th  of  December,  1757,  he  was  invi- 
ted to  settle  there  in  the  Gospel  ministry,  and  the  third  Wednesday  of 
March  following  was  appointed  for  his  Ordination  ;  but,  on  account  of  his 
being  visited  by  a  severe  illness,  his  Ordination  did  not  take  place  till  the 
1st  of  November,  1758  —  the  Sermon  on  that  occasion  was  preached  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Cooke  of  Notomy,  since  West  Cambridge.  Here  he  con- 
tinued his  labours  with  great  acceptance  and  usefulness  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury. He  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  Col- 
lege in  1803.     He  died  on  the  third  of  May,  1807,  aged  seventy-six. 

The  ministry  of  Doctor  Symmes  embraced  a  very  difficult  and  eventful 
period.  He  was  settled  during  the  French  War.  Soon  after  the  Peace  of 
1763,  the  troubles  between  Great  Britain  and  the  Colonies  commenced, 
which  brought  on  the  War  of  the  Revolution.  During  this  war,  the  depre- 
ciation of  the  currency,  and  the  pressure  on  the  people,  rendered  it  difficult 
for  clergymen  to  support  their  families.  The  Federal  Government  was 
scarcely  organized  before  the  commencement  of  the  French  Revolution, 
which  divided  this  country  into  parties,  and,  by  increasing  the  demand  for 
the  articles  of  living,  operated  unfavourably  upon  all  who  depended  upon 
a  small  stipend  for  maintenance.  The  nobleness  of  mind  with  which 
he  sustained  the  embarrassment  may  be  seen  from   the  following  transac- 


36  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

tion: — In  April,  1780,  the  parish  "voted  to  raise  £1,940,  to  pay  the 
deficiency  of  Rev.  Mr.  Syinines'  salary  since  the  depreciation  of  paper 
money,  which  is  esteemed,  with  the  money  already  given  him,  equal  to  the 
£80  contracted,  to  tlie  commencement  of  the  present  year  of  his  minis- 
try."— >'  The  llev.  W.  Symnies  gives  his  thanks  to  the  parish  for  their 
generous  vote,  and  relinquislies  one  thousand  dollars  of  the  XI, 940." 

During  his  ministry  there  was  harmony  in  the  church  ;  his  people  were 
remarkably  united;  in  his  large  parish  there  were  no  sectaries.  His  par- 
ishioners, with  whom  I  have  been  intimate,  were  accustomed  to  speak  of 
him  with  great  respect,  and  they  who  were  most  capable  of  appreciating 
his  talents  and  acquirements,  held  him  in  high  estimation.  Harmony  and 
good  fellowship  were  maintained  between  him  and  Mr.  French,  the  minis- 
ter of  the  South  parish,  notwithstanding  they  differed  considerably  in 
their  views  of  some  theological  subjects.  They  regularly  exchanged  labours 
the  Sabbath  after  the  Annual  Fast  and  Thanksgiving,  and  occasionally  at 
other  times,  and  kept  up  a  Monthly  Lecture  alternately  in  each  parish, 
each  supplying  the  other's  pulpit. 

Dr.  Symmes  was  a  good  scholar,  of  extensive  reading,  and  an  able  divine. 
He  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  his  profession,  and  was  occupied  through 
life  in  theological  pursuits.  His  sermons  were  full  of  appropriate  thoughts, 
and  were  written  with  great  care,  and  in  a  style  remarkably  neat,  perspic- 
uous and  correct.  His  preaching  was, plain  and  practical.  Subjects  of 
controversy  I  think  he  rarely  brought  into  the  pulpit.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, omit  to  notice  what  he  regarded  the  prevailing  errors  of  the  times. 
His  discourses  were  not  delivered  with  such  fluency  and  grace  as  to  charm 
and  captivate  the  multitude  ;  but  they  were  highly  valued  by  men  of  cul- 
tivated minds.  In  his  religious  opinions  he  accorded  rather  with  Armiu- 
ius  than  Calvin  ;  and  with  Arius  rather  than  Athanasius.  Though  he  was 
constituted  with  much  more  than  ordinary  excitability,  his  self-control 
rarely  failed  him.  He  was  called  to  experience  many  severe  afflictions, 
but  he  bore  them  with  exemplary  fortitude  and  resignation.  He  was  mod- 
est and  diffident,  and,  it  is  said,  could  never  divest  himself  of  feelings,  in 
the  discharge  of  public  duty,  which  often  embarrass  young  men,  when  enter- 
ing on  the  sacred  profession.  He  was  a  strict  observer  of  order  and  p. 
priety.  He  was  of  about  the  middle  height  and  somewhat  corpulent; 
and,  when  dressed,  he  wore  a  white  bush-wig,  in  accordance  with  the  fash- 
ion of  his  early  days.  His  manners  were  dignified  but  easy  ;  he  was  hos- 
pitable and  benevolent,  and,  by  his  urbanity,  rendered  himself  espec- 
ially agreeable  to  strangers.  He  was  distinguished  for  his  prudence,  hia 
sound  moral  principles,  his  unshaken  integrity  and  irreproachable  conduct. 
It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  he  gave  a  strict  injunction  that  his  manu- 
scripts should  be  burned  immediately  after  his  death  ;  which  injunction 
was  faithfully  complied  with.  No  other  man  in  the  town  was  probably  so 
well  acquainted  as  himself  with  the  history  of  his  settlement,  and  of  the 
early  settlers,  and  of  various  interesting  occurrences. 

Dr.  Symmes'  publications  were  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1768  ;  a  Dis- 
course on  the  Duty  and  Advantages  of  Singing  Praises  to  God,  1779  ;  and 
the  Sermon  at  the  General  Election,  1785.  He  delivered  the  Dudleian 
Lecture  in  1786  ;  but  it  was  not  published. 


WILLIAM    SYMMES.  37 

He  was  uianied,  in  1750,  to  Anna,  daugliter  of  tlie  Kev.  Joshua  Gee, 
of  Boston — she  died  June  18,  1772.  Tliey  had  five  sons  and  four  daugh- 
ters, all  of  whom,  except  his  son  Daniel^  and  his  daughter  Anna,  (Mrs.  Isaac 
Cazeneau,)  died  before  iiiin.  Ilis  second  wife  was  Susannah  Powell,  who 
died  July,  1807,  aged  seventy-nine.  His  son  Daniel  went  to  the  South; 
and,  after  he  had  been  absent  several  years,  a  man  in  apparently  sad  condi- 
tion, called  on  Dr.  Syninies,  and  claimed  to  be  this  son.  The  Doctor 
rejected  liim  as  an  impostor.  He  had  obtained  some  knowledge  of  the 
Doctor's  family  and  neighbourhood,  aisd,  in  consequence  of  his  relating 
some  facts  and  occurrences  in  the  family,  and  stating  that  his  appearance 
had  been  much  altered  by  sickness  and  misfortune,  some  more  than  half 
believed  that  he  was  really  the  person  he  pretended  to  be.  The  Doctor 
put  the  fellow  to  board  at  the  house  of  a  neighbour,  that  all  might  be  sat- 
isfied that  ho  was  an  impostor.  And,  after  two  or  three  weeks,  his  object 
was  effected  —  all  becatne  convinced,  and  he  was  sent  to  the  County  Rouse 
of  Correction.  He  had  endeavoured  to  impose,  in  like  manner,  on  a  family 
in  a  neighbouring  town.  The  affair  produced  considerable  excitement  at 
Andover  and  vvas  not  a  little  vexatious  to  Dr.  Syninies. 

You  have  now  the  substance  of  not  only  all  that  I  remember,  but  all 
that  I  have  been  able  to  collect,  as  the  result  of  considerable  inquiry,  con- 
cerning this  man  of  another  generation.  If  he  did  not  leave  so  bold  and 
decided  a  mark  as  ?onie  others,  he  commanded  universal  respect  in  his  day, 
and  exerted   an  extensive,  though  comparatively  silent,  influence. 

I  am  your  affectionate  friend,  AIJIEL   ABBOT. 


SAMUEL  WEST,  D.D., 

(OF    NEW    BEDFORD.) 

1761—1807. 
FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  H.  MORTSON",  D.  D. 

Milton,  JIass.,  January  29,  1849. 
Dear  Sir:  I  am  happy  to  send  you  such  an  nccount  of  Old  Father  West 
as  I  have  been  able  to  make  up  from  materials  still  extant.  About  eight 
years  ago,  being  then  minister  of  the  Society  over  which  he  had  been  set- 
tled more  than  forty  years,  I  gathered  all  the  information  that  I  could  from 
the  church  records,  and  from  aged  people  who  remembered  him.  Ilis  son's 
family  were  so  kind  as  to  put  into  my  hands  all  his  papers,  and  his 
daughter,  since  dead,  who  inherited  some  of  his  sterling  qualities,  related 
many  little  incidents,  which,  though  most  of  them  too  trifling  to  be  writ- 
ten down,  let  me  into  his  domestic  character  and  habits,  almost  as  if  I  had 
been  myself  a  member  of  his  household.  His  church  records  have  been 
of  little  assistance  to  me.  They  were  loosely  kept,  and  mixed  up  with 
trivial  domestic  accounts, —  a  wedding  or  a  funeral  being  perhaps  set 
down  between  the  two  shillings  and  six  pence  which  l»e  liad  paid  to  a  hired 
man  the  day  when  a  pig  was  killed.     I  met  in  New  Hampshire  an  aged 


38  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

man  wlio  tolJ  me  that  he  went  into  Dr.  West's  liouse  the  evening  it  had 
been  piHaged  by  British  soldiers.  lie  found  the  beds  ripped  open,  and 
the  floors  covered  with  feathers,  sugar,  meal,  and  otlier  articles. 

But  to  be  more  orderly  in  my  narrative  —  Samuel  West,  the  fourth 
minister  of  that  part  of  Dartmouth,  which  now  makes  the  towns  of  New 
Bedford  and  Fair  Haven,  was  born  at  Yarmouth,  Cape  Cod,  March  3, 
1730,  (0.  S.) ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1754;  was  ordained 
June  3,  1761  ;  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  his 
Alma  Mater  in  1793;  withdrew  from  his  ministerial  labours  in  June,  1803, 
and  died  at  the  house  of  his  son  in  Tiverton,  R.  I.,  September  24,  1807. 

His  father,  Sackfield  AVest,  who  was  a  physician,  and  afterwards  one  of 
the  most  zealous  New  Lights  of  his  day,  removed,  soon  after  Samuel  was 
born,  to  Barnstable.  Here  the  son  laboured  as  a  farmer  till  he  had 
reached  his  twentieth  year;  but,  during  that  time,  exhibited  such  traits 
of  mind,  and  especially  such  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  as  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  few  intelligent  men  who  happened  to  know  him.  He 
was  fitted  for  College  in  six  months,  under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Grreea 
of  Barnstable.  He  had  many  a  severe  controversy  wilh  his  teacher  on  the 
doctrine  of  Necessity,  a  subject  which  continued  to  engage  his  thoughts 
through  life.  He  went  to  College  in  1750,  bare-footed,  carrying  his  shoes 
and  stockings  in  his  hand,  and,  at  the  examination,  had  a  dispute  with  one 
of  the  examiners  as  to  a  Greek  reading,  in  which  he  is  said  to  have  car- 
ried his  point.  He  was  classmate  of  Gov.  Hancock,  and  among  the  most 
distinguished  of  his  class. 

After  leaving  College,  he  devoted  himself  to  almost  every  branch  of 
science,  though  Theology  was  his  principal  study.  History  and  politics, 
the  physical  sciences  and  metaphysics,  medicine  and  law,  were  all  subjects 
on  which  he  was  glad  to  improve  every  opportunity  of  gaining  informa- 
tion;  and  the  consequence  was,  that,  though  living  in  an  obscure  place, 
with  few  appliances  of  learning  within  his  reach,  and  none  to  sympathize 
with  him  in  his  pursuits,  he  proved  himself,  in  vigour  and  exactness  of 
thought,  and  in  the  variety  and  extent  of  the  subjects  which  he  mastered, 
inferior  to  very  few  men  of  his  time. 

He  was  settled  in  1761,  on  a  salary  of  sixty-six  pounds,  thirteen  shil- 
lings and  sixpence.  Besides  this,  seventeen  members  of  the  precinct 
bound  themselves  to  provide  "  the  keeping  one  horse,  and  two  cows, 
winters  and  summers,  as  they  ought  to  be  kept."  But  the  salary  was  not 
paid.  In  1779,  his  circumstances  were  "  so  deplorable  as  to  demand  im- 
mediate relief,"  and  a  committee  was  appointed  by  the  precinct  to  procure 
fire  wood  and  corn  for  his  family.  In  1788,  he  represents  the  Society  as 
owing  hira  seven  hundred  and  sixty-nine  pounds,  twelve  shillings  and 
eleven  pence,  and  urges  the  payment  of  it — "  My  reasons  for  this  request," 
he  says,  "are.  First,  I  owe  money  upon  interest  which  I  cannot  pay  until 
the  money  due  to  me  be  collected  in.  Secondly,  I  have  suS"ered  greatly 
for  the  necessaries  of  life,  especially  in  the  article  of  clothing;  for  which 
I  have  been  beholden  to  money  obtained  from  another  quarter."  These 
embarrassments  were  somewhat  relieved  by  a  small  patrimony,  and  by  the 
kindness  of  his  friends  abroad,  of  whom  no  one  showed  a  warmer  interest 
in  all  that  concerned    him,  or  a  greater  readiness  to  relieve  him,  than 


SAMUEL    WEST.  39 

Samuel  Eliot  of  Boston,  whose  .sympathy  and  aid  were  so  liberally  ex- 
tended to  the  clergymen  of  New  England  at  that  critical  time.  In  one  of 
his  letters  to  Dr.  West,  after  speaking  of  "a  bundle  containing  cloth  and 
triniiuiiigs  for  a  suit  of  clothes  complete,  togetlier  with  one  piece  of  yard 
wide  linen,"  he  says,  "  I  pray  God  to  give  you  better  days  and  happier 
prospects.  One  consolation,  however,  my  good  Sir,  remains  with  you, — 
tliiit  though  your  present  scene  is  dark  and  gloomy,  your  future  views  are 
briglit  and  luminous.  The  dawn  of  celestial  day  will  soon  open  upon 
you."  Such  a  letter,  even  more  than  the  gift,  must  have  served  to 
strengtlien  and  encourage  one  who  was  labouring  under  circumstances  so 
depressing.  Among  his  own  Society  he  could  have  found  little  intellec- 
tual sympathy.  They  were  a  plain,  industrious,  uneducated  people.  A 
good  woman,  now  living,  and  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  tells  me  that  she 
remembers  liis  visiting  at  the  house  where  she  was,  when  she  was  quite 
young.  For  tea,  baked  apples  and  bread  were  crumbled  into  a  large  pan 
of  milk  at  the  centre  of  the  table,  and  Dr.  West  and  the  grown  up  mem- 
bers of  the  household  all  ate  together  from  the  same  vessel, —  the  Doctor 
exhibiting  no  improper  squeamishness  at  the  mode  of  procedure,  but,  as  a 
faithful   Pastor  should,  setting  an  edifying  example  of  active  diligence. 

Dr.  West  was  twice  married  ; — first,  on  the  7th  of  March,  1768,  to  Ex- 
perience, daugiiter  of  Consider  Howland, —  who  became  the  mother  of  six 
children,  and  died  March  6,  1789  ;  and  again,  on  the  20th  of  January, 
1790,  to  Lovisa,  widow  of  Benjamin  Jenne,  and  daughter  of  Jacob 
Hatliavvay,  of  Dartmouth,  who  died  jMarcli  18,  1797.  There  were  no 
children  by  the  second  marriage.  One  of  his  sons,  Samuel,  was  settled 
as  a  physician  at  Tiverton,  11.  I.,  and  held  a  very  high  rank  in  his 
profession. 

Both  Dr.  West's  wives  were  women  of  uncommon  excellence  ;  and,  if 
they  knew  little  of  the  subjects  that  most  engaged  his  thoughts,  (hey 
knew  better  than  he  how  to  lengthen  out  the  shortcomings  of  his  income 
into  the  means  of  a  comfortable  support.  His  first  wife  was  a  tall  woman  ; 
and,  in  reference  to  that  and  in  connection  with  her  Christian  name,  he 
used  to  say  that  he  had  "learned  from  long  Experience  that  it  was  a  good 
thing  to  be  married." 

From  the  beginning  of  our  difficulties  with  the  mother  country  Dr.  West 
was  an  ardent  patriot.  He  could  keep  no  terms  with  those  who  were  hesi- 
tating or  lukewarm,  but  blazed  out  against  them.  And  he  did  not  confine 
himself  to  tlie  expression  of  his  opinions  in  his  own  quiet  home.  Imme- 
diately after  the  battle  at  Bunker's  Hill,  he  set  out  to  join  the  American 
Army,  and  do  what  he  might  as  a  minister  of  God,  to  keep  up  their  cour- 
age, lie  remained  there  several  months  as  a  Chaplain.  From  the  camp, 
while  exposed  to  the  enemy's  artillery,  he  wrote  to  his  wife  with  as  muck 
composare  as  he  would  in  his  own  study.  It  was  while  in  the  army,  as  tk 
Chaplain,  that  he  gained  great  notoriety  by  deciphering  for  General  Wash- 
injiton  a  treasonable  letter  from  Dr.  Church  to  an  officer  in  the  British 
Army,  of  which  a  full  account  may  be  found  in  the  third  volume  of  Sparks' 
Writings  of  Washington,  pp.  502-6.  In  1776,  he  delivered  a  Discourse 
(afterwards  printed)  before  the  Provincial  Convention  at  Watertown,  and 
in  December,  1777,  he  delivered  the  Anniversary  Sermon  at  Plymouth^ 


40  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

All  bis  karning,  which  was  great,  and  liis  religious  enthusiasm,  were  em- 
ployed in  behalf  of  his  country.  In  times  of  the  greatest  darkness,  he 
roused  the  spirits  of  the  people  by  showing  that  in  the  very  events,  which 
threw  such  a  gloom  over  the  country,  was  the  beginning  of  the  fulfihnent 
of  ancient  prophecies,  which  must  eventually  lead  on  to  their  deliverance. 
Before  ihe  War  began,  he,  from  the  Scriptures,  predicted  these  more  try- 
ing times,  and,  from  the  faithful  accomplishment  of  those  predictions  in 
the  darkest  hour,  he  looked  forward  almost  with  exultation  to  the  glorious 
fulfilment  of  what  yet  remained,  when  this  country,  then  so  harassed  by 
war,  should,  to  use  his  own  words,  "be  the  place  to  which  the  persecuted 
in  other  nations  shall  flee  from  the  tyrann}'  of  their  oppressors,  and  our 
Zion  shall  become  the  delight  and  praise  of  the  whole  earth."  When  we 
remember  that  no  person  in  New  England  had  such  a  reputation  fur  a  pro- 
found acquaintance  with  the  prophetical  writings,  we  may  form  some  idea 
of  the  influence  of  these  sentiments,  by  which  our  people  were  led  to  view 
themselves  as  instruments  of  the  Almighty  in  the  accomplishment  of  events, 
predicted  by  his  holy  prophets,  thousands  of  years  before.  He  must  have 
read  the  histor}'  of  man  with  a  careless  eye,  who  does  not  see  that,  in  a 
great  national  crisis  like  that,  such  an  appeal  to  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  to 
his  promises,  is  the  strongest  appeal  that  can  be  made  to  the  human  heart. 

Father  West,  as  he  was  always  called  at  that  time,  was  an  influential 
member  of  the  Convention  that  formed  the  Constitution  of  the  State  of 
Massachusetts,  and  also  of  the  Convention  for  the  adoption  of  the  Consti- 
tution of  the  United  States  ;  and  in  this  latter  Convention  it  was  in  no 
small  measure,  through  his  personal  influence  with  Governor  Hancock, 
that  tl.at  distinguished  man  was  persuaded  to  give  his  assent  to  the  adop- 
tion of  the  Federal  Constitution.  An  interesting  account  of  this  whole  mat- 
ter I  have  received  in  a  letter  from  the  Hon.  Francis  Baylies,  the  able  histo- 
rian of  the  Plymouth  Colony,  to  my  friend  the  Hon.  John  H.  CliS"ord,  of  New 
Bedford,  from  which  the  following  account,  slightly  condensed,  is  taken  : — 

"  The  fate  of  the  Constitution  in  the  Convention  was  doubtful,  when 
Governor  Hancock,  without  whose  aid  it  certainly  could  not  be  adopted, 
was  seized  with  his  constitutional  disorder,  the  gout,  and,  withdrawing  from 
the  chair,  took  to  his  bed.  The  friends  of  the  Constitution  were  convinced 
of  the  necessity  of  getting  him  out.  Dr.  West  was  selected  as  the  person 
most  likely  to  influence  liim.  He  repaired  to  his  house,  and,  after  a  long 
condolence  on  the  subject  of  his  bodily  complaints,  he  expressed  his  deep 
regrets  that  this  affliction  should  have  come  upon  him  at  a  moment  when 
his  presence  in  the  Convention  seemed  almost  indispensable.  He  enlarged 
upon  his  vast  influence,  his  many  acts  of  patriotism,  his  coming  forth  in 
former  days,  at  critical  periods,  to  give  new  energy  to  the  slumbering 
patriotism  of  his  countrymen,  and  on  the  prodigious  efi'eet  of  his  name. 
Heaven,  he  said,  had  given  him  another  glorious  opportunity,  by 
saving  his  country,  to  win  imperishable  honour  to  himself.  The  whole 
people  would  follow  his  footsteps  with  blessings.  The  Governor,  who 
knew  that  Dr.  West  had  always  been  liis  sincere  and  disinterested  friend, 
listened  to  his  suggestions,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  appear  again  in  the 
Convention.  Wrapped  in  his  flannels,  he  took  the  chair,  addressed  the 
'Convention,  proposed  the  conciliatory  plan  suggested  by  his  friend,  and 


SAMUEL    WEST.  41 

the  result  is  known.  There  is  little  doubt  that  Hancock  turned  the  scale 
in  this  State  in  favour  of  the  Constitution,  and  in  my  mind  there  is  little 
doubt  that  Dr.  West  induced  hira  to  do  it. 

"  During  the  session  of  the  Convention  Dr.  West  spent  many  of  his 
evenings  abroad.  lie  generally  returned  with  his  pockets  filled  with  fine 
handkerchiefs,  silk  stockings,  silk  gloves,  small  pieces  of  cambric,  and  many 
other  articles  which  could,  without  attracting  attention,  be  slipped  into 
his  pocket.  His  distress,  on  discovering  them,  was  ludicrous  ;  fur,  aware  of 
his  absence  of  mind,  he  supposed  that  he  might  have  taken  these  articles 
unconsciously,  and  without  the  consent  of  the  owners,  but  his  fellow- 
boarders  generally  contrived  to  convince  him  that  they  were  designed  as 
presents — which  was  the  truth." 

"  I  well  remember,"  continues'  Mr.  Baylies,  "  the  effect  which  the  oddity 
of  his  manners  produced;  but  I  was  too  young  to  appreciate  the  force  and 
originality  of  his  conversation.  Separate  from  metaphysics  and  theology, 
he  was  a  great  man,  and  his  great  and  universal  knowledge,  notwithstand- 
ing his  eccentricity  and  roughness,  rendered  his  conversation  always  agree- 
able, and  sometimes  delightful." 

Dr.  West  watched  the  progress  of  the  French  Revolution  with  extreme 
jealous}'.  Nothing  more  roused  his  indignation  than  to  find  the  young  in 
any  way  countenancing  the  licentious  doctrines  which  were  then  gaining 
currency.  An  anecdote  illustrative  of  this  has  been  told  me  by  a  strong- 
minded  excellent  man,  who  was  then  young  and  recently  married.  Know- 
ing that  Dr.  West  was  to  spend  the  Sabbath  evening  at  his  father's,  and 
feeling  confident  of  his  own  strength,  he  determined  to  encounter  him. 
He  began  by  some  remarks  on  contracts,  stating  that  he  considered  a  con- 
tract annulled  when  its  conditions  were  fulfilled,  and  that  no  contract 
could  be  perpetually  binding.  To  illustrate  this,  he  mentioned  the  contract 
of  marriage.  Here  the  old  man  interrupted  him  by  a  low  growl,  but  he 
went  on  with  his  argument  to  show  that  the  marriage  contract  might  easily 
be  dissolved.  "  Ugh,"  growled  the  Doctor,  in  a  hoarse  gruff  voice, 
"Ugh,  a  great  many  people  think  so  now-a-days."  The  young  man  still 
persevered  till  the  Doctor,  able  to  bear  it  no  longer,  burst  upon  him  in  a 
strain  of  indignant  eloquence,  pouring  out  passages  of  Scripture  in  a  tor- 
rent, urging  the  authority  of  distinguislied  writers,  the  example  of  govern- 
ments, the  arguments  to  be  drawn  from  reason,  from  the  principles  of 
natural  religion  and  morality,  and  ending  with  this  emphatic  declaration, 
— "  So  sacred  among  all  Christian  nations  has  been  this  connection,  that, 
when  marriage  has  been  solemnized  without  the  consent  of  the  parents, 
and  the  parties  have  been  immediately  pursued,  if  once  the  contract  has 
been  sealed,  not  all  the  kings,  and  governments,  and  authorities  in  the 
world,  can  dissolve  the  union."  My  friend  added  that,  after  this  experi- 
ment, he  had  no  disposition  to  measure  his  strength  again  with  his  minister. 

Dr.  West  began  his  ministry  at  a  period  of  religious  excitement,  such 
as  our  country  never  before  had  witnessed.  Many,  without  learning, 
without  fixed  principles,  or  any  habits  of  thought,  were  led  on  by  a  sort 
of  religious  frenzy  to  propose  doctrines  and  measures  by  which,  in  the 
extravagance  of  inward  illuminations,  the  authority  of  reason  and  the 
Scriptures,  of  civil  government  and  ecclesiastical  forms,  should  be  dis- 


42  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

pensed  with.*  There  was  undoubtedly  much  that  was  lifeless  in  our 
churches,  or  such  a  series  of  events  could  not  have  been — it  is  only  the 
dryness  of  the  prairie  that  gives  fury  to  the  flames.  But  whatever  we 
niiiy  ihink  of  the  cause  or  the  effect,  such  was  the  state  of  things  when 
Dr.  West  was  ordained.  He  was  surroundec*  by  new  and  wandering  lights. 
A  Society  of  them  was  formed  within  his  own  precinct.  His  father  was 
carried  away  by  the  general  feeling,  and  preached,  writing  hymns,  ser- 
mons, and  letters,  with  the  fiery  vehemence  of  a  young  convert.  "  I 
wish,''  he  said  in  a  letter,  "  that  I  could  preach  these  doctrines  to  your 
own  people."  But  the  son  did  not  invite  him  into  his  pulpit,  and  the  rules 
whicii  he  then  laid  down  for  the  way  in  which  the  Gospel  is  to  be 
preached,  although  specially  intended  for  the  times,  as  they  tlicn  were,  are 
hardly  less  applicable  now.  "The  style  of  preacliiiig,"  he  tells  us,  "  must 
be  simple,  not  abounding  in  those  pompous,  high  flown  metaphors,  which, 
under  the  appearance  of  contuiuing  some  very  sulilime  mysteries  and  pro- 
found sense,  are  oidy  a  jingle  or  play  of  words."  '•  This  is  tlie  common 
fault  of  enthusiasts,  and  men  of  too  warm  an  imagination,  who,  fancying 
to  themselves  that  they  have  frequent  communion  and  fellowship  with  God, 
imagine  their  understandings  are  illuminated  far  beyond  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. This  prompts  them  to  use  the  mystical  language  which  they  mistake 
for  good  sense  and  sublime  theology." 

Then,  as  now,  there  were  those  who,  from  an  exclusive  rationalism, 
rejected  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  Christianity;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  the  exclusive  religious  zealots,  who,  in  the  fervour  of  their  devotions, 
forgot  the  duties  of  a  Glirislian  life,  and  would  entirely  divorce  faith  from 
reason,  and  piety  from  virtue.  In  reference  to  these  he  says, — "  To  preach 
Christ  i.-5  to  preach  the  whole  system  of  Divinity,  as  it  consists  of  both 
Natural  and  llevealed  Religion."  "  Has  the  preacher  discharged  his  duty 
that  takes  no  care  to  show  his  people  the  obligation  they  lie  under  to  live 
sober,  righteous  and  godly  lives  ;  or  that  has  never  explained  and  insisted 
upon  the  several  branches  of  social  virtue  and  benevolence?"  ♦•  On  the 
other  hand,  can  any  one  think  that  he  has  faithfully  discharged  the  trust 
reposed  in  him,  who  insists  altogether  on  what  is  called  Natural  Religion, 
without  ever  mentioning  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  Revelation?  Why 
should  we  separate  what  God  has  joined  together?  Can  we  expect  that 
sinners  should  ever  return  to  God  with  all  their  hearts,  unless  we  show 
them  the  necessity  of  Divine  grace  in  order  thereunto?  Can  any  say 
that  there  is  any  absurdity  in  supposing  that  the  Divine  Being  may 
strengthen  and  support  our  faculties  in  the  search  of  truth,  that  he  may 
impress  upon  our  minds  a  lively  sense  of  Divine  things,  excite  us  to  piety 
and  dissuade  us  from  sin  ?"  "  Where  doctrines  of  mere  Natural  Religion 
are  insisted  on  to  the  neglect  of  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  Revelation,  we 
can  at  most  expect  to  find  only  a  few  fashionable,  civil  gentlemen,  but 
destitute  of  real  piety.  As,  on  the  other  hand,  where  the  distinguishing 
doctrines  of  Christianity  alone  are  insisted  upon,  we  shall  find  that  men 
are  very  apt  to  run  into  enthusiasm.  A  true  Gospel  minister  should  seek 
to  avoid  bolh  these  extremes.  AVhcn  he  insists  on  moral  virtues,  he  should 
enforce  them  on  Christian  motives.     He  should  preach  up  the  perfections 

•  See  Miller's  life  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  p.  85. 


SAMUEL    WEST.  42 

of  God  to  regulate  our  devotion  ;  tlie  doctrine  of  atonement  and  regenera- 
tion to  bring  us  to  Christ,  and  social  virtues  as  the  effects  of  a  Christian 
temper." 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  West  was  distinguished  for  great  strength  of  mind, 
and  what  seemed  a  complete  mastery  of  the  difficult  subjects  whicli  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  bringing  into  the  pulpit.  He  was  a  man  of  profound 
thought  and  learning,  but  the  enthusiasm  of  his  life  was  spent  on  subjects 
■which,  however  interesiing  to  the  speculative  inquirer,  have  little  to  do 
witli  the  practical  concerns  of  life. 

The  first  great  subject  to  which  he  devoted  himself  was  the  Ancient 
Prophecies.  His  writings  on  the  fulfilment  of  the  Prophecies  had  a  great 
influence.  I  have  spoken  of  them  in  connection  with  our  Revolutionary 
struggle.  The  strong  minds  of  that  day  rejoiced  to  hear  him  explain  the 
hidden  meaning  of  those  mysterious  writings,  and  show,  with  a  singular 
union  of  ingenuity  and  learning,  how  they  had  been  fulfilled  in  times  past, 
how  they  were  then  revealing  themselves  in  the  remarkable  events  of  the 
day,  and  how  they  should  at  length  break  furth  into  the  full  glory  of  the 
Millennium,  when  Christ  should  reign  a  thousand  years  upon  the  earth. 
And  there  is  often  a  curious  coincidence  between  his  predictions  and  events 
which  took  place  after  his  death.  As  an  example  from  Daniel  XI,  44  and 
Ezekiel  XXXVIII,  2,  he  says,  (and  he  came  to  these  conclusions  as  early 
as  1777,)  "  According  to  these  texts,  I  understand  that  the  Russians  are 
to  conquer  the  Turks:  but  that  previously,  the  Greeks  and  many  other 
subjects  of  the  present  Turkish  Empire  will  revolt,  and  put  themselves 
under  the  protection  of  the  Russians,  that  by  their  means  they  may  free 
themselves  from  the  Turkish  yoke."  He  believed  that  the  authority  of 
the  Pope  should  be  taken  from  him  in  1813  ;  that  ministers  of  the  Gos- 
pel were  to  be  sent  through  all  the  earth  ;  that,  through  the  remarkable 
judgments  of  God,  a  great  Religious  Reformation  should  take  place,  and 
then  the  sounding  of  the  seventh  trumpet  would  be  at  hand.  "  When  that 
period  shall  come,''  he  says,  "  time  only  can  decide."  To  one  who  reli- 
giously believes  in  their  truth,  as  he  did,  there  is  something  awfully  sublime 
in  investigations  like  these,  which  lift  up  the  veil  of  futurity,  and  disclose 
the  mighty  revolutions  which  lie  there,  waiting  the  time  which  has  been 
assigned  to  them  in  the  counsels  of  the  Almighty. 

The  great  work  of  Jonathan  Edwards  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  had 
been  published  some  years  when  Dr.  West  was  ordained,  and  from  that 
day  to  this  has  had  an  influence  on  the  Theology  of  New  England,  such  as 
can  be  attributed  to  no  other  work.  To  the  doctrines  of  this  work  Dr. 
West  never  could  assent.  He  believed  that  there  was  a  self-determining 
power  in  man.  In  opposition  to  Edwards,  he  wrote  two  remarkable 
pamphlets,  in  which  he  argues  from  the  Scriptures,  the  character  of  God, 
from  reason  itself  and  the  moral  accountability  of  man.  Whether  he 
goes  to  the  bottom  of  that  most  difficult  of  subjects,  and  fully  meets  the 
argument  which  Dugald  Stewart  says  no  man  can  answer  or  adniit,  may  be 
questioned.  The  first  pamphlet  was  published  in  1793,  the  substance  of 
the  first  part  of  it  having  been  "penned  about  twenty  years."  This  being 
soon  out  of  print,  he  republished  it  in  1795,  together  with  a  second  part, 
containing  four  essays  more.     The  work  was  answered  by  Dr.  Edwards  of 


44  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Connecticut,  who  acknowledged  Dr.  "West  to  be  the  ablest  writer  that  had 
appeared  on  that  side  of  the  subject. 

These  studies  must  have  had  great  influence  on  Dr.  West's  preaching. 
His  metaphysical  investigations  must  have  coloured  all  his  thoughts.  He 
usually  preached  without  notes,  and  was  always  prepared.  Once,  when  in 
Boston,  during  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  he  was  invited  by  Dr.  Clarke,  of 
the  First  Church,  to  preach  for  him.  About  an  hour  before  the  services 
were  to  commence,  Father  West  requested  his  friend  to  give  him  a  text. 
At  this  Dr.  Clarke  was  alarmed,  and  asked  if  it  were  possible  that  he 
was  going  to  preach  without  notes,  and  with  no  other  preparation.  "  Come, 
come,"  said  Father  West,  "it  is  my  way,  give  me  a  text."  Dr.  Clarke 
selected  Romans,  xiv.  22.  "What  if  God,  willing  to  show  his  wrath, 
and  make  his  power  known,  endured  with  much  long-sufi'ering  the  vessels 
of  wrath  fitted  to  destruction."  Dr.  West  looked  over  the  Bible  a  few 
minutes,  turning  down  leaves  here  and  there,  and  then  went  into  the 
church,  where  he  preached  a  cogent,  logical  discourse  an  hour  and  twenty 
minutes  long,  on  that  perplexing  subject.  The  strong  men  of  the  congre- 
gation were  intensely  interested,  and  Dr.  Clarke,  on  coming  from  the  pul- 
pit, exclaimed,  "  Why,  Father  West,  it  would  have  taken  me  three  months 
to  prepare  such  a  discourse."  "  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  I  have 
been  studying  it  out  twenty  years." 

Alchemy  was  another  subject  that  greatly  interested  Dr.  West.  He 
had  particularly  a  taste  for  the  Natural  Sciences,  and  Alchemy  was  to  him 
only  the  last  analysis  in  Chemistry.  It  was  the  opinion  of  Sir  Humphrey 
Davy  that  diamonds  might,  at  some  time,  be  manufactured  by  a  chemical 
process,  and  it  is  only  following  the  same  reasoning  to  suppose  that  gold 
may  be  resolved  into  elements  more  simple,  and  be  reconstructed  from 
those  elements,  as  found  in  less  precious  substances.  There  is  no  absurdity 
in  such  an  idea.  Dr.  Danforth,  of  Boston,  and  Dr.  Whitridge,  of  Tiver- 
ton, R.  I.,  both  able  physicians,  had  become  deeply  interested  in  the  sub- 
ject as  a  matter  of  speculative  inquiry,  when,  about  the  year  1785,  Dr. 
Whitridge  was  almost  heart-broken  by  the  death  of  a  favourite  daughter. 
As  a  diversion  to  his  mind,  his  friends  recommended  to  him  to  try  some 
experiments  in  Alchemy.  Having  once  begun,  he  went  on  with  untiring 
zeal.  I  have  seen  the  correspondence  on  the  subject  between  him  and  Dr. 
West,  but  it  is  in  characters,  and  a  language- so  cabalistic  as  to  be  almost 
entirely  unintelligible.  For  years  Dr.  West  and  Dr.  Danforth  aftorded 
to  him  all  the  encouragement  and  assistance  they  could.  At  last  their 
hopes  gave  out,  and  they  endeavoured  to  dissuade  him  from  further  experi- 
ments. But  nothing  could  divert  him  from  it.  It  was  the  passion  of  his 
life.  He  was  indeed  a  devoted  parent  and  friend.  He  entered  deeply  into 
other  branches  of  knowledge.  He  sympathized  with  Dr.  West  in  his  meta- 
physical studies,  and,  after  he  was  fifty  years  old,  studied  Hebrew  solely 
that  he  might  better  understand  the  Scriptures.  But  his  heart,  his 
strength,  and  his  fortune  were  given  to  his  laboratory.  When  away  from 
home  he  was  impatient  to  return,  always  supposing  that,  during  his  absence, 
the  critical  moment  might  have  come.  His  countenance  and  general 
demeanour  bore  marks  of  a  life  devoted  to  something  apart  from  the  ordi- 
nary pursuits  of  man.     For  forty  years  the  fires  of  his  furnace  were  never 


SAMUEL   WEST.  45 

permitted  to  go  out,  and  the  last  words  he  uttered  on  his  death  bed  were 
to  give  some  further  directions  respecting  tlie  process.  A  few  years  ago  I 
visited  the  laboratory,  which  remained  nearly  as  he  had  left  it,  and,  as  I 
looked  on  rafters,  retorts,  and  crucibles  stained  with  smoke,  and  remem- 
bered that  this  was  all  that  remained  from  the  unremitted  labours,  anxious 
thought,  and  enthusiasm  of  so  many  years,  I  could  not  but  think  of  other 
scenes  of  human  toil  and  ambition. 

Dr.  West  was  always  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  Dr.  Whitridge,  and 
there  frequently  met  Dr.  Hopkins  of  Newport.  It  is  not  often  that  three 
such  men  are  brought  togellier.  They  usually  spent  nearly  the  whole 
night  in  conversation.  Dr.  Hopkins  sometimes  required  a  little  sleep,  but 
the  morning  light  not  unfrequently  found  tlie  others  still  up.  On  one 
occasion.  Dr.  West  having  mounted  his  horse  a  little  before  night.  Dr.  Whit- 
ridge went  out  bare-headed  to  see  him  off.  A  new  topic  was  started.  The 
horse  walked  on  a  few  steps  and  stopped  ;  then  a  few  steps  more,  the 
friends  being  still  earnestly  engaged.  At  last  they  were  alarmed  by  the 
appearance  of  a  fire  in  the  East,  which,  after  a  short  time,  they  found  was 
the  break  of  day.  We  cannot  but  look  with  respect  upon  conversations  on 
great  subjects  carried  on  with  such  an  entire  abstraction  from  the  outward 
world. 

Dr.  West,  before  our  Revolution,  thought  he  discovered  in  the  Sacred 
Prophecies  a  prediction  of  remarkable  events  relating  to  his  own  country. 
He  went  to  the  camp,  like  a  brave  man,  as  he  was.  Tiie  village  of  the 
town  in  which  he  lived  was  plundered  and  burned.  His  own  house  was 
pillaged  by  hostile  soldiers.  But  he  could  retreat  from  all  these  things 
into  a  world  more  attractive,  or  find  tiiem  invested  with  a  solemn  and 
almost  supernatural  interest,  as  he  saw  in  them  the  hand  of  God  bringing 
out  what  ages  before  had  been  foretold. 

His  friends  would  sometimes  meet  him  on  his  horse,  which  had  perhaps 
stopped  to  feed  by  the  roadside,  the  bridle  loose,  his  hands  folded  on  his 
breast,  and  he  taking  no  notice  of  tliem.  He  would  sometimes  follow  the 
young  men  who  were  studying  Theology  with  him,  to  their  bed-chamber, 
and  remain  discoursing  to  them  nearly  the  whole  night.  Once  he  went  out 
to  drive  a  cow  from  his  yard,  and,  striking  at  her  with  along  board,  missed 
the  cow,  but  was  himself  brought  to  the  ground  by  the  weight  of  the 
board,  and  tore  his  small  clothes  through  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the 
leg.  He  knew  nothing  of  this,  but,  gathering  himself  up,  and  forgetting 
entirely  where  he  was,  went  on  without  a  hat  three  miles,  when  he  entered 
a  friend's  house,  and  passed  the  night  talking  with  him,  to  the  consterna- 
tion of  his  wife,  when,  on  his  return,  she  saw  in  what  a  plight  he  was  for  a 
visit  to  one  of  the  most  genteel  families  in  the  parish.  He  once  met  a 
friend  and  told  him  that  he  and  his  wife  were  on  their  way  to  pay  him  a 
visit.  "Your  wife,"  said  his  friend,  "  where  is  she  ?"  "Why,"  replied 
the  Doctor,  "  I  thought  she  was  on  the  pillion  behind  me."  She  had  got 
ready  to  accompany  him,  but  was  left.  He  would  sometimes,  at  the  meet- 
ing-house, stop  at  the  horse-block  for  his  wife  to  dismount,  when  she  had 
been  forgotten  and  was  still  at  home.  Once,  he  went  to  mill,  leading  his 
horse,  and  carrying  the  grist  on  his  own  shoulder.  On  being  asked  by  a 
friend  in  Boston  if  this  were  true,  he  said  with   a  laugh  that  it  was  too 


46  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

good  a  story  to  be  spoiled,  and  so  he  should  not  contradict  it.  I  have 
been  told  by  one  who  saw  him  on  his  way,  that,  when,  before  his  second 
marriage,  he  went  to  ask  the  town-clerk  to  publish  him,  he  led  his  horse 
the  whole  distance,  passing  directly  by  the  house  of  the  town-clerk,  and 
not  halting  till  he  was  brought  up  by  the  log  at  the  end  of  the  wharf. 

The  following  story  was  told  me  by  his  daughter,  and  is  unquestionably 
true.  lie  had  gone  to  Boston,  and,  a  violent  shower  coming  up  on  Satur- 
day afternoon,  he  did  not  get  home  that  evening,  as  was  expected.  The 
next  morning  his  family  were  very  anxious,  and  waited  till,  just  at  the 
last  moment,  he  was  seen  hurrying  his  horse  on  with  muddy  ruffles 
dangling  about  his  hands,  and  another  large  ruffle  hanging  out  upon  his 
bosom,  through  the  open  vest  which  he  usually  had  buttoned  close  to  his 
chin.  He  never  had  worn  such  embellishments  before,  and  never  after- 
wards could  tell  how  he  came  by  them  then.  It  was  too  late  to  change  — 
the  congregation  were  waiting.  His  daughter  buttoned  up  his  vest,  so  as 
to  hide  the  bosom  ornaments  entirely,  and  carefully  tucked  the  ruffles  in 
about  the  wrists.  During  the  opening  services  all  went  very  well.  But 
probably  feeling  uneasy  about  the  wrists,  he  twitched  at  them  till  the 
ruffles  were  flourishing  about,  and  then,  growing  warm  as  he  advanced,  he 
opened  his  vest,  and  made  such  an  exhibition  of  muddy  finery  as  probably 
tended  very  little  to  the  religious  edification  of  the  younger  portion  of  his 
audience.  *' That,"  said  his  daughter,  in  telling  the  story,  "was  the  only 
time  that  I  was  ever  ashamed  of  my  father." 

This  is  perhaps  as  good  a  place  as  any  to  tell  an  anecdote  which  has 

often   been   applied  to  other  persons,  but  which  the  late  Judge  Davis  of 

Boston,  an  admirable  authority  in  such  matters,  says  was  true  in  the  case 

of  Dr.  West.     There  had  been  difficulty  with  the  singers,  and  they  had 

given  out  that  they  should  not  sing  on  the  next  Sunday.     This  was  told  to 

Dr.  West.      "Well,  well,  we  will  see,"  he  said,  and,  on  Sunday  morning, 

gave  out  his  hymn.     After  reading  it,  he  said  very  emphatically,  "  You 

will  begin  with  the  second  verse  :-^ 

"  Let  those  refuse  to  snig 

"  Who  never  knew  our  God." 

The  hymn  was  sung. 

He  was  the  fiiend  and  associate  of  President  Stiles,  Robert  Treat 
Paine  and  Simeon  Howard.  A  letter  to  him  from  James  Otis,  written 
under  a  degree  of  mental  depression  amounting  almost  to  insanity,  shows, 
by  its  expressions  of  gratitude,  the  real  warmth  of  his  feelings.  Judge 
Sullivan  wrote  to  him  for  assistance  in  his  theological  inquiries.  Both 
Dr.  Hopkins,  of  Newport,  and  Bishop  Parker,  of  the  Episcopal  Church, 
differing  from  him  as  they  did,  theologically  or  ecclesiastically,  testified,  in 
different  ways,  their  high  respect  for  his  character. 

The  usual  reverses  of  age  fell  heavily  on  Dr.  West.  In  1787,  he  had 
lost  a  daughter,  and  the  impression  made  upon  him  by  her  death  was 
never  effaced.  He  had  buried  two  wives,  and  in  the  bereavement  of  his 
home,  had  not  near  him  the  society  of  men  who  could  understand  or  sym- 
pathize with  him  in  the  subjects  tliat  most  engaged  his  thoughts.  He  was 
imposed  upon  by  a  worthless  man,  who  contrived,  by  actual  experiment,  to 
make  him  believe  that  he  had  succeeded  in  turning  salt  water  into  fresh. 


SAMUEL    WEST.  47 

He  took  great  pains  to  interest  his  friends  in  Boston  in  this  matter,  and 
it  was  a  heavy  blow  to  his  spirits  when  he  found  that  he  had  been  deceived. 
He  tried  to  pass  it  off  with  a  joke.  "  It  requires,"  he  said,  "a  great  mind 
to  make  a  great  mistake."  A  parishioner,  taking  advantage  of  his 
absence  of  mind,  imposed  upon  him  still  more  seriously.  He  had  nearly 
prepared  for  the  press  a  rejoinder  to  the  work  which  President  Edwards 
had  written  in  reply  to  his  own,  but  the  public  interest  was  gone,  and  his 
friends  gave  him  no  encouragement.  "  These  things,"  he  said,  "  have  dis- 
heartened and  destroyed  me.  I  am  now  to  be  laid  aside  as  useless.  My 
faculties  will  go."  And  so  it  was.  He  was  more  than  ever  absent-mind- 
ed. His  memory  failed,  though  his  intellect,  when  excited,  retained  much 
of  its  vigour.  He  had  preached  the  same  sermon  to  his  own  people  three 
Sabbaths  in  succession,  but  no  member  of  his  family  was  willing  to  distress 
him  by  informing  him  what  he  had  done.  The  fourth  Sabbath,  his  daugh- 
ter saw  with  a  heavy  heart  that  he  had  his  Bible  open  at  the  same  place — 
the  Parable  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus.  Fortunately  he  left  the  room 
for  a  minute.  She  opened  the  Bible  at  another  place,  and  put  it  back 
with  the  leaves  turned  down  just  as  he  had  left  them  in  his  place.  When 
he  took  up  the  book  on  his  return,  he  seemed  for  a  moment  lost,  then  fixed 
himself  upon  the  passage  to  which  she  had  opened,  and  from  that  preached 
a  discourse,  which,  to  some  of  his  people,  seemed  the  ablest  that  he  had 
given  for  years. 

But  the  time  had  come  when  he  was  to  be  released  from  his  parish 
labours.  There  is,  to  my  mind,  something  affecting  in  the  following  paper,— 
the  last  that  he  drew  up  for  his  people.  "  Proposals  to  the  Precinct :  First, 
that  they  give  me  the  use  of  the  precinct  land  during  my  natural  life  ;  Sec- 
ondly, that  they  give  me  hay  sufficient  for  the  keeping  of  a  cow  and  horse  ; 
Thirdly,  that  they  supply  me  with  firewood  sufficient  for  my  family,  winter 
and  summer;  Fourthly,  tliat  they  supply  mc  with  Indian  corn  and  rye  suf- 
ficient for  my  family  ;  Fifthly,  that  they  supply  me  with  beef  and  pork  suffi- 
cient for  my  family,  winter  and  summer;  Sixthly,  that  they  supply  me  with 
wool  and  fiiax  sufficient  to  clothe  my  family.  If  the  Precinct  are  not  will- 
ing to  comply  with  these  proposals,  why  then,  that  the  whole  affair  be  left 
to  the  decision  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Council  of  ministers  and  delegates. 
From  your  aged  Pastor,  Samuel  "West." 

The  terms  of  a  friendly  separation  were  agreed  upon,  and  he  withdrew 
from  his  labours  in  June,  1803.  His  hist  days  were  spent  with  his  son  in 
Tiverton.  The  account  of  them  shall  be  given  in  the  words  of  one  who  had 
studied  with  him,  and  who  loved  him  as  a  father, —  Bev.  Dr.  Allyn,  of  Dux- 
bury.  "His  memory  failed  to  tliat  degree  that  it  was  with  difficulty  he 
could  recognize  his  most  familiar  friends.  The  vast  treasure  of  his  ideas 
began  to  vanish  at  the  age  of  seventy  years,  and,  during  the  course  of  the 
seven  succeeding  years,  the  great  man  disappeared,  and  it  was  an  afflictive 
sight  to  his  friends,  and  all  who  had  .known  him  in  the  glory  of  his  under- 
standing, to  perceive  he  had  survived  all  his  wit  and  learning."  But  his 
sun,  if  dimly  shining,  went  down  with  great  serenity,  as  in  an  autumnal  haze. 
At  the  house  of  his  son,  a  beloved  physician,  who  now  also  rests  from  his 
labours,  on  Thursday  morning,  at  half-past  five  o'clock,  September  24, 
1807,  the  aged  father  and  servant  of  God  breathed  his  last.     The  body 


48  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

was  brought  to  New  Bedford  to  the  church  in  which,  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury, he  had  broken  the  bread  of  life,  and  there,  after  a  Funeral  Dis- 
course, by  his  old  and  faithful  friend,  Jonathan  Moore,*  of  Rochester, 
was  placed  in  the  burying  ground,  amid  the  relics  of  those  whom  he  had 
so  often  met  in  the  house  of  prayer. 

The  following  I  believe  to  be  a  correct  list  of  Dr.  "West's  publications: — 
A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Samuel  West,  at  Needham, 
1764.  A  Sermon  preaclied  before  the  Provincial  Convention,  at  Water- 
town,  1776.  A  Sermon  preached  on  the  day  of  the  General  Election, 
1776.  A  Sermon  preached  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Landing  of  the 
Fathers  at  Plymouth,  1777.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  John  Allyn, 
at  Duxbury,  1788.  Essays  on  Liberty  and  Necessity  ;  in  which  tlie  True 
Nature  of  Liberty  is  stated  and  defended,  and  the  Principal  Arguments, 
used  by  Mr.  Edwards  and  others,  for  Necessity  are  considered  —  In  two 
Parts  —  the  first  printed  in  1793,  the  second  in  1795.  A  Tract  on  Infant 
Baptism.  I  am  very  truly  yours, 

J.  H.  MORISON. 

FROM  SAMUEL  WEST,  M.  D. 

Tiverton,  R.  I.,  March  26,  1849. 

Dear  Sir:  In  a  manuscript  memoir  of  my  grandfiither,  I  find  the  following 
statements  which  may  perhaps  prove  acceptable  to  you, — namely,  <'  that,  at 
seven  years  of  age,  he  was  perfectly  possessed  of  the  historical  parts  of  the 
Bible,  and  often  proposed  questions  about  their  meaning;  that,  at  the  age  of 
ten,  he  obtained  a  copy  of  Dilworth's  Spelling  Book,  and  became  expert  in 
English  orthography,  and  would  often  correct  others  in  their  spelling  and  pro- 
nunciation; that  he  constantly  attended  the  preaching  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Green, 
and,  at  twelve  years  of  age,  could  repeat  a  great  part  of  the  sermon  he  had 
heard  at  meeting." 

I  may  add  that  he  was  a  man  of  uncommon  physical  powers,  and,  while 
others  would  tell  of  his  gymnastic  feats,  he  was  never  fond  of  having  them 
related,  esteeming  the  intellectual  far  above  the  physical,  and,  like  nearly  all 
at  that  day  and  too  many  at  the  present,  he  neglected  those  requirements 
whereby  the  years  of  the  intellectual  man  might  have  been  much  prolonged, 
had  the  laws  governing  the  tenement  it  possessed  beeu  well  attended  to.  Being 
a  man  of  giant  frame,  (six  feet  high  and  weighing  upwards  of  two  hundred 
pounds,)  the  immediate  offspring  of  the  Puritans,  he  lived  on  to  seventy 
years,  neglecting  the  laws  of  his  physical  well-being  with  apparent  impunity, 
so  far  as  his  bodily  health  was  concerned,  but  his  mind  was  evidently  on  the 
wane,  and  soon  both  body  and  mind  were  tottering  together  to  decay.  Now, 
had  his  mental  existence  been  less  intense,  and  some  thought  been  bestowed 
on  the  tenement  through  which  this  existence  must  be  manifested,  he  might  no 
doubt  have  added  some  ten  or  fifteen  years  to  his  usefulness.  But  the  purity 
of  the  habits  of  the  people  in  those  times  took  from  the  necessity  of  attending 
to  such  matters;  and  if  a  person  early  became  decrepit,  either  in  his  bodily 
organs  or  in  his  mental  faculties,  it  was  regarded  merely  as  a  dispensation 
of  Providence,  and  acquiesced  in  as  such.  They  did  not  then  realize  that  on 
the  individual  rests  the  responsibility  not  only  of  his  corporeal  but  also  his 

♦Jonathan  Mooiie  was  born  at  Oxford,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1761 ; 
was  ordained,  and  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Rochester,  Mass.,  September  15, 1768; 
was  dismissed  December  22,  1791;  and  died  in  1814,  aged  seventy-five. 


SAMUEL    WEST.  49 

mental   well  being;  for  insanity  and  other  diseases  that  may  be  hereditary, 
are  but  the  consequence  of  disobedience  by  our  ancestors  to  the  phyisical  laws. 

I  am,  Dear  Sir, 

Your  obed't  servant, 

SAMUEL  WEST. 

FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  LOWELL.  D.  D. 

Elmwood,  April  8,  1847. 

My  dear  friend  :  I  understood  you  to  say  th.at  you  intended  to  include  among 
your  biographical  notices  of  depaited  worthies,  some  account  of  that  wonder- 
full)'  eccentric,  but  highly  gifted  and  excellent  man.  Dr.  Samuel  West,  of  New 
Bedford.  I  cannot  claim  to  have  been  intimately  acquainted  with  him,  though 
I  used  to  see  him  occasionally,  especially  on  his  visits  to  Dr.  Sanger,  at 
Bridgcwater,  while  I  lived  with  him,  fitting  for  College.  Though  his  exterior 
was  b}'  no  means  impressive,  he  was  undoubtedly,  for  intellectual  power  and 
acumen,  one  of  the  giants  of  his  time.  One  of  his  most  remarkable  charac- 
teristics was  absence  of  mind  —  whatever  subject  might  happen  to  occupy  his 
thoughts,  he  would  often  become  so  entirely  absorbed  in  it,  that  his  con- 
sciousness of  passing  events  would  seem  entirely  suspended.  I  happen  to 
have  beeen  personally  cognizant  of  one  or  two  of  his  experiences  of  this  kind, 
which  were  too  ludicrous  ever  to  escape  from  my  memory. 

Dr.  West  (his  soubriquet  was  Pater)  used  to  make  an  annual  journe)'',  on 
horseback,  to  Boston,  to  attend  the  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers, 
and  see  his  friends;  and  not  unfrequently  at  other  times  also;  and  on  one 
occasion,  when  he  had  arrived  at  a  certain  turn  of  the  road  in  Bridgewater, 
though  he  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the  whole  way,  he  rode  back  a  quarter- 
of  a  mile  to  inquire  at  a  house  which  was  the  road  to  Boston. 

In  those  days  it  was  the  custom  for  ministers,  when  travelling,  to  refreshi 
themselves  and  their  beasts  at  the  residences  of  such  of  their  brethren  as  lived 
on  their  route.  One  day,  while  I  was  living  with  Dr.  Sanger,  a  horse,  sad- 
dled and  bridled,  came  running  into  the  yard,  and  one  of  the  family  exclaimed: 
"  That  is  Dr.  West's  horse;  the  Doctor  must  be  on  tlie  road,  and  we  must  go- 
back  and  look  for  him."  One  or  two  of  the  boys,  accordingl}',  mounted  the- 
horse,  and  rode  towards  New  Bedford.  After  a  while,  they  saw  a  dark  object 
in  the  middle  of  the  sandy  road,  at  some  distance  beyond  them.  On  arriving- 
at  the  spot,  they  found  it  was  Dr.  West,  sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
apparently  in  deep  thought,  and  taking  no  notice  of  any  thing  about  him.. 
««  Why  Dr.  West,  is  this  you?"  was  the  inquiry — ««  how  came  you  here  in  the 
road?"  "Yes,  I  suppose  it  is  I;  and  I  believe  the  beast  has  thrown  me," 
was  the  reply.  He  was  assisted  on  to  the  horse,  and  conveyed  to  Dr.  Sanger's, 
where  he  staid,  as  was  his  wont  on  his  calls,  a  good  many  days,  exhibitin"-,, 
every  now  and  then,  his  fits  of  absence  of  mind,  to  the  no  small  amusement 
of  us  lads,  and  indeed  of  all  who  witnessed  them. 

It  might  have  been  on  this  visit  to  Boston  that  a  circumstance  occurred  that 
was  related  to  me  by  Dr.  Porter  of  Roxbury.  On  a  very  rainy  day,  one  of 
Dr.  P's  parishioners  came  in  and  told  him  that  there  was  an  elderly  gentleman, 
apparently  a  clergyman,  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  meeting-house,  and  he' 
thought  it  was  proper  for  him  to  inform  the  Doctor  of  it,  that,  if  he  saw  fit,, 
he  might  ascertain  who  he  was.  Dr.  Porter,  on  arriving  at  the  meeting-house, 
recognized  Dr.  West  as  the  minister  who  had  seated  himself  there,  and' 
expressed  no  small  surprise  at  finding  him  in  such  circumstances.  '<  Wliy,"" 
said  Dr.  West,  ««  I  have  a  controversy,  as  I  suppose  you  know,  with  another 
man  of  my  name  in  Stockbridge,  who  has  lately  sent  out  a  new  pamphlet,  andl 
I  have  come  down  here  to  consult  some  books;  and  having  got  as  far  as  here. 
Vol.  VIII.  4 


50  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

T  remembered  that  my  people  had  not  had  any  preaching  for  three  weeks,  and 
I  sat  down  here  to  think  the  matter  over,  whether  I  had  better  go  on  to  con- 
sult the  library  at  Cambridge,  or  go  home  to  New  Bedford."  You  can  just 
as  well  think  about  that  by  my  fireside,"  said  Dr.  Porter,  '<  and  had  better 
go  into  my  house  and  determine  it  there."  "  Well,  well,  so  I  had,  I  believe." 
So  in  he  went,  staid  there  some  days,  determined  to  go  to  Cambridge,  not- 
withstanding his  people  had  been  without  preaching  for  three  Sabbaths;  and 
when  he  got  back  to  resume  his  labours  among  them  I  never  learned. 

Now  that  I  have  a  cacoethes  scribendi,  you  must  allow  me  to  indulge  m3'self 
in  putting  down  a  few  more  incidents,  illustrative  of  the  peculiarities  of  one 
or  two  other  truly  excellent  and  respectable  ministers.  Dr.  Barnes  of  Scituate, 
a  little  man,  with  a  very  neat  white  whig,  was  called  to  officiate  at  the  Funeral 
of  a  female  who  had  no  near  friends  to  mourn  for  her,  except  one  young  man 
who  Avas  an  adopted  son;  and  he  began  his  prayer  on  this  wise — "  Strange 
kind  of  Funeral  this,  Lord,  very  strange!  No  father,  no  mother,  no  brother 
nor  sister!  There's  a  young  man"  (suiting  the  action  to  the  word)  "that 
calls  her  mother."  At  an  Ordination,  I  heard  him  commence  his  prayer 
thus: — "  Oh  Lord,  thou  knowest  that  it  is  ordination  day,  &c."  Dr.  Barnes 
was  a  man  of  deep  feeling,  however-,  as  is  evinced  by  his  most  pathetic  and 
beautiful  sermon  on  the  death  of  his  daughter. 

Dr.  John  Lathrop,  of  Boston,  related  to  me  the  following  anecdote  of  Dr. 
Samuel  Mather,  whom  he  knew  well,  being  a  member  of  the  same  Ministerial 
Association  with  him  for  many  years : — At  a  certain  meeting  of  the  Association, 
Dr.  Mather  talked  nearly  the  whole  time;  and,  when  the  members  were  about 
to  disperse,  the  Doctor  said  very  emphatically, — "  Well,  Brethren,  I  don't 
remember  that  I  ever  knew  a  pleasanter  meeting  of  the  Association  than  this." 
I  understood  the  anecdote  as  pointing  to  the  prominent  infirmity  in  Dr. 
Mather's  character. 

What  I  have  written  must  suffice  for  the  present,  and  I  will  only  add  that 

I  am  yours  affectionately, 

CHARLES  LOWELL. 


SAMUEL  WEST,  D.  D.* 

(OP    BOSTON.) 

1761—1808. 

Samuel  West  was  descended  from  Francis  West,  who  was  sent  to  this 
country  by  the  British  Government  with  a  commission  of  Vice  Admiral, 
shortly  after  the  settlement  at  Plymouth,  and  took  up  a  large  tract  of 
land  in  what  is  now  Duxbury.  He  returned  to  England  ;  but  his  son  came 
over  and  took  possession  of  the  land ;  and  from  him  all  the  Wests  in  New 
England  are  descended.  One  branch  of  the  family  settled  in  Martha's 
Vineyard.  Thomas  West,  of  the  fifth  generation  from  the  first,  was  the 
son  of  Abner  West,  and  the  father  of  Samuel,  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 
He  entered  Harvard  College  in  1726;  but,  in  consequence  of  a  matrimon- 
ial engagement,  left  College  at  the  end  of  two   years,  and  gave  up  the  idea 

•  Ms.  Autobiography. —  Biographical  Sketch  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Thachcr. 


SAMUEL    WEST.  51 

of  ever  entering  on  professional  life  ;  and  lie  did  not  receive  his  degree 
until  1759,  twentj-nine  years  after  the  graduation  of  his  class.  At  the 
age  of  about  thirty-five,  he  commenced  the  study  of  Divinity,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Rev.  Experience  Mayhevr,  the  well  known  missionary 
among  the  Indians  on  Martha's  Vineyard.  Soon  after  he  began  to  preach, 
h6  was  settled  as  colleague  of  Mr.  Mayhew,  in  which  situation  he  continued 
five  or  six  years,  and  then  accepted  an  invitation  to  take  charge  of  a  small 
parish,  known  as  the  third  parish  in  Rochester.  Here  he  spent  the  residue 
of  his  days,  and  died  in  the  year  1790.  In  his  religious  opinions  he  was, 
according  to  the  testimony  of  his  son,  a  decided  Calvinist. 

Samuel  West,  the  son  of  Thomas,  was  born  at  Martha's  Vineyard, 
November  19,  (0.  S.,)  1738,  and  spent  his  early  years  in  hard  labour. 
When  he  was  in  his  seventeenth  year,  he  commenced  the  study  of  the  Ian. 
guages,  under  the  tuition  of  his  father,  who  had  a  good  deal  to  do  in  order 
to  recover  his  own  knowledge  sufficiently  to  teach  him.  As  his  father  was 
poor,  and  found  it  somewhat  difficult  to  support  his  family,  he  did  not 
originally  design  to  give  him  a  collegiate  education  ;  but  such  was  his 
thirst  for  knowledge,  and  his  ability  to  acquire  it,  that  his  father  finally 
yielded  to  his  wish  to  go  to  College.  After  encountering  many  obsta- 
cles, during  a  preparatory  course  of  about  two  years,  he  was  well  fitted  to 
enter;  and  he  was  accordingly  admitted  a  member  of  Harvard  University, 
at  an  advanced  standing,  in  1758,  when  he  was  in  his  twentieth  year.  With 
the  aid  that  he  'received  from  his  father,  in  connection  with  some  favours 
granted  him  by  President  Holyoke,  and  the  avails  of  teaching  during  some 
of  his  vacations,  he  was  enabled  to  pass  through  College  without  much 
embarrassment  ;  and  he  graduated  with  high  honour  in  1761.  He  main, 
tained  uniformly  a  good  standing  in  all  liis  studies,  but  he  delighted  especially 
in  metaphysics  and  logic.  Ilis  health  suffered  not  a  little  from  excessive 
application  to  study  and  neglect  of  bodily  exercise  ;  and  nervous  complaints 
ensued,  which  occasioned  him  great  trouble  and  inccfnvenience  during  the 
rest  of  his  life. 

Mr.  West  had  his  eye  upon  the  ministry  from  the  time  that  he  began  to 
prepare  for  College  ;  and  he  seems  to  have  commenced  preaching  very  soon 
after  he  graduated.  The  Hon.  Thomas  Hubbard,  Commissary  of  the  Pro- 
vince, became  his  patron ;  and,  through  his  influence,  he  was  appointed 
Chaplain  to  the  garrison  of  Port  Pownal,  at  Penobscot.  Though  he  felt 
that  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  was  very  inadequate,  yet,  as  he  had 
a  few  sermons  written,  and  as  Dr..  Mayhew  lent  him  a  number  of  books,  and 
Mr.  Hubbard  promised  him  others,  and  as  he  had  really  been,  in  some  sense, 
a  student  of  Divinity  from  very  early  life,  he  determined,  though  with  great 
diffidence,  to  accept  the  appointment.  His  engagement  was  for  one  year, 
and  his  pay  was  four  pounds  a  month,  with  rations.  He,  accordingly, 
repaired  to  his  field  of  labour* in  November,  1T61  ;  and  found  himself  very 
agreeably  situated  in  the  family  of  Brigadier  General  Preble.  He  passed 
the  year  ver}'-  pleasantly  and  profitably, —  the  discharge  of  his  official  duties 
leaving  him  with  a  good  deal  of  leisure  to  prosecute  his  theological  studies  ; 
and,  as  this  was  subseqent  to  the  reduction  of  Canada,  they  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  the  hostilities  of  the  Indians.  The  term  for  which  he  engaged 
having  expired  in  September,  1762,  he  returned  to  visit  his  parents  ;  and, 


62  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

after  remaining  witli  them  a  sliort  time,  went  back  to  Falmouth,  in  the 
expectation  of  being  employed  by  a  parish  called  New  Cases,  whose  niin. 
ister  had  become  deranged.  After  preaching  there  ten  weeks,  he  left  that 
region  finally;  and  on  reaching  home,  found  his  mother  in  a  declining  state 
of  health,  from  which  time  he  remained  with  her  several  months,  until  she 
died. 

Mr.  West  now  went  to  Cambridge,  with  a  view  to  devote  more  time  to 
theological  studies.  During  his  residence  there,  he  preached  ,  frequently 
for  tlie  ministers  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  among  others  for  Dr.  Mayhew. 
Speaking  of  Dr.  Mayhew,  he  says, — "  Observing,  I  suppose,  my  forward- 
ness to  express  my  opinion  on  every  occasion,  he  advised  me  to  be  more 
cautious  and  reserved  ;  and  added  that,  had  he  been  more  reserved  at  the 
commencement  of  his  ministry,  he  might  not  only  have  escaped  much  cen- 
sure and  useless  disputation,  but  have  done  more  good  in  promoting  what 
he  supposed  to  be  the  truth.  He  thought  in  younger  life,  as  many  young 
jninds,  that  there  was  something  manly  and  noble  in  expressing  his  senti- 
ments freely  and  without  reserve,  and  that  it  implied  a  base  spirit  to  do 
otherwise;  but  time  and  experience  had  taught  him  the  wisdom  of  the 
Apostle's  advice, — 'Hast  thou  faith,  have  it  to  thyself.'" 

In  June,  1763,  he  was  invited  to  preach  as  a  candidate  at  Needham  ;  and, 
though  there  was  little  in  the  character  of  the  people  to  attract  hiu),  he 
accepted  an  invitation  to  settle  among  them  ;  partly  out  of  respect  to  his 
father's  advice,  and  partly  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  assist  a  brother  in 
obtaining  a  liberal  education.  His  salary  was  a  little  less  than  seventy-five 
pounds  a  year.  He  was  ordained  on  the  25th  of  April,  1764,  in  the 
twenty-sixth  year  of  his  age;  the  ceremony  being  performed  in  the  open 
air,  on  account  of  the  church  being  too  small  to  accommodate  the  conoreo-a- 
tion.  The  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  "West  of  Dartmouth, 
and  the  charge  was  delivered  by  liis  father.  The  people  treated  him  kindly, 
and  he  gradually  became  reconciled  to  the  less  agreeable  features  of  his 
condition. 

On  the  23d  of  February,  1769,  Mr.  West  was  married  to  a  Miss  Plimp- 
ton, of  Medfield.  They  had  four  children.  One  son  (^Samuel)  graduated 
at  Harvard  College,  in  1788;  another,  (Nathan  Plimpton,)  in  1792.  Both 
"Were  educated  entirely  at  his  own  expense.  As  his  salary  was  not  only 
small  but  very  poorly  paid,  he  was  obliged  to  make  up  the  deficiency, 
partly  by  labouring  on  a  small  farm,  and  partly  by  receiving  boys  into  his 
family  to  educate. 

In  the  year  1786,  his  people  were  induced  to  come  to  some  settlement 
with  him  for  arrearages  due  through  the  Revolutionary  War;  for  which,  in 
case  of  his  death,  they  were  liable  to  be  called  upon  by  his  heirs  ;  .and,  in 
order  to  provide  for  the  future,  he  proposed  to  them  that  he  would  relin- 
quish the  whole  amount,  on  condition  that  they  would  consent  to  his  leaving 
them  if  he  should,  at  any  tin)e,  desire  it.  They  agreed  to  the  proposal,  he 
making  a  sacrifice  of  one  hundred  pounds.  Shortly  after  this,  he  was 
invited  to  preach  in  Federal  Street  Church,  Boston,  with  reference  to  a 
settlement ;  and  his  people,  perceiving  that  there  was  a  call  in  prospect, 
met  and  remonstrated  against  his  removal ;  whereupon  he  consented  to 
waive  his  right  to  go,  on  condition  that  they  would  pay  two-thirds  of  the 


SAMUEL    WEST.  53 

arrearage  due  to  lum,  and  pay  Lis  salary  punctually  in  future.  About  the 
same  time,  he  was  invited  to  settle  at  Jamaica  Plain  ;  but  he  thought  that 
he  could  not  honourably  listen  to  the  proposal.  But  the  state  of  things  in 
his  parish  did  not  become  better — their  pecuniary  engagements  to  him 
remained  unfulfilled;  and  he  was  subjected  to  continual  suspense  and  vexa- 
tion. While  he  was  in  this  state  of  extreme  embarrassment,  he  received  a 
call  from  the  HoUis  Street  Church,  Boston,  as  successor  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Wight:  he  had  administered  the  communion  to  that  church  first  after  Dr. 
Byles  left  it  in  1776,  and  might  have  been  settled  there  at  that  time,  if  he 
would  have  given  any  encouragement  to  the  people  to  call  him.  As  he  had 
now  remained  with  his  people  two  years  after  the  arrearages  were  due,  and 
nothing  had  been  paid,  he  felt  himself  fully  at  liberty  to  consider  the  call 
from  Ilollis  Street;  but  the  matter  produced  great  disquietude  in  the 
parish,  insomuch  that  Mr.  West  was  actually  on  the  point  of  returning  a 
negative  answer.  On  mature  reflection,  however,  and  in  accordance  with 
the  advice  of  his  father,  he  accepted  the  call,  (November  16,  1788,)  having 
previously  spent  a  few  Sabbaths  with  the  congregation  to  which  he  was 
called.  When  he  returned  to  Needliam  for  his  family,  he  was  received 
with  great  coolness.  He  dispensed  with  the  usual  furmality  of  having  a 
council  to  dissolve  the  relation  between  him  and  his  people,  on  the  ground 
that  he  considered  it  as  a  mere  social  contract,  and  not  more  sacred  than 
any  oilier.  This  was  regarded  by  many  of  his  brethren  as  a  censurable 
irregularity.  After  his  settlement,  in  ]3o>toii,  the  unkind  feelings  which  had 
existed  among  his  former  charge  gradually  died  away,  and,  as  he  met  indi- 
viduals among  them,  from  time  to  time,  he  manifested  nothing  towards 
them  but  good-will,  and  thus,  at  no  distant  period,  succeeded  in  recovering 
hisplace  in  their  affections. 

His  Installation  at  Boston  took  place  on  the  12th  of  !March,  17  89,  the 
Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  himself,  from  2  Cor.  iv,  1.  In 
this  new  field  of  labour,  being  exempt  from  all  pecuniary  embarrassments, 
in  consequence  of  having  an  adequate  salary,  he  laboured  with  great  dili- 
gence, and  quickly  won  the  affocliuns  of  his  ehaige.  A  large  part  of  his 
time  he  spent  in  visiting  them   in  their  own  houses. 

He  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  from  Dartmouth 
College,  in  1798. 

In  the  summer  of  1801,  Ids  constitution  suffered  a  severe  shock  from 
violent  spasms  of  nervous  colic.  After  a  few  weeks,  however,  he  began 
gradually  to  recover,  and  about  the  middle  of  October  was  able  to  return 
to  his  pulpit;  though  he  was  henceforward  unable  to  preach  more  than 
half  of  the  time.  In  September,  1803,  he  intimated  to  his  people  a  wish 
for  assistance  in  his  public  services,  leaving  it  to  them  to  decide  in  respect 
to  his  support.  They  acted  in  accordance  with  his  suggestion  ;  and,  from 
that  time,  he  preached  but  seldom,  until,  at  length,  he  ceased  preaching 
altogether.  In  August,  1805,  he  made  a  journey  to  Charlestown,  N.  II., 
the  residence  of  his  brother  ;  but  he  was  so  feeble  that  it  was  not  without 
difficulty  that  he  accomplished  it.  From  that  time  he  withdrew  entirely  from 
all  public  labour,  though  his  active  mind  was  constantly  finding  employment 
at  home.  Even  after  he  was  confined  to  his  bed,  he  dictated  to  an  amanuensis 
an  autobiography  of  great-  interest.     He  furnished  also  to  the  Boston  Cen. 


54  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tiriel  a  series  of  articles,  over  the  signature  of  "  The  Old  Man,"  which 
attracted  very  considerable  attention.  When  he  was  near  the  close. of  life, 
he  dictated  several  letters  to  friends  in  affliction,  full  of  affectionate  coun- 
sels, and  expressive  of  the  tenderest  sympathy.  At  length,  after  a  con- 
finement to  his  bed  of  twenty-six  weeks,  he  expired  on  the  10th  of 
April,  1808,  with  the  confident  expectation  of  entering  into  rest.  Hia 
Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  his  friend,  Dr.  John  Lathrop,  from  2 
Timothy,  i,  12.  It  was  afterwards  published  in  connection  with  a  biograph- 
ical sketch  from  the  pen  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Thacher  of  Dcdham. 
The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  West's  printed  Discourses: 
A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Jonathan  Newell*,  1774.  A 
Sermon  delivered  in  the  Second  Church,  Dedham,  on  occasion  of  the  Death 
of  two  young  men,  1785.  Two  Discourses  delivered  on  the  day  of  the 
Public  Fast,  1785.  A  Sermon  delivered  on  the  day  of  the  General  Elec- 
tion, 1786.  A  Sermon  preached  at  his  Instalment  in  Boston,  1789.  A 
Sermon  preached  on  occasion  of  the  Artillery  Election,  1794.  A  Sermon 
preached  on  occasion  of  the  National  Thanksgiving,  1795.  A  Sermon 
occasioned  by  the  Death  of  George  Washington,  1799. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  March  3,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  Doctor  Samuel  West  of  Boston  was,  for  a  number  of  years, 
my  contemporary  and  neighbour  in  the  ministry;  and  we  were  both  members 
of  the  same  Association.  I  knew  him  quite  intimatel}'',  and  retain  to  this  day 
a  vivid  recollection  of  his  personal  appearance,  as  well  as  of  his  intellectual 
and  moral  qualities. 

Dr.  West's  native  powers  of  mind  were  much  above  mediocrity;  but  they 
were  rather  solid  than  brilliant.  lie  was  discriminating,  accurate,  patient  in 
investigation;  and  his  mind  was  not  accustomed  to  repose  in  results  which 
had  been  reached  with  little  thought  and  care.  He  was  a  most  diligent  student, 
not  only  while  he  was  in  College,  but  ever  after;  and  yet  study  with  him  par- 
took more  of  reflection  than  reading,  for  he  thought  that  books  were  some- 
times rather  a  hindrance  than  a  help  to  intellectual  culture.  He  was  a  fine 
classical  scholar,  and  was  distinguished  for  his  fidelity  and  success  in  fitting 
students  for  College.  His  temper,  as  he  has  been  heard  to  say,  was  naturally 
irritable  in  the  extreme;  but  he  had  so  completely  mastered  it  that  there  was 
nothing  visible  to  indicate  that  he  was  not  as  gentle  as  a  lamb.  He  never 
rendered  evil  for  evil  —  if  he  was  the  subject  of  injury,  a  forgiving  spirit 
seemed  to  come  spontaneously  into  exercise.  He  was  evidently  a  well-wisher 
to  all;  and  he  endeavoured  to  do  good  to  all  according  to  his  ability.  His 
manners  were  simple  and  unpretending,  and  no  one  could  feel  a  painful 
restraint  in  his  presence. 

Dr.  West's  habit  of  preaching  differed,  in  his  latter  years,  from  that  of  most 
of  his  brethren  around  him.  In  the  former  part  of  his  ministry,  be  was 
accustomed  to  write  his  sermons  fully  out,  and  read  them  from  the  pulpit; 
but,  about  1775,  his  circumstances  became  so  much  straitened  as  to  forbid 
his  taking  the  time  for  sucli  mature  preparation,  and  he  commenced  preaching 
without  notes.     His  people  very  soon  expressed  their  preference  for  that  mode 

•  Jonathan  Newkll  was  a  native  of  Needham,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College 
in  1770;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Stow,  October  11,  1774;  and  died  October  4, 
1830,  aged  eighty-one  years.     Uo  was  buried,  by  bis  own  express  orders,  as  a  private  citizen. 


HENRY    CUMMINGS.  55 

of  preaching,  and  on  that  account  he  continued  it.  After  he  removed  to  Boston, 
it  was  his  invariable  custom  to  compose  his  sermons,  even  to  the  whole  of  the 
language,  and,  without  committing  one  word  to  writing,  to  deliver  them  mcin- 
oritcr.  His  preaching  was  characterized  by  good  sense  and  felicitous  arrange- 
ment of  thought,  but  he  had  little  animation  or  pathos,  and  of  course  was  not 
distinguished  for  awakening  emotion  in  others. 

He  was  educated  not  onl}^  a  Trinitarian  but  a  Calvinist.  He  abjured  his 
Calvinism  at  an  early  period,  but  what  his  particular  views  of  the  Trinity 
were,  I  cannot  say  with  confidence;  though  he  always  ranked  with  the  liberal 
party.  He  was  also  a  decided  Restorationist.  Witness  the  following  extract 
from  his  autobiography  —  "  The  linal  cause  or  ultimate  design  of  all  the  laws 
by  which  God  governs  the  system  of  nature,  is  the  happiness  of  his  crea- 
tures; and  if  individual  evil  is  produced  by  the  uniform  operation  of  those 
laws,  it  is  and  must  be  conducive  to  the  good  of  the  whole.  Nay,  I  am  per- 
suaded that  the  sufferings  of  every  individual  will  eventually  conduce  to  the 
advancement  of  its  happiness,  and  that  tlie  greatest  sufferings,  and  those  which 
endure  the  longest,  are  designed,  and  will  in  the  end  terminate  in  proportion- 
ate happiness." 

Dr.  West  always  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  political  concerns  of  the  country; 
but  never  -subjected  himself  to  the  censure  of  being  an  acrimonious  or  even 
an  earnest  politician.  During  the  Revolutionary  struggle,  though  he  was 
a  sincere  well-wisher  to  his  country's  liberties,  he  still  kept  up  a  friendly 
intercourse  with  those  who  were  known  as  loyalists;  while  yet  he  rendered 
every  good  service  to  the  existing  government  Avhich  could  be  reasonably 
expected  of  him.  In  the  political  conflicts  of  later  days,  while  he  could  not 
be  charged  with  any  thing  like  a  timeserving  neutralit}^,  he  still  mingled  so 
much  prudence  with  his  decision,  that  he  had  the  confidence  of  those  who 
differed  from  each  other,  and  died,  as  it  is  believed,  without  a  political  enemy. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  Yours  truly, 

JOHN  PIERCE. 


HENRY  CUMMINGS,  D.  D.^ 

1761—1823. 

Henry  CuxAIMINGS  was  born  in  Tyngsboro',  Middlesex  County,  Mass., 
September  25,  1737.  While  he  was  yet  in  his  infancy,  hia  parents 
removed  to  Hollis,  N.  H.,  where  he  passed  nearly  all  his  youtliful  days. 
His  father,  who  was  in  moderate  worldly  circumstances,  but  a  man  of 
excellent  character,  died  when  this  son  was  about  eight  years  old,  leaving 
a  family  of  several  children,  of  wliom  Henry  was  the  eldest.  His  mother 
was  distinguished  for  earnest,  active  piety,  and  remarkable  strength  of 
character.  She  was  greatly  devoted  to  the  interests  of  her  cliildren,  and 
accounted  no  sacrifice  great  that  might  subserve  their  temporal,  and  espe- 
cially their  spiritual,  interests.  A  few  years  after  the  death  of  her  hus- 
band, a  gentleman  made  proposals  of  marriage  to  her,  which  she  accepted,. 
and  the  arrangements  for  the  contemplated  connection  were  nearly  com- 
pleted.     But,  for  some   unknown  cause,   the   engagement  was   suddenly 

*  Dr.  Cummings'  Half-Cent.  Serm. — Sermon  on  his  death,  by  Rev.  Wilkes  Allen.  Ms.. 
from  Rev.  N.  Whitman. 


OD  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

broken  ;  and  it  was  not  until  her  son  had  Leen  in  the  ministry  several  years 
that  she  explained  the  matter  to  him.  She  stated  that,  in  the  la.^t  inter- 
view which  she  had  with  the  gentleman,  prcviuus  to  the  time  of  her  expected 
marriage,  he  intimated  to  her  that  he  did  not  expect  that  ishe  wouhl  bring 
lier  children  with  her  to  her  new  home,  and  asked  how  she  intended  to 
dispose  of  them.  She  promptly  replied, — "  If  you  do  not  take  my  chil- 
dren, you  do  not  take  me — I  have  a  duty  to  perform  towards  them,  and, 
by  God's  aid,  I  shall  perform  it ;"  and  immediately  gave  him  leave  to 
retire.  Such  was  the  affectionate  veneration  with  which  lier  children 
regarded  her,  that  they  went  annually  together  to  visit  her  as  long  as  she 
lived.  On  one  of  these  anniversary  visits,  when  she  was  far  advanced  in 
life,  and  the  Doctor  himself  was  about  sixty  years  old,  he  said  he  observed 
her  shedding  tears  ;  and,  before  he  left  her,  he  ventured  to  inquire  of  her 
the  cause.  Her  answer  was, — "As  I  looked  round  upon  my  children, 
whom  I  must  soon  leave,  I  thought  how  awful  it  would  be  if  any  of  them 
should  fail  of  meeting  me  in  the  Heavenly  world." 

The  subject  of  this  notice  gave  early  indications  of  aib  uncommonly 
vigorous  mind,  and  attracted  the  attention  of  his  minister,  the  Rev.  Daniel 
Emerson,*  as  a^youth  of  so  much  promise  as  to  justify  some  extraordinary 
efforts  to  give  him  a  collegiate  education.  Accordingly,  he  volunteered  to 
superintend  his  course  of  study  preparatory  to  entering  College.  In  1756, 
he  entered  at  Cambridge,  and,  having  maintained  through  his  whole  course 
a  high  standing  for  both  scholarship  and  moral  conduct,  graduated  in  1760. 

Having  completed  his  collegiate  course,  he  accepted  an  invitation  from 
a  gentleman  in  Boston  to  reside  in  his  family  and  prosecute  his  theolo- 
gical studies.  Before  he  had  been  there  many  months,  he  was,  contrary 
to  his  own  judgment  and  wishes,  introduced  into  the  pulpit.  Mr.  Checkley, 
the  minister  of  the  Old  North  Church,  being  unwell,  earnestly  requested 
him  to  take  his  place  for  a  single  Sabbath;  and  he  reluctantly  consented 
to  do  so,  but  whether  with  or  without  a  regular  license  does  not  appear. 
Mr.  Checkley  continuing  ill  for  some  time,  Mr.  Cummings  continued  his  Sab- 
bath-day services  ;  and  that,  notwithstanding  he  had  scarcely  any  pre- 
vious preparations  for  the  pulpit.  From  the  commencement  of  his  public 
labours,  he  attracted  very  considerable  attention,  and  was  regarded  as  one 
of  the  most  promising  young  preachers  of  the  day. 

In  the  autumn  of  1762,  Mr.  Cummings  was  employed  to  preach  as  a 
candidate  at  Billeriea  ;  and,  on  the  18th  of  November,  received  a  united 
call  from  the  church  and  the  town  to  become  their  Pastor.  He  accepted 
the  call,  and  was  ordained  and  installed,  January  26,  1763.  Tlie  Sermon 
on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  his  friend  and  benefactor,  the  Eev.  Daniel 
Emerson,  from  Hebrews  xiii.  17.  Even  at  the  time  of  his  settlement,  he 
regarded  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  as  altogether  inadequate  ;  and 
he  has  been  heard  to  say,  more  than  once,  that  he  entered  on  his  profes- 
sion, and  then  fitted  for  it.  He  devoted  himself  to  his  studies  with  great 
assi  luity,  and  became   a   proficient  especially  in  the    Hebrew  language, 

•  Daniel  Emerson  was  born  in  Reading,  Mass.,  May  17,  1716;  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College  in  1739;  was  ordained  at  Hollis,  N.  H.,  April  20,  1743;  received  Eli  Smith  as 
his  collcnguo,  November  27,  17U3;  and  died  on  the  30th  of  September,  1801,  aged  eighty- 
■fiye  years,  greatly  beloved  and  honoured. 


HENRY    CUMMINGS.  *  57 

whleli  he  coulJ  not  only  read  with  fluency,  but  write  with  considerable 
ease. 

During  the  Revolution,  Mr.  Cummings  showed  himself  an  earnest  friend 
of  his  country's  Independence.  Fully  convinced  that  the  cause  of  the 
Colonies  was  a  righteous  cause,  and  that  it  was  the  duty  of  every  man, 
whatever  might  be  his  profession  or  relations,  to  aid  it  to  the  extent  of  his 
ability,  he  laboured,  both  in  the  pulpit  and  out  of  it,  to  diffuse  the  patri- 
otic spirit,  and  strengthen  the  hands  of  those  on  whom  the  direction  of  the 
public  concerns  more  immediately  devolved.  In  1783,  the  memorable 
year  that  witnessed  the  close  of  the  War,  he  preached  the  Annual  Sermon 
before  the  Legislature, — a  sermon  characterized  by  the  most  enlightened, 
patriotic  views.  The  town  of  Billerica  testified  their  high  appreciation  of 
his  knowledge  and  good  judgment  in  civil  matters,  by  appointing  him  a 
delegate  to  the  Convention  which  framed  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts. 

Not  long  after  his  settlement  at  Billerica,  he  was  consulted  in  regard 
to  a  removal  to  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respectable  churches  in  Boston, 
and  was  assured  that  a  call  would  be  made  out  for  him  at  once,  if  he  would 
give  any  encouragement  that  he  would  accept  it.  lie,  however,  rejected 
the  overture  without  hesitation  ;  it  being  a  fixed  principle  witli  him  that 
a  minister  has  no  right  to  leave  his  charge  as  long  as  his  people  are  at 
peace  and  his  usefulness  is  undiminished. 

In  the  year  1795,  he  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Conven- 
tion of  Ministers  in  Massachusetts,  and  the  same  year  delivered  the  Dud- 
leian  Lecture  in  Harvard  College.  In  1800,  his  Alma  Mater  conferred 
upon  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity, 

In  February,  1813,  on  the  completion  of  Half  a  Century  from  the  time 
of  his  settlement,  he  preached  a  Sermon  in  which  he  briefly  reviewed  his 
ministry,  and  intimated  a  wish  to  retire  from  the  active  duties  of  his  oflice. 
That  Sermon,  which  was  published,  contains  the  following  paragraphs: — 

"  Conscious  I  am  of  many  imperfections  and  deficiencies  in  tlie  prosecution  of  the 
Racved  office,  in  which  I  have  been  engaged,  and  fe  1  that  I  liave  stood  in  need  not  only 
of  the  candour  of  the  Christian  people  over  wjioin  the  Holy  Ghost  liath  made  nie  aa 
overseer,  biit  much  more  of  the  pardoning  mercy  of  God,  of  wliich  I  entertain  good 
hopes,  tlirougii  tliat  blood  of  atonement  which  is  not  only  necessary  but  sufficient  both 
for  the  priesthood  and  the  people. 

"  But,  though  conscious  of  many  failures,  I  have  the  satisfaction  of  reflecting  that  I 
have  sincerely  endeavoured  to  declare  tlie  whole  counsel  of  God,  and  have  not  design- 
edly withheld  any  thing  that  I  believed  to  be  of  importance,  to  promote  the  conviction 
and  conversion  of  sinners,  and  the  edification  of  saints  in  faith  and  holiness.  And 
while  I  am  consoled  with  this  pleasing  reflection,  I  can.  with  the  most  assured  confi- 
dence, appeal  to  all  who  have  so  regularly  and  diligently  attended  on  my  ministry  as 
to  be  acquainted  with  my  general  tenor  and  mode  of  preaching,  to  witness  for  me, 
that,  while  I  have  seriously  endeavoured  to  guard  people  against  the  ensnaring  and 
delusive  sophistry  of  unprincipled  libertines,  infidels  and  skeptics  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  wild  vagaries  of  blind  enthusiasm,  and  the  baneful  influence  of  unenlightened  jiarty 
zeal  on  the  other;  I  have  also  endeavoured  to  explain,  inculcate,  and  enforce  the  pecu- 
liar doctrines  of  our  holy  religion;  and  to  this  end,  in  conformity  to  my  obligations  as 
a  Christian  minister,  have  made  it  my  principal  business,  agreeably  to  the  Gospel 
revelation,  to  lead  my  hearers  into  a  just  and  true  acquaintance  with  the  glorious 
cliaracter  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God;  with  his  incarnation  and  the 
merciful  design  of  his  advent  into  the  world;  with  his  noble  and  salutary  doctrines 
and  the  miracles  He  wrought  in  confirmation  of  his  Divine  mission;  with  liis  heavenly 
example  and  the  nature,  laws,  institutions  and  ordinances  of  that  kingdom  of  God 
which  is  committed  to  his  administration;  and  with  his  voluntary  humiliation  and 
death,  wlien  He  made  his  soul  an  oflfiMing  for  sin;  and  also  to  establish  people's  faith 
in  his  resurrection,  ascension  and  merciful  intercession,  in  the  High  Court  of  Heaven, 


58  '  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

and  ill  liis  second  appearing  to  judge  the  world,  at  an  appointed  period,  every  moment 
a))proacliing,  when  Ihe  dead  shall  be  raised  and  pass  into  a  state  of  final  retribution, 
that  every  one  may  receive  according  to  his  deeds  done  in  tlie  body." 

In  January,  1814,  the  Rev.  Natlianiel  Whitman  was  ordained,  and 
installed  as  Colleague  Pastor  of  the  church.  Though  Dr,  Cummings  occa- 
sionally preaclicd  after  this,  yet  he  preferred,  for  the  most  part,  to  be  a 
silent  worshipper  in  the  sanctuary.  He  divested  himself  also,  in  a  great 
measure,  of  all  worldly  cares,  and,  for  several  months  previous  to  his  death, 
he  devolved  the  business  even  of  providing  for  his  family,  in  a  great  meas- 
ure, upon  his  grand-daughters,  who  lived  with  him,  and  ministered  to  his 
wants  with  the  utmost  reverence  and  tenderness.  He  had  naturally  an 
athletic  and  vigorous  constitution,  and  he  accustomed  himself  to  the  fre- 
quent exertion  of  his  physical  faculties,  almost  as  long  as  he  lived.  But 
old  age  gradually  made  its  inroads  upon  him,  and,  for  a  few  of  his  last 
months,  his  decline  became  more  rapid.  He  died  in  the  utmost  calmness, 
on  the  5th  of  September,  1823.  A  Sermon  was  preached  at  his  Funeral 
by  the  Rev.  Wilkes  Allen,*  of  Chelmsford,  from  2  Samuel  iii,  38.  "A 
great  man  is  fallen  this  day  in  Israel."      It  was  published. 

Dr.  Cummings  was  married,  May  19.  1763,  to  Ann  Lambert,  of  South 
Reading.  Slie  died  January  5,  1784.  Ho  was  married  November  14,  1788, 
to  Margaret  Briggs.  who  died  June  2,  1790.  He  was  married  September 
20.  1791  to  Sarah,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Bridge,!  of  Clielmsford, 
and  the  eldest  of  thirteen  children.  She  died  February  25,  1812.  He 
had  five  children,  all  by  the  first  marriage. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Cummings'  publications  : — 

A  Sermon  preached  on  the  day  of  Public  Thanksgiving,  1766.  A  Ser- 
mon preached  on  the  day  of  Public  Thanksgiving,  1775.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  Lexington  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Commencement  of  Hos- 
tilities, 1781.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  General  Election,  1783.  A 
Sermon  preached  on  the  day  of  National  Thanksgiving,  1783.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Phineas  Wright, t  1785.  A  Discourse  on 
Natural  Religion.  1795.  A  Sermon  preached  on  Thanksgiving  day,  1796. 
A  Sermon  preached  on  Thanksgiving  day,  1798.  Right  Hand  of  Fellow- 
ship to  Elijah  Dunbar,^  1799.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  Falmouth  at  the 
Ordination  of  Caleb  Bradley,  1799.  Eulogy  on  the  late  Patriot,  George 
Washington,  1800.  A  Sermon  preached  on  the  Public  Fast,  1801.  A 
Charity  Sermon  preached  at  Roxbury,  1802.  Charge  given  to  Wilkes 
Allen,  1803.  A  Half  Century  Sermon  preached  at  Billerica,  1818. 
Charge  given  to  Nathaniel  Whitman,  1814. 

*  Wilkes  Allex  was  born  in  Sterling,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1801; 
■was  ordained  Pastor  of  a  church  in  Chelmsford  November  16,  1803;  and  died  in  1845.  He 
publiffhed  a  Thanksgiving  Discourse  entitled  "  Divine  favours  gratefully  recollected,"  1810; 
and  a  History  of  Chelmsford,  Mass.,  to  which  is  added  a  Memoir  of  the  Pawtucket  tribe  of 
Indians,  1820. 

f  Ebenezeu  Bridge  was  born  in  Boston;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1736;  was 
ordained  minister  of  Chelmsford,  May  20,  1741 ;  and  died  in  October,  17'J2,  aged  seventy-eight. 
He  published  the  Massachusetts  Artillery  Election  Sermon,  1752;  and  the  Massachusetts 
Election  Sermon,  1767. 

X  Phineas  Wright  was  a  native  of  Wcstford,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1772;  was  ordained  at  Bolton,  Mass.,  on  the  26th  of  October,  1785;  and  died  on  the  26th  of 
December,  1802,  aged  fifty-eight. 

§  Elijah  Dunuar  was  born  at  Staughton,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1794;  was  a  Tutor  in  Williams  College  from  1794  to  1796;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Church 
at  Peterborough,  N.  H.,  October  23,  1799;  was  dismissed  Juno  27j  1827;  and  died  in  1850. 


HENRY    CUMMINGS.  *  59 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  RICHARDSON. 

IliNGH.\M,  October  24,  1862. 
My  dear  Sir:  My  parents  were  members  of  the  parisli  of  which  Dr.  Henry 
Cuiumiiigs  was  Pastor.  I  was  baptized  by  him  in  my  infancy;  grew  up  under 
his  ministry;  and,  occasionally,  in  the  public  school,  recited  to  him  the  Assem- 
bly's Catechism.  It  was  under  his  influence,  chielly,  that  my  early  oi>inii)nson 
moral  and  religious  subjects  were  formed,  and,  aflei-  my  graduation  at  College, 
I  pursued  my  theological  studies  under  his  direction.  On  account  of  the  con- 
tracted accommodations  fuinishcd  in  his  house,  I  studied  chiefly  in  a  part  of 
his  garret.  But  it  mattered  little  as  to  the  place,  so  long  as  1  could  have  the 
privilege  of  listening  to  his  wise  and  weighty  instruction.  So  long  as  he 
lived,  I  knew  him  intimately.  I  mourned  his  death  almost  as  if  it  had  been 
the  death  of  a  father. 

Dr.  Cummings  was  a  fine  specimen  of  physical,  mental  and  moral  nobility. 
His  frame  was  large  and  well  propoitioned.  His  countenance  evinced  a  high 
order  of  intelligence  and  dignity.  His  air  and  manner  assured  you  that  you 
were  in  the  company  of  no  ordinary  man.  His  fine  social  qualities  rendered 
him  a  most  agreeable  companion.  His  sympathy  ar.d  kindness  he  did  not  with- 
hold even  from  the  most  unwoithy.  His  public  discourses  were  chaiacterized 
by  great  boldness  of  style,  and  were  delivered  with  a  voice  of  very  considera- 
ble power.  My  impression  is  that  he  had  not  a  correct  ear  for  music;  but  he 
deliglited  in  the  inspiring  thoughts  of  the  best  poets,  ancient  and  modern.  No 
matter  what  subject  might  engage  his  attention,  the  movements  of  his  mind 
were  always  sure,  strong,  and  every  way  well  adapted. 

In  his  theological  views  he  was  an  Arminian,  and  I  suppose  an  Arian  also; 
though  he  seldom  dwelt  much  on  points  of  controversy  in  the  pulpit.  I  think  he 
had  no  sympathy  with  any  system  that  does  not  recognize  the  mediation  of 
Christ  as  the  grand  feature  of  the  Christian  economy.  He  exercised  great  kind- 
liness of  feeling  towards  those  commonly  called  oi-thodox,  and  was  on  terms 
of  exchange  with  a  number  of  them  till  near  the  close  of  his  active  ministry. 

Of  the  extent  of  his  influence  in  the  Church  at  large  some  idea  may  bo 
formed  from  the  fact  that  he  was  a  member  and  modeiator  of  a  greater  num- 
ber of  ecclesiastical  councils  than  perhaps  any  other  minister  of  his  da}'.  He 
was  an  earnest  patriot,  and  zealousl}'  devoted  to  the  cause  of  the  American 
Revolution,  and  of  our  National  Independence  and  Union. 

It  may  be  mentioned,  as  an  evidence  of  the  high  attainments  and  character 
of  Dr.  Cummings,  that,  previous  to  the  election  of  Dr.  Willard  to  the  Presi- 
dency of  Harvard  College,  he  had  been  named  by  a  number  of  influential 
individuals  as  a  candidate  for  that  oflice;  but  he  respectfully  declined  the 
nomination. 

Please  to  accept  the  assurance  of  my  great  respect. 

JOSEPH  RICHARDSON. 


FROM  THE  REV.  ARIEL  ABBOT,  D.  D. 

Peterborough,  N.  II.,  September  16,  1857. 
•  My  dear  Sir :  You  ask  me  to  tell  you  what  I  remember  concerning  the  late 
Dr.  Cummings  of  Billerica.  My  recollection  of  him  goes  back  to  the  time 
when  I  was  fitting  for  College  at  the  Andover  Academy;  but  I  do  not  remem- 
ber to  have  had  any  personal  intercourse  Avith  him  till  after  I  had  commenced 
preaching.  In  my  journeys  from  Coventry  to  the  Eastern  part  of  Massachu- 
setts, where  many  of  my  relatives  resided,  I  frequently  passed  through  Bille- 
rica, and.  whenever  it  was  convenient,  called  upon  Dr.  Cummings,  and  never 
failed  to  be  interested  and  gratified  by  his  conversation. 


60  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Ho  was,  in  his  personal  appearance,  rather  unusually  commanding.  He 
was  large,  well  proportioned  and  athletic,  and  there  was  an  air  of  conscious 
strength  and  independence  about  him  that  was  little  fitted  to  invite  an  assault. 
And  his  mind  was  in  keeping  with  his  body, —  prolific  of  strong,  bold  thoughts, 
and  ready  for  anj'  enterprise  that  required  energy  of  purpose  or  of  action.  He 
was  understood  to  be  an  able  mathematician.  You  could  not  see  him,  whether 
in  the  pulpit  or  out  of  it,  without  getting  the  impression  that  he  was  a  man 
of  might; — that  he  was  formed  to  exert  a  powerful  influence  over  his  fellow 
men. 

I  cannot  say  much  of  him  as  a  Preacher  from  actual  knowledge,  my  oppor- 
tunities for  hearing  him  having  been  very  limited,  but  I  am  safe  in  saying  that 
his  pulpit  performances  were  much  above  the  average  standard  of  his  day. 
His  manner  was  simple,  earnest  and  effective.  His  sermons  were  generally 
practical  but  argumentative,  nor  did  he  hesitate  at  all,  on  what  he  deemed 
suitable  occasions,  to  state  clearly  his  views  of  Christian  doctrine.  Some  of 
his  published  sermons  bear  marks  of  a  mind,  trained  not  only  to  vigorous  but 
profound  thought.  In  his  religious  opinions  he  was  decidedly  an  Arminian, 
and,  as  I  have  always  understood,  an  Arian.  He  regarded  Calvinism,  in  all 
its  forms,  with  no  inconsiderable  aversion.  I  remember  to  have  heard  him 
speak  of  Edwards'  Treatise  on  the  Will,  as  being,  in  his  opinion,  nothing 
better  than  fatalism;  and  he  added,  with  his  characteristic  earnestness,  that, 
if  he  were  an  Atheist,  he  should  want  no  better  arguments  than  that  work 
supplied,  to  sustain  his  atheistical  theory. 

He  was  not  only  very  agreeable  and  instructive  in  ordinary  intercourse,  but 
was  sometimes  very  happy  in  giving  direction  to  the  depressed  and  per- 
plexed. A  Deacon  Abbot,  who  belonged  to  his  Society,  was  subject  to  great 
depression  of  mind,  and  was  sometimes  ready  to  despair  in  respect  to  his 
spiritual  state.  On  one  of  these  occasions.  Dr.  Cummings  visited  him,  and, 
after  hearing  the  story  of  his  doubts  and  anxieties,  said  to  him, —  "You 
believe  that  God  will  deal  with  you  in  a  manner  that  is  right  and  fitting, —  do 
you  not?"  "  Well,  if  you  are  to  be  cast  off,  as  you  insist  that  you  shall  be, 
you  must  have  your  portion  among  those  who  hate  and  blaspheme  God  — 
now,  you  surely  could  not  be  at  home  among  those  wicked  beings  —  the  com- 
pany which  you  would  relish  most,  would  be  that  of  the  wise  and  good, — 
those  who  love  and  reverence  and  obej"-  God."  To  this  the  man  could  not  but 
assent.  "  Then,"  said  Dr.  Cummings,  "  you  may  rest  assured  that  you  are' 
not  fit  for  the  foimer  company, —  that  j'ou  are  fit  for  the  latter;  and  God  is 
too  wise  and  good  not  to  put  j^ou  in  tlie  right  place."  This  mode  of  reasoning 
afforded  to  the  man  at  least  a  temporary  relief. 

Among  the  pleasant  anecdotes  which  I  heard  him  relate  was  the  following: — 
In  a  neighbouring  parish  a  minister  had  received  an  invitation  to  settle,  who 
was  known  to  be  a  somewhat  zealous  Hopkinsian.  A  member  of  the  parish, 
who  supposed  himself  an  old-Oxshioned  Calvinist,  called  on  Dr.  Cummings  to 
express  his  dissatisfaction  with  the  minister  whom  the  parish  had  chosen.  "  I 
am  a  Calvinist,"  said  he,  "  but  this  Ilopkinsianism  I  cannot  endure;"  and 
then  went  on  to  state  several  things  which  he  considered  included  in  it.  Dr. 
Cummings  immediately  took  down  from  his  lil)rary  a  book  containing  the 
doctrines  of  the  Arminian  school,  on  the  several  points  to  which  he  had  refer- 
red, and  read  them  to  him,  and  the  man  exclaimed  with  great  apparent  satis- 
faction, that  "  those  were  liis  views  exactly."  He  then  took  down  another 
book,  and  read  from  it  the  peculiar  views  of  Calvin  on  the  same  points,  and 
his  visitor  declared  that  tliat  was  .the  very  system  Avhicli  their  Hopkinsian 
minister  was  preaching  to  tliem.  The  Doctor  then,  in  a  good  natured  way, 
revealed  to  tlie  man  the  secret  that  he  M^as  an  Arminian. 

Dr.  Cumming's  influence  was  felt  on  society  at  large,  and  perhaps  nowhere 


HENRY    CUMMINGS.  61 

more  than  in  ecclesiastical  councils.  And  this  reminds  me  of  another  anec 
dote  that  may  serve  to  illustrate  some  traits  of  his  character.  A  council  was 
called  to  ordain  the  Rev.  Mr.  Raynolds  at  Wilmington.  Mr.  R.  had  studied 
under  Dr.  Backus  of  Somers,  and  seems  to  have  been  more  of  a  Ilopkiusian 
than  his  instructor.  The  council  called  to  ordain  him  consisted  chiefly  of 
ministers  in  the  neighbourhood,  a  majority  of  whom  were  probably  Armiuians, 
and  they  were  so  little  satisfied  with  the  examination  of  the  candidate,  and 
Avithal  there  was  so  little  unanimity  in  the  Society,  that  they  voted  not  to 
proceed  with  the  ordination.  The  church,  still  determined  on  having  him 
settled,  voted  to  retain  the  former  council,  but  to  add  to  it  a  sufficient  number 
of  the  stricter  party  to  secure  the  preponderance  on  that  side.  Several  of  tlie 
Arminian  bretliren,  and  among  them  Dr.  Cummings,  refused  to  attend.  Dr. 
Backus,  who  preached  on  the  occasion,  found  it  convenient,  on  his  second 
journey  to  Wilmington,  to  call  and  pass  the  night  with  Dr.  Cummings.  ITo 
found  him  very  hospitable  and  agreeable,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  evening, 
the  conversation  turned  upon  the  doings  of  the  preceding  council  at  Wilming- 
ton. Says  Dr.  Backus,  "  I  am  surprised  that  you  gentlemen,  who  profess  to 
be  so  liberal,  should  have  acted  so  illiberal  a  part  in  refusing  to  ordain  a  man 
because  he  differed  from  you  in  opinion;  if  it  had  been  we  stiff-backs,  who 
make  no  pretentions  to  liberality,  it  would  not  have  been  strange."  Says  Dr. 
Cummings,  with  great  good  nature, — "  Oh,  when  we  are  among  stiff-backs,  we 
must  be  stiff-backs  too."  I  heard  Dr.  Backus  relate  the  incident  at  a  meet- 
ing of  tlie  Tolland  Ascociation,  and  he  seemed  to  have  been  much  amused  b}'  it. 
Notwithstanding  Dr.  Cummings  was  urbane  and  pleasant  in  his  general 
intercourse,  he  is  understood  to  have  been  a  somewhat  ri^id  domestic  disciplin- 
arian. His  children  were  under  more  than  common  restraint,  and  possibly 
more  than  conduced  to  their  advantage.  Of  course  this  indicated  no  lack  of 
parental  affection,  though  perhaps  it  was  a  mistake  in  judgment. 

Truly  yours, 

ABIEL  ABBOT. 

FROM  THE  REV.  NATHANIEL  WHITMAN. 

Bridgewater,  Mass.,  February  6,  1852. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  my  venerable  colleague.  Dr.  Cum- 
mings, commenced  in  the  summer  of  1813,  and  continued  without  interruption 
till  the  time  of  his  death.  It  was  thus  my  privilege  to  enjoy  the  most  inti- 
mate, confidential  and  delightful  intercourse  with  him  during  a  period  of  ten 
years.  I  suppose  I  shall  meet  j'our  wishes  best  by  tasking  my  memory  for 
some  of  the  incidents  illustrative  of  his  character,  which  fell  under  my  obser- 
vation, or  came  within  my  knowledge. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  traits  of  Dr.  Cummings'  character  was  his  inflex- 
ible adherence  to  general  rules.  He  used  often  to  say  to  me  that  one  of  the 
great  deficiencies  among  Christians  was  their  making  exceptions  to  general 
rules  too  easily,  and  without  a  wise  consideration  of  consequences.  The  effect 
of  this  was  that  he  was  never  thoroughly  understood  by  those  who  saw  him 
only  at  a  distance. 

Let  me  illustrate: — To  accommodate  the  aged  members  of  the  church,  he 
proposed,  soon  after  his  ordination,  to  omit  the  Communion  service  in  the  winter 
season,  and  to  increase  the  number  of  Communion  occasions  in  tlie  pleasanter 
parts  of  the  year.  But  the  aged  members  said  <«  No;  we  want  the  Communion 
in  the  winter  as  well  as  the  summer.  A  short  time  after  this,  the  Communion 
happened  on  a  Sabbath  which  was  extremely  stormy  and  uncomfortable.  The 
Deacon  called  upon  him  in  the  morning  and  said, — "  You  will,  of  course.  Sir, 
postpone  the  Communion  —  nobody  can  get  to  meeting  to-day."     His  answer 


62  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

■was, — "No,  the  Communion  will  not  bo  j^ostponed;  they  have  deliberately 
decided  that  the}''  will  have  the  Communion  during  the  winter  season  —  that 
is  our  rule,  and  I  shall  conform  to  it."  Whenever  he  went  to  take  tea  with  a 
faniil}'-,  if  he  happened  to  sa_y,  when  he  arrived,  as  he  very  frequently  did, — 
«<  I  must  start  for  home  at  such  a  time,"  start  he  would,  whether  he  had  had 
his  tea  or  not;  and  no  entreaties  could  prevail  to  alter  his  determination.  He 
would  sometimes  be  requested  to  shorten  the  afternoon  exercises  on  the  Sab- 
bath, on  account  of  a  funeral  which  was  to  succeed  them;  but  his  answer 
would  he,  unless  special  reasons  forbade, — "  No,  I  shall  not  subordinate  the 
established  worship  of  God  to  such  arrangements.  You  will  soon  want  me  to 
dispense  with  the  afternoon  service  altogether  on  such  occasions — I  see  no 
reason  in  such  a  request  —  we  must  maintain  the  regular  worship  —  I  will  be 
at  the  funeral  in  good  season."  He  w^as  accustomed  religiously  to  observe 
Sabbath  evening;  but  to  be  prepared  for  perfect  freedom,  in  all  respects,  for 
the  enjoyment  and  improvement  of  the  Sabbath,  he  would  bring  all  worldly 
matters  to  a  stand  early  Saturday  evening;  not,  however,  because  he  was  nar- 
row-minded or  superstitious,  but  because  he  was  just  the  opposite.  His  family 
must  always  all  go  to  meeting.  But  a  formal  and  warm  dinner  must  also  be 
prepared;  because  he  might  see  some  friend,  or  some  stranger,  at  meeting, 
whom  it  would  be  his  duty  to  ask  home  to  dine  with  him.  So  the  difficulty 
of  the  case  was  thus  met  —  the  dinner  was  partly  prepared  in  the  morning, 
and  hastily  finished  at  noon.  Thus  both  these  general  rules  were  observed, 
ever  after  I  knew  him.  A  few  days  before  his  death,  he  said  to  his  grand- 
daughters who  had  the  care  of  him, — "  Is  the  house  ready.'  I  wish  every  thing 
to  be  arranged,  so  that  when  the  solemn  scene  shall  come,  you  may  be  able  to 
be  still  and  meditate."  And  so  it  was  in  respect  to  every  thing  —  he  adhered 
to  general  rules, —  sometimes  doubtless  too  rigidly:  but,  in  doing  so,  he  was 
evidently  governed  by  the  sternest  convictions  of  right;  and  the  occasional 
errois  into  which  the  principle  may  have  led  him,  were  not«such  as  to  mater- 
ially affect  his  u.«efulness. 

The  theological  controversy  of  Dr.  Cummings'  day  related,  I  suppose,  more 
especially  to  the  subject  of  Moral  Agency.  In  this  controversy,  he  was  prom- 
inent among  those  divines  who  maintained  the  Arminian  view  of  the  subject. 
He  examined  Edwards  on  the  Will  with  great  care,  and  wrote  a  Review  of  it, 
which  he  highly  valued,  containing  condemnatory  strictures.  A  few  years 
after  he  was  ordained,  he  became  dissatisfied  with  the  Trinitarian  views  in 
which  he  had  been  educated;  and,  having  procured  Waterland,  and  what- 
ever other  standard  authors  were  within  his  reach,  he  spent  a  good  part 
of  a  year  in  a  critical  examination  of  the  subject.  Not  being  satisfied  with 
the  result,  he  betook  himself  to  the  diligent  study  of  the  sacred  records;  and 
he  finally  rested  in  the  conclusion  that  the  revealed  doctrine  is  that  there  is 
one  God,  the  Father,  and  one  Mediator,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He  had  no 
fondness  for  any  human  theory  whatever  on  the  subject  of  the  union  of  the 
Father  and  Son;  though  he  certainly  was  not  a  Humanitarian. 

On  a  visit  which  I  paid  to  Dr.  Cummings  not  long  before  his  death,  I  took 
the  liberty  to  ask  him  if  there  was  any  thing  remarkable  in  the  manner  of  his 
first  becoming  interested  in  religion.  Pale  and  feeble,  he  raised  his  head  a 
little  from  his  pillow,  and,  with  tears  copiously  rolling  down  his  withered 
cheeks,  he  made  me  the  following  answer: — "It  was  in  a  way  of  God's 
blessing  on  a  Christian  education.  T  should  have  been  an  infidel,  had  it  not 
been  for  my  mother.  She  used  to  keep  me  reading  daily  in  the  New  Testament, 
while  she  set  before  me  a  truly  Christian  example.  I  was  thus  trained  up  to 
believe  that  the  New  Testament  contained  a  Divine  revelation;  and  I  was  sat- 
isfied that  such  a  religion  was  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  because  I  saw  its 
blessed  influences  in  my  mother's  character,  and  in  her  deep  solicitude  for 


HENRY    CUMMINGS.  63 

the  salvation  of  her  children.  I  was  thus,"  he  continued,  "  saved  from  the 
paths  of  the  destroj^er,  until,  as  I  grew  up,  I  became  wholly  persuaded  and 
enabled  to  become  a  Christian,  through  a  Divine  blessing  on  my  own  earnest 
attention  to  the  subject."  Ilis  language  to  strangers  who  called  upon  him  in 
his  decline,  was, — "  I  am  not  in  bondage  through  fear  of  death."  To  me  he 
would  say, — "  I  feel  as  sure  of  future  felicity  as  I  do  of  my  future  existence. 
My  religion  is  ingrained  with  the  very  elements  of  my  moral  being — in  order 
to  take  my  religion  from  me,  it  would  be  necessary  to  tear  my  soul,  fibre  from 
fibre."  By  this  way  of  speaking,  he  designed  to  say  that  he  had  the  witness 
in  himself  that  Christ  was  formed  within  him,  the  hope  of  his  glory;  for 
he  repudiated  with  infinite  abhorrence  all  thought  of  personal  merit  —  he 
regarded  salvation  as  wholly  of  grace.  He  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
fact  that  the  sinner  is  prone  to  deceive  himself  —  by  building  his  hope  of  Hea- 
ven on  a  dead  faith.  Hence  he  was  most  pointed,  solemn  and  earnest  in  urging 
the  necessity  of  believing  in  Christ,  with  the  heart,  unto  righteousness; 
declaring  to  his  hearers,  with  all  plainness,  that,  if  their  faith  in  Christ  did 
not  save  them  from  sinning,  neither  would  it  save  them  from  suffering.  His 
preaching  was  eminently  practical,  because  it  was  emphatically  doctrinal.  A 
spiritual  lenovation,  begun  and  carried  forward,  through  the  Spirit  and  grace 
of  God,  by  the  instrumentality  of  a  supernatural  revelation, —  this  was  one 
of  the  great  truths  on  which  he  loved  to  dwell.  He  intended,  as  he  told  me, 
to  close  his  ministry  by  repeating  a  sermon  from  the  text, — "  By  grace  are  j'e 
saved."  He  accordingly  read  it  over  and  over  again,  the  spring  before  his 
death,  that  he  might  be  able  to  deliver  it  with  ease  and  impressiveness;  but 
his  strength  failed  so  rapidly  that  he  was  not  able  to  deliver  it  at  all. 

Dr.  Cummings  was  remarkable  for  the  impartiality  of  his  friendship  towards 
all  his  people,  as  well  as  for  the  dexterous  manner  in  which  he  sometimes 
manifested  it.  It  was  customary,  at  an  early  period  in  the  history  of  the 
town,  to  hold  the  town-meeting  rMarch  meeting)  during  the  whole  day.  They 
would  organize  in  the  forenoon;  and  those  living  in  the  middle  of  the  large 
town,  (as  its  boundaries  then  were,)  were  accustomed  to  invite  to  dinner  those 
who  lived  at  a  distance;  and  the  minister  used  to  practise  the  same  civility  in 
this  respect  as  his  neighbours.  On  one  of  the.se  occasions,  when  he  had  a 
number  of  his  parishioners  sitting  around  his  table,  one  of  them,  evidently 
with  a  view  to  exalt  himself  in  the  estimation  of  his  minister,  began  to  speak 
in  a  sort  of  confidential  manner  to  him,  to  the  disparagement  of  certain  of  his 
parishioners  who  were  not  present.  The  Doctor  turned  round,  with  groat 
dignity  and  sternness,  and  thus  addressed  his  mistaken  guest: — "I  invited 
you  to  dine  with  me  to  day  as  a  friend  to  me,  and  not  as  a  slanderer  of  any 
of  my  people,  all  of  whom  I  consider  my  friends."  The  reproof  had  the 
desired  effect.  Indeed,  it  was  a  proverbial  saying  among  the  people, — "  Pour 
a  bushel  basket  full  of  gossip  and  scandal  down  at  the  Doctor's  door,  and  he 
will  not  stoop  to  pick  it  up." 

In  every  social  and  relative  duty  Dr.  Cummings  was  most  careful  and  con- 
scientious. He  did  not  allow  himself  even  to  mention  the  name  of  an}^  one  who 
had  injured  him,  without  special  cause,  lest  he  should  say  something  incon- 
sistent with  Christian  forgiveness.  I  may  add  that,  as  an  observer  of  the  Sab- 
bath, as  a  venerator  of  Christian  institutions  and  ordinances,  few,  if  any, 
exceeded  him. 

The  first  Sabbath  of  May,  1823,  was  our  Communion.  I  asked  him,  on  the 
morning  of  that  day,  if  he  proposed  to  attend  meeting.  Ilis  reply  was, — <«  I 
am  not  well  enough  to  go,  for  I  am  very  feeble:  I  shall  nevertheless  make  the 
attempt,  because  it  is  Communion  day.  I  will  go,  if  I  can,  to  show  my  regard 
.and  veneration  for  the  ordinance."  He  went,  took  his  seat  in  a  pew,  and 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  services  of  the  occasion.     As  we  walked  from  the  house 


64  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

of  God  to  our  homes,  after  the  service,  he  said  to  me, — "  I  shall  never  again 
unite  witli  you  in  public  worship  on  earth — my  departure  is  near."  He  then, 
till  we  reached  home,  continued  speaking  with  deep  gratitude  of  the  goodness 
and  mercy  of  God  towards  him  during  his  long  life.  "We  never  did  worship 
together  in  public  after  that  day.  He  was  at  meeting  indeed,  a  part  of  the 
next  Sunday,  but  I  exchanged.  Let  me  say,  in  this  connection,  that  he  was 
an  open  and  earnest  enemy  to  that  pscudo  something,  which  would  destroy  a 
practical  regard  to  the  institutions  and  ordinances  of  Christianity.  He  used 
to  say, — The  farther  a  tiue  civilization  advances,  the  greater  will  be  the  prac- 
tical devotion  to  these  institutions  and  ordinances;  for  so  will  their  importance, 
beauty  and  utility  be  more  clearly  seen  and  more  deeply  felt.  While  he 
rejoiced  in  many  of  the  signs  of  the  times,  there  were  some  which  did  not 
give  him  pleasure;  yet  he  delighted  to  anticipate  a  holier  and  happier  period 
of  the  Church  and  of  the  nations.  While  he  held  his  own  opinions  firmly,  he 
■was  eminently  a  lover  of  all  good  men,  however  they  might  differ  from  him  in 
their  theological  speculations. 

I  must  not  omit  to  say  that  I  found  in  him  every  thing  I  could  desire  in  a 
colleague.  An  incident  which  now  occurs  to  me  may  illustrate  the  graceful 
and  dignified  manner  in  which  he  retired,  in  a  great  measure,  from  the  scenes 
of  public  and  official  life.  The  week  after  my  ordination,  I  was  dining  with 
him;  and,  while  at  the  table,  he  said  to  me, — "  Where  have  you  been  this  fore- 
noon.^" Answering  according  to  my  then  predominant  feelings,  I  said, — "I  have 
been  to  visit  one  of  your  people  who  is  sick."  Laying  down  his  knife  and 
fork,  and  turning  round  so  as  to  look  me  full  in  the  face,  he  said,  with  an 
expression  of  countenance  and  an  emphasis  which  I  shall  never  forget, — "  Our 
people."  He  did  not  add  another  word.  I  comprehended  his  design  in  a 
moment.  It  was  to  encourage  me  to  cherish  a  feeling  of  equality  with  him  in 
our  joint  labours.  And  when  he  thought  that  there  had  been  time  for  his 
remark  to  take  effect,  he  began  to  talk  with  me  about  my  people,  and  to  inquire 
when  a  labour  of  love  from  him  would  be  most  acceptable  to  me;  for  he 
preached  occasionally  for  several  years  after  I  was  settled.  And  he  always 
endeavoured  so  to  arrange  in  respect  to  the  time  of  his  preaching  as  to  afford 
me  the  greatest  relief  and  assistance.  He  laboured  also  continually  among  my 
people  to  promote  both  m}'^  comfort  and  usefulness.  Said  he  to  me,  one  day, — 
"  I  have  been  out  among  the  people,  generalling  for  you."  Yes,  from  first  to 
last,  he  used  to  be  generalling  for  me.  Indeed,  he  appeared  to  take  more 
satisfaction  when  any  tiling  occurred  that  seemed  a  favour  to  me,  than  when 
he  was  the  immediate  object  of  the  favour  himself.  I  remember  him  with  the 
"Warmest  gratitude  and  veneration,  and  shall  be  glad  if  wlrat  I  have  written  is 
any  help  to  you  in  your  attempt  to  embalm  his  memory. 

Yours  with  sincere  regard, 

NATHANIEL  WHITMAN. 


SIMEON    HOWARD.  65 


SIMEON  HOWARD,  D.  D. 

1762—1804. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  February  15, 1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  was  contemporary  in  the  ministry  with  Dr.  Howard  of 
Boston  for  several  years,  and  have  still  a  vivid  recollection  of  his  venera- 
ble appearance.  He  was  far  advanced  in  life  at  the  time  of  my  settlement 
here,  and  my  intercourse  with  him  was  that  of  a  young  man  with  an  old 
one ;  but  I  think  I  may  safely  trust  myself  to  say  a  few  things  in  respect 
to  both  his  history  and  his  character. 

Simeon  Howard  was  a  native  of  Bridgewater,  in  this  State,  and  was 
born,  April  29,  (0.  S.,)  1733.  He  entered  Harvard  College  in  1754,  and, 
having  maintained  through  his  wliole  course  a  high  standing  for  scholar- 
ship, graduated  with  distinguished  honour  in  1768.  After  leaving  Col- 
lege, he  engaged  for  a  time  in  teaching  a  school ;  and,  probably  in  connec- 
tion with  his  duties  as  a  teacher,  prosecuted  the  study  of  Theology.  Hav- 
ing received  approbation  to  preacli,  he  was  invited  to  labour  for  a  time  in 
Cumberland,  Nova  Scotia,  and,  his  health  being  in  a  state  to  be  benefitted, 
as  he  thought,  by  a  sea-voyage,  he  accepted  the  invitation,  and  continued 
there,  it  is  believed,  between  one  and  two  years.  Here  he  made  many 
friends,  and  they  would  gladly  have  detained  him  permanently  among  them, 
but  he  preferred  to  return  to  this  country.  Accordingly,  he  did  return,  in 
1765,  and  went  to  Cambridge  to  prosecute  his  studies  as  a  resident  graduate. 
The  next  year,  he  was  elected  Tutor,  at  the  same  time  with  Mr.  (after- 
wards President)  Willard.  In  February,  1767,  he  was  unanimously  invited 
to  become  the  Pastor  of  the  West  Church  in  Boston,  then  vacant  by  the- 
death  of  Dr.  Mayhew,  which  had  occurred  the  preceding  year.  This  invi- 
tation he  accepted.  He  was  ordained  on  tlie  6th  of  May  following,  and 
the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  Dr.  Chauncy. 

The  ministry  of  Dr.  Howard  in  Boston  was  painfully  interrupted  by  the 
scenes  of  the  Revolution.  While  the  British  troops  were  in  possession  of 
the  town,  the  house  in  which  he  preached  was  turned  into  a  barrack,  and 
his  congregation  scattered  in  every  direction.  Having  made  many  friends 
in  Nova  Scotia,  during  his  previous  residence  there,  and  having  been  once 
or  twice  applied  to  to  send  them  a  minister,  he  proposed  to  some  of  his 
parishioners  who  seemed  disheartened  by  a  view  of  the  sad  state  of  things,, 
to  retire  with  him  thither  for  a  refuge  ;  and,  though  he  was  scarcely  seri- 
ous, at  the  moment,  in  making  the  proposal,  they,  in  their  despondency,, 
instantly  fell  in  with  it,  and  the  arrangements  were  quickly  made  for  their 
departure.  As  Dr.  Howard  was  known  to  be  a  decided  Whig,  it  was  not 
without  some  difficulty  that  he  obtained  permission  to  leave  the  country- 
He,  however,  at  length  succeeded,  and,  after  a  tedious  voyage  of  a  month, 
arrived  with  his  friends  at  Annapolis  Royal.  They  found  the  inhabitants  in 
a  state  of  want,  almost  approaching  starvation  ;  and  yet  they  were  received 
with  great  kindness,  and  as  much  hospitality  as  the  distressing  pressure  of 
the  times  would  permit.     They  soon  passed   on  to  the  place  of  their  desti- 

VoL.  vin.  6 


66  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

nation,  which  was  eighteen  miles  up  the  river,  where  also  the  people,  though 
greatly  straitened  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  met  them  with  every  expres- 
sion of  good-will,  and  provided  them  with  the  best  accommodations  they 
could  furnish. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival,  he  was  arrested  and  carried  to  Halifax,  in  con- 
sequence, as  was  supposed,  of  a  letter  written  by  General  Gage  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  Province,  after  Mr.  Howard's  application  to  go  to  Nova  Sco- 
tia had  been  refused,  and  from  an  apprehension  that  he  might  make  his 
escape  privately.  After  his  request  was  granted,  the  Governor  wrote  a 
second  letter,  which,  though  it  did  not  arrive  in  season  to  prevent  his  arrest, 
was  the  occasion  of  his  being  immediately  liberated.  He  was  treated  with 
great  respect  while  he  was  in  Halifax,  and  preached  in  one  of  the  churches. 
He  discovered,  as  he  thought,  an  impatient  and  restive  spirit  among  the 
people,  that  might  easily  have  been  wrought  up  to  open  rebellion  ;  but,  as 
he  honestly  believed  that  any  such  hostile  demonstration  would  only  ren- 
der their  case  worse,  he  endeavoured  rather  to  soothe  them  by  sympathy 
than  encourage  them  to  revolt. 

On  his  return  to  Boston,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  a  year  and  a  half,  he 
found  his  Society  so  far  reduced  in  numbers,  from  death,  emigration  and 
other  causes,  that  they  were  seriously  apprehensive  that  they  should  be 
obliged  to  disband,  from  their  inability  to  support  the  ministry.  He 
refused,  however,  to  listen  to  such  a  suggestion,  assuring  them  that  he 
would  receive  whatever  compensation  they  could  give  him,  and  would  con- 
tinue Avith  them  while  three  families  remained.  He  further  agreed  "  to 
accept  the  contribution  that  should,  from  time  to  time,  be  collected  and 
paid  him  during  his  ministry,  as  a  full  compensation,  any  agreement  with 
the  Society  previously  made  notwithstanding."  The  Society,  as  they  recov- 
ered their  strength,  did  not  forget  the  generous  sacrifices  which  he  had 
.made  in  their  behalf. 

He  died  after  an  illness  of  a  week,  on  the  13th  of  August,  1804,  in  the 
seventy-second  year  of  his  age.  On  the  Monday  previous,  he  dined  at  the 
house  of  a  friend,  and  was  apparently  in  perfect  health.  But,  in  conse- 
•quence,  as  was  supposed,  of  some  imprudence  in  respect  to  his  dress,  he 
was  seized  with  a  violent  disease,  {angina  'pectoris,)  which  resisted  all  medi- 
cal skill.  His  Funeral  was  attended  on  Wednesday,  the  15th,  and  a  Ser- 
•mon  preached  on  the  occasion  by  his  particular  friend,  President  Willard, 
from  Ptevelation  ii,  10..  There  was  every  demonstration  of  respect  to  his 
mcniory,  not  only  among  his  own  people  but  in  the  community  at  large  ; 
and  many  of  the  sliops  and  stores  were  closed  in  the  streets  through  which 
•the  funeral  procession  passed. 

The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by  the  Uni- 
■versity  of  Edinburgh.  He  was  an  Overseer  and  a  Fellow  of  Harvard 
•Colleg'e,  and  was  a  member  of  most  of  our  Societies  for  tlie  promotion 
.of  literary,  charitable  and  religious  objects,  and  an  officer  of  several  of 
them. 

Dr.  Howard  was  first  married  in  December,  1771,  to  the  widow  of  Dr. 
Mayhew,  his  predecessor.  She  died  in  April,  1777,  at  the  age  of  forty- 
four.  His  second  wife  was  the  daughter  of  his  early  friend,  Dr.  Gay,  of 
Hingham.      He  left  one  son,  Dr.  John   Clarke  Howard,  sometimes   called 


SIMEON    HOWARD.  67 

"  the  beloved  physician,"  who  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1790, 
and'died  ia  1810,  aged  thirty-eight  years. 

Dr.  Howard,  ia  his  religious  opinions,  was  probably  always  an  Arian. 
During  the  earlier  part  of  his  ministry,  he  did  not  belong  to  the  Boston 
Association,  as  his  predecessor  had  not  done.  It  appears  from  the  records 
of  the  Asso'ciation  that,  in  August,  1784,  a  Committee,  appointed  at  a  for- 
mer meeting,  "  to  wait  on  him,  and  know  whether  he  wished  to  join  the 
Association,  reported  that  they  had  attended  to  that  service,  and  the  Rev. 
3Ir.  Howard  would  take  the  matter  into  consideration."  It  appears  fur- 
ther that,  in  July,  1790,  Dr.  Howard  signified  his  desire  tobecome  a  mem- 
ber, and  was  admitted,  accordingly,  and  preached  the  Thursday  Lecture. 
The  fact  of  his  not  joining  the  Association  at  an  earlier  period  was  not 
owing  to  any  want  of  good- will  towards  his  brethren,  but  probably  to  the 
peculiar  circumstances  in  which  he  found  himself  placed,  as  the  successor 
of  Dr.  Mayhew,  in  whose  theological  views  he  was  known  to  sympathize. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Howard  was  far  from  being,  in  the  common  accepta- 
tion of  the  word,  eloquent.  He  seldom  took  his  eyes  from  his  manu- 
script during  the  delivery  of  a  sermon.  His  style,  however,  was  per- 
spicuous and  flowing,  and  his  method  exact  and  luminous.  His  sermons 
were  generally  on  practical  subjects,  though  he  was  undoubtedly  more  free 
in  the  statement  of  his  peculiar  views  than  most  of  his  contemporaries. 
His  prayers  were  uttered  with  great  solemnity,  and  occasionally  with  con- 
siderable pathos.  At  the  Funeral  of  Dr.  John  Clarke,  whose  sudden  death 
greatly  affected  him,  and  again  on  the  occasion  of  a  Commencement  at 
Cambridge,  when  his  friend  President  Willard  lay  dangerously  ill.  I  remem- 
ber his  praying  with  a  degree  of  fervour  and  tenderness  that  awoke  the 
sympathies  of  nearly  the  whole  audience. 

Dr.  Howard  was  distinguished  for  a  truly  patriarchal  simplicity  of  char- 
acter. No  one  ever  suspected  him  of  seeming  to  aim  at  one  object  when 
he  was  really  aiming  at  another.  He  evidently  had  a  humble  opinion  of 
himself,  though  he  had  nothing  of  that  spurious  humility  that  leads  some 
men  to  be  forever  ostentatiously  acknowledging  their  own  imperfections. 
He  was  charitable  in  his  estimate  of  character,  and  never  imputed  evil 
motives  when  any  other  could  possibly  be  supposed.  He  was  bland  and 
gentle  in  his  manners;  calm  and  equable  in  his  temper.  He  was  cheerful 
without  levity,  and  serious  without  gloom.  He  was  more  inclined  to  listen 
than  to  speak ;  and  when  he  did  speak,  he  rarely,  if  ever,  said  any  thing 
wliich  either  he  or  his  friends  had  occasion  to  regret.  His  parishioners 
loved  him  as  a  brother  and  honoured  him  as  a  father ;  his  brethren  in  the 
ministry  always  met  him  with  a  grateful  and  cordial  welcome  ;  and  the  com- 
munity at  large  reverenced  him  for  his  simplicity,  integrity  and  benevolence. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Howard's  publications: — 

A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Artillery  Election,  1773.  A  Sermon  occa- 
sioned by  the  Death  of  his  Wife,  1777.  A  Sermon  preached  before  a  Lodge 
of  Free  Masons,  1778.  Christians  have  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  their 
Religion  :  A  Sermon,  1779.  A  Sermon  preached  on  the  day  of  the  Gene- 
ral Flection,  1780.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Thomas 
Adams,*  1791.  I  am  faithfully  yours,  JOHN   PIERCE. 

*  Thomas  Adams  was  a  native  of  E-oxbury;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1788; 
was  ordained  at  Camden,  S.  C,  November  18,  1791;  and  died  August  16,  1797. 


68  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


JOHN  LATHROP,  D.  D. 

1765—1816. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  January  8,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir :  In  complying  with  your  request  for  my  recollections  of 
Dr.  John  Lathrop,  I  am  able  to  avail  myself  of  some  memoranda  respect- 
ing him  which  I  made  shortly  after  his  death.  I  cherish  the  most  sincere 
respect  for  his  memory,  and  am  glad  you  have  given  me  an  opportunity  to 
testify  it  through  your  contemplated  work.  He  had  a  high  place  in  the 
hearts  of  his  brethren,  and  was  regarded  with  much  veneration  by  the 
community  at  large. 

John  Lathrop  was  born  of  reputable  parents  in  Norwich,  Conn,,  May 
17,  1740,  and  was  the  youngest  but  one  of  ten  sons.  It  was  his  purpose, 
in  early  life,  to  devote  himself  to  the  medical  profession,  and  he  even 
commenced  his  studies  with  reference  to  it,  but  subsequently  resolved  to 
enter  the  ministry.  Accordingly,  he  became  in  due  time  a  member  of 
Princeton  College,  where  he  received  his  Bachelor's  degree  in  1763. 

For  some  months  after  his  graduation,  he  was  engaged  as  an  assistant 
teacher  with  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wheelock,  in  Moor's  Indian  Charity  School,  at 
Lebanon,  Conn.,  and,  at  the  same  time,  availed  himself  of  Dr.  Wheelock's 
instruction  in  Theology.  After  he  received  approbation  to  preach,  he 
laboured,  for   a  short   time,  as  a   missionary  among  the  Indians,  and,  ia 

1767,  was  invited  to  settle  both  at  Taunton  and  Reading, —  both  of  which 
invitations,  however,  he  declined.  Shortly  after,  he  preached  as  a  can- 
didate at  the  Old  North  Church  in  Boston,  from  which  he  received  a 
unanimous   call;    and,   having  accepted  the   call,  was  ordained,   May   18, 

1768.  In  1775,  when  Boston  was  in  possession  of  the  British  army,  he 
set  out  to  find  a  refuge  in  his  native  place  ;  but,  as  he  was  passing  through 
Providence  on  his  way  to  Norwich,  proposals  were  made  to  him  to  supply 
a  destitute  congregation  there,  to  which  he  consented.  Upon  the  opening 
of  Boston,  in  1776,  however,  he  returned  ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  the 
ancient  house  in  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  preach  had  been  demo- 
lished and  used  as  fuel.  It  was  ninety-eight  years  old  ;  but  was  consid- 
ered, "  at  its  demolition,  a  model  of  the  first  architecture  in  New  England." 
Mr.  Lathrop  accepted  an  invitation  from  the  New  Brick  Church,  to  aid 
their  Pastor,  Dr.  Pemberton,  then  in  a  declining  state.  And,  after  Dr. 
Pemberton's  death  in  the  following  year,  the  two  Societies  united  ;  and, 
on  the  27th  of  June,  1779,  he  became  their  joint  Pastor.  In  this  relation 
he  continued  during  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

He  received  a  Diploma  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the  University  of 
Edinburgh,  in  17  84. 

I  have  it  on  the  authority  of  the  late  Dr.  Eliot,  that,  in  early  life, 
Dr.  Lathrop  embraced  the  Calvinistic  faith.  Indeed,  considering  that 
he  was  born  and  received  his  early  education  in  Connecticut,  where 
scarcely  any  other  form  of  doctrine  was  then  known,  it  would  have  been 
strange  had  the  case  been  otherwise.     At  what  period  in  his  ministry  the 


JOHN    LATHROP.  69 

change  in  his  views  took  place,  I  am  unable  to  say  —  hut  that  he  actually 
did  become  an  Arminian,  and,  in  some  sense,  a  Unitarian,  is,  I  believe, 
beyond  all  doubt.  He  may  have  been  an  Arian  or  a  Sabellian,  or  a 
believer  in  the  "  Indwelling  scheme,"  as  it  has  been  called  ;  but  of  the 
particuhir  type  of  his  Unitarianism  I  cannot  speak  with  confidence.  He 
said  little  on  these  subjects  in  private  ;  and,  so  far  as  my  knowledge 
extends,  nothing  at  all  in  public.  His  settlement  in  Boston  brought  him 
in  contact  with  such  men  as  Doctors  Chauncy,  Howard,  Eliot,  Belknap, 
Clarke,  and  others  of  a  similar  stamp  ;  and,  as  he  was  on  terms  of  the  most 
intimate  intercourse  with  them,  his  opinions,  perhaps,  insensibly  to  him- 
self, came  into  essential  harmony  with  theirs. 

Dr.  Lathrop's  preaching  was  rather  practical  than  doctrinal;  rather  sen- 
sible than  ornate.  His  sermons  were  short,  not  ordinarily  exceeding 
twenty-five  minutes  in  the  delivery.  There  was  little  of  the  appearance  of 
labour  about  them  ;  and  the  thoughts  whicdi  he  expressed,  though  judi- 
cious and  pertinent,  were  generally  obvious  to  ordinary  minds,  and  par- 
took, like  (he  character  of  his  own  mind,  more  of  correctness  than  origi- 
nalit}'.  His  manner  of  speaking  in  the  pulpit  was  deliberate,  but  some- 
times animated  ;  though  it  lacked  perhaps  somewhat  the  simplicity  of  nature. 
His  devotional  performances  were  generally  appropriate  and  acceptable. 

He  was  an  ardent  patriot.  Of  the  scenes  of  the  Kevolution  he  was  far 
from  being  an  indifferent  spectator  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  he  mingled  in 
thuiii  with  great  zeal,  as  far  as  would  consist  with  his  sacred  vocation. 
Froui  the  time  of  the  furmatiou  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  he  was  a  uni- 
form and  ardent  disciple  of  Washington.  During  tlie  War  of  1812,  he  was, 
like  most  of  his  brethren,  convinced  that  our  government  was  greatly  in 
fault,  and  hesitated  not  to  speak  out  his  convictions,  both  in  public  and  in 
private. 

Dr.  Lathrop  exerted  no  inconsiderable  influence  in  his  day  ;  but  he  was 
indebted  for  it  rather  to  his  uniforml}^  judicious  course  than  to  any  remarka- 
ble intellectual  endowments  or  acquiren)ents.  In  his  intercourse  with 
society  at  large  he  was  blameless  and  inoffensive,  generous  and  public- 
spirited.  With  his  ministerial  brethren  he  maintained  the  most  affection- 
ate familiarity  ;  and  even  the  youngest  of  them,  while  he  bowed  befure  his 
venerable  age,  felt  attracted  to  his  kind  and  open  heart.  In  his  family  he 
■was  a  model  of  whatever  is  fitted  to  render  happy  and  useful  the  most 
endearing  relations.  For  years  before  his  death,  he  moved  about  as  a  very 
Patriarch  among  us,  and  his  presence  in  any  circle  never  failed  to  inspire 
respect  and  reverence. 

Dr.  Lathrop  discharged  regularly  and  acceptably  his  various  duties  until 
within  a  very  short  time  of  his  death.  The  last  business  in  which  he  was 
engaged  was  at  a  meeting  of  the  Corporation  of  Harvard  College,  at  the 
house  of  the  Hon.  Judge  Davis.  He  complained  there  of  violent  chills,  and 
expressed  an  apprehension  that  the  fever  and  ague,  from  which  he  had  pre- 
viously suffered,  was  about  to  return  upon  him.  He  refused  an  invitation 
to  ride  home  in  a  carriage,  hoping  that  the  exercise  of  walking  would  excite 
a  salutary  perspiration  ;  but  it  was  with  much  difficulty  that  he  reached 
his  own  dwelling.  His  case  was  immediately  pronounced  by  his  physicians 
a   lung   fever.     He    alternately    languished,  and   exhibited   symptoms  of 


70  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

recruiting,  for  twenty-fwo  days,  when  tlie  lamp  of  life  went  out.  He  died 
on  Thursday,  the  4th  of  January,  1816,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his 
age,  and  forty-eighth  of  his  ministry.  His  Funeral  was  attended  on  the 
succeeding  Tuesday,  and  a  Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  by  the  Rev. 
Francis  Parkman,  from  Zechariah,  i,  5,  "  Your  fathers, —  where  are  they?"  • 
It  was  published. 

In  1778,  he  became  a  Fellow  of  tlie  Corporation  of  Harvard  Univer- 
sity, which  station  he  filled  till  his  death.  He  was,  for  nniny  years.  Secre- 
tary of  the  Board.  He  was  also  one  of  the  Counsellors  of  the*  American 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences;  President  of  the  Massachusetts  Congrega- 
tional Charitable  Society,  and  of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian 
Knowledge  ;  Vice  President  of  the  Massachusetts  Bible  Society,  and  of 
the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel  in  North  America  ;  Member  of  the 
Scotch  Board  of  Commissioners,  of  the  American  Antiquarian  Society,  &c. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  his  publications  : — 

A  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Boston  Massacre,  1770.  A  Sermon  to  a 
Religious  Society  of  Young  Men  at  Medford,  1771.  An  Artillery  Elec- 
tion Sermon,  1774.  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1774.  'A  Sermon  on  the 
Fifth  of  March,  1778.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  his  Wife,  1778.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  William  Bentley,  1783.  A  Discourse  occa- 
sioned by  the  Return  of  Peace,  1783.  A  Discourse  before  the  Humane 
Society  of  Massachusetts,  1787.  A  Catechism  for  the  use  of  Children,  (2 
editions,)  1791  and  1813.  The  Dudleian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College, 
1793.  A  Discourse  addressed  to  the  Charitable  Fire  Society,  1796.  A 
Sermon  on  Fires  in  Boston,  1797.  A  Fast  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Yel- 
low Fever,  1798.  A  Sermon  on  the  National  Fast,  1799,  A  Sermon  on 
the  Commencement  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  (in  two  parts,)  1801.  A 
Sermon  before  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts, 
1804.  A  Sermon  before  the  Boston  Female  Asylum,  1804.  A  Sermon 
at  the  Dismission  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  McKean,  at  Milton,  1804.  A  Ser- 
mon at  the  Interment  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  West,  D.  D.,  1808.  A  Thanks- 
giving Sermon,  1808.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  his  Wife,  Mrs.  Eliza- 
beth Lathrop,  1809,  A  Sermon  at  the  Interment  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Eckley, 
1811.  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1811,  A  Discourse  delivered  on  the 
Author's  Birthday,  1812.  Two  Fast  Sermons  occasioned  by  the  War  of 
1812-15,  1812.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  John  Eliot,  D.  D., 
1813.  Biographical  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  John  Lothrop,  1813.  A  Ser- 
mon at  the  Dedication  of  a  Church  iu  Dorchester,  1813.  A  Sermon  on 
the  Law  of  Retaliation,  1814.  A  Sermon  preached  at  Weymouth,  at  the 
Interment  of  Miss  Mary  P.  Bicknell,  1814.  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon  on 
the  Return  of  Peace.  1815.    A  Compendious  History  of  the  late  War,  1815. 

In  addition  to  the  above  may  be  mentioned  several  Charges,  &c.,  at 
Ordinations,  delivered  at  different  periods  of  his  ministry,  and  some  valua- 
ble communications  to  the  American  Acadeniy,  which  are  embodied  in  their 
Collections.  I  am  very  truly  yours,  JOHN   PIERCE. 

Several  letters  addressed  by  Dr.  Lathrop,  at  an  early  period  of  his  min- 
istry, to  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Baldwin,  of  Danbury,  Conn.,  have  come  into 
my  possession,  the   following   extracts   from   which   may  help   to  illustrate 


JOHN    LATHROP.  71 

Bome  points  of  his  history,  and  especially  the  allusions,  in  Dr.  Pierce's  let- 
ter, to  his  early  religious  opinions. 

In  a  letter  dated,  Boston,  June  28,  1768,  he  writes  thus  : — 

"I  really  hope  and  believe  you  will  prove  a  warm  defender  of  the  Gospel;  and,  Oh, 
my  friend,  men  of  this  character  are  much  wanted.  For  my  part,  I  had  ratlicr  bii 
thought  a  little  enthusiastic  than  sutler  the  words  of  life  to  freeze  on  my  U\)s.  I  am 
sorry,  in  these  days  of  delusion,  to  hear  so  many  plead  for  moderation.  Pray  have 
you  read  Dr.  Witherspoon's  Characteristics?  If  you  have,  you  will  find  many  char- 
acters in  this  part  of  the  world  painted  out  very  exactly.  That  little  pamphlet  1  value 
at  a  high  price,  and  wish  that  every  minister  on  the  Continent  would  read  it  once  a 
month.  My  dear  brother,  we  are  engaged  in  a  glorious  cause,  we  have  a  good  Master 
to  serve,  and  what  shall  hinder  our  being  faithful  ?" 

In  another  letter,  dated  January  20th,  1769,  he  writes  thus  : — 

"  You  mention  that  you  hear  that  the  Convention  of  Ministers  in  the  Province  have 
actually  voted  to  lay  aside  all  creeds  and  confessions.  I  wLsh  there  was  not  too  mucli 
occasion  tor  such  a  report.  They  did  not  actually  vote  to  lay  aside  creeds  and  con- 
fessions. They  have  been  pretty  generally  laid  aside;  and  the  motion  was  to  revive 
them,  and  that  candidates  should  be  examined  and  introduced  in  the  manner  they  arc 
in  Connecticut.  This  was  urged  by  Dr.  Sewall  and  Mr.  Pemberton;  it  was  also 
opposed  by  others;  but,  the  forenoon  being  spent,  a  vote  was  desired  whether  the  mat- 
ter should  be  considered  again  alter  dinner,  and  passed  quite  full  that  it  should  not. 
As  soon  as  it  was  passed,  one  of  the  Convention  declared  his  most  earnest  hoj^e  that 
the  matter  might  ntiver  be  laid  before  the  Convention  again.  However,  he  need  not 
have  showed  himself  in  that  manner,  for  if  it  should  be  while  the  Convention  consists 
of  ministers  now  upon  the  stage,  there  is  no  manner  of  prospect  that  a  vote  can  be 
obtained  to  bring  creeds  and  confessions  into  use. 

"  You  mention  my  being  fixed  in  tiie  midst  of  a  crooked,  &c.  generation.  I  assure 
you,  it  is  a  matter  of  wonder  with  me  that  the  clergy  are  not  farther  from  the  charac- 
ter of  Gospel  ministers;  and  I  apprehend,  if  some  reform  is  not  come  into  a  few  gen- 
rations,  if  salaries  being  small  should  not  prevent  it,  the  pulpits  will  frequently  bo 
filled  not  only  with  Arminians,  but  professed  Arians,  Socinians,  and  even  Deists  them- 
selves." 

In  another  letter,  dated  Boston,  1  August,  1771,  he  writes, — 

"  I  can  but  think  good  Van  Mastricht  is  right  in  his  sentiments  about  Regeneration 
—  it  is  a  subject  of  great  importance:  I  wish  to  understand  it  well,  and  constantly  to 
feel  that  Divine  power  which  alone  is  sutiicient  to  produce  the  change,  operating  on 
my  heart." 

In  a  letter  dated  Boston,  Septeniber,  6,  1771,  he  writes, — 

"  I  have  but  just  returned  from  the  Eastern  parts  of  this  Province.  I  was  invited 
to  attend  as  a  member  of  a  Council  on  some  public  business.  We  went  about  three 
hundred  miles,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  how  the  poor  people  lived  three  or 
four  months  out  of  twelve,  upon  potatoes  and  clams.  I  preached  in  some  places 
wliere  there  had  not  been  a  sermon  i)reached  for  seven  or  eight  years.  It  does,  or  at 
least  it  should  do.  us  good  to  see  how  many  of  our  fellow  creatures  struggle  for  a  very 
subsistence." 

I  met  Dr.  Lathrop  first  in  May,  1811,  when  I  went  to  deliver  to  him 
the  letter  missive,  designed  to  secure  his  attendance  at  the  second  Council 
at  Coventry,  in  the  case  of  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot.  I  was  accoiupanied 
to  his  house  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Buckminster,  who,  I  found,  held  him  in  high 
veneration.  Our  call  interrupted  him  in  writing  a  Discourse  which  he 
was  to  deliver  a  day  or  two  after,  at  the  Funeral  of  Dr.  Eckley.  He  came 
out  of  his  study,  habited  in  an  old  fashioned  plaid  gown,  and  almost  the 
first  thing  he  said  was  that  he  had  begun  Dr.  Eckley's  Funeral  Sermon, 
but  was  making  very  poor  headway  in  it,  as  his  mind  was  not  in  working 
order.  His  manners  were  full  of  simple  kindness,  and  I  thought  him  one 
of  the  most  venerable  men  in  his  appearance  whom  I  had  ever  seen.  He 
came  to  Coventry  as  a  member  of  the  Council,  and,  being  the  oldest  mem- 
ber, was  appointed   Moderator.     The  feature  of  his   character  that  novr 


72  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

seems  to  me  to  have  been  most  prominent  there,  was  his  love  of  peace, — 
his  earnest  desire  to  avoid  all  needless  occasion  of  oflFcnce.  His  prayers — 
for  I  think  I  heard  him  pray  more  than  once —  were  remarkable  for  their 
simplicity,  and  the  earnest  tone  in  which  tliey  were  delivered.  I  never 
saw  him  after  this,  but  when  I  became  associated  in  the  nnuistry  witli  liis 
relative,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lathrop,  of  West  Springfield,  I  often  heard  him 
speak  of  him  in  terms  of  affectionate  regard,  and  he  was  never  willing  to 
admit  that  he  had  departed  much,  if  at  all,  from  the  accredited  standard 
of  orthodoxy, 

FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  LOWELL,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  February  28,  1853. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  asked  me,  some  time  since,  to  furnish  j-ou  with  my  recol- 
lections of  Dr.  Lathrop  of  Boston,  and  it  has  not  been  from  any  disregard  to 
your  wishes,  or  want  of  affectionate  respect  for  his  memory,  that  I  have  not 
done  it  at  an  earlier  period.  He  comes  up  vividly  before  me,  and  the  outline  of 
his  character  is  indelibly  impressed  on  my  memory. 

Dr.  Lathrop  was,  in  manj^  respects,  an  uncommonly  interesting  man; —  inter- 
esting not  from  the  fluency  or  wit  or  brilliancy  of  his  conversation,  although 
his  words  were  always  wise  and  pleasant;  but  from  the  sweetness  of  his  dis- 
position, the  gentleness  of  his  manners,  and  the  simplicity  and  purity  of  his 
mind  and  heart.  Whilst  his  age  and  the  venerableness  of  his  appearance 
inspired  respect  and  reverence,  his  benignant  countenance,  and  gentle,  winning 
address,  conciliated  confidence  and  affection.  There  was  a  childlike  simplicity 
about  him,  without  any  thing  of  childishness,  and  a  remarkable  cheerfulness 
"without  any  thing  of  levity.  I  have  often  been  with  him  alone  and  in  com- 
pany, and  I  feel  assured  that  I  never  heard  a  word  or  witnessed  an  action  from 
him,  that  I  could  wish  unsaid  or  undone.  In  his  old  age,  he  retained  his 
youthful  feelings,  and  adapted  himself  wonderfully  to  circumstances  in  his 
intercourse  with  his  j^ounger  brethren.  They  could  be  as  free  with  him,  so 
far  as  his  seniority  allowed  them,  as  with  one  another.  He  used  often  to  say 
that,  though  he  had  lost  all  the  associates  and  friends  of  earlier  life,  he  did 
not  feel  alone:  his  younger  brethren  supplied  the  places  of  those  who  were 
gone,  and  he  was  hardly  .sensible  of  any  diffeienc*.  The  truth  is,  his  own 
disposition,  in  a  good  measure,  brought  about  this  result.  He  made  others 
easy  and  happy  by  his  intercourse  with  them,  and  there  was  a  reflex  influence 
on  himself.  His  junior  brethren,  to  the  close  of  life,  sustained  and  cheered 
him,  under  God,  as  Aaron  and  Hur  held  up  the  arms  of  Moses  till  the  going 
down  of  the  sun. 

In  stature  Dr.  Lathrop  was  rather  tall,  his  features  were  large,  his  eyes  and 
eyebrows  dark,  if  not  black.  When  I  first  knew  him,  he  wore  the  full-bot- 
tomed white  whig,  such  as  was  usually  worn  by  the  elderly  ministers  of  that 
time;  but  some  years  before  his  death,  he  wore  his  own  hair,  silvered  by  age, 
extending  over  his  neck  behind,  but  not  flowing.  His  countenance  had  the 
floridness  of  a  temperate  and  healthy  old  age. 

It  was  my  privilege  to  be  with  him  in  his  last  sickness,  and  to  offer  at  his 
bedside  probably  the  last  praj-er  he  heard  on  earth.  When  I  entered  his 
chamber,  he  extended  liis  hand  to  me,  and  smiled,  as  he  had  always  smiled 
when  he  met  me;  addressing  me  in  words  to  this  effect, — "I  am  glad  to  see 
you,  my  friend,"  adding,  as  alas!  was  manifest — "  I  am  going;  but  I  am  not 
afraid  or  unwilling  to  die."  lie  continued  to  speak  for  some  time  in  words 
full  of  consolation  and  hope;  and,  with  such  words  upon  his  lips,  he  shortly 
after  breathed  out  his  spirit.  I  am  afiectionately  yours, 

CHARLES  LOWELL. 


JEREMY   BELKNAP.  73 


JEREMY  BELKNAP,  D.  D.^ 

1766—1798. 

Jeremt  Belknap,  the  eldest  child  of  Joseph  and  Sarah  (Byles)  Bel- 
knap, was  born  in  Boston,  June  4,  1744,  His  niotlier  was  a  niece  of  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Mather  Bjles,  whose  fame,  as  a  wit  at  least,  is  well  nigh 
universal.  His  father's  occupation  was  that  of  a  leather-dresser  and  dealer 
in  furs  and  skins.  Both  his  parents  were  members  of  the  Old  South 
Church,  were  persons  of  most  exemplary  Christian  character,  and  lived  to 
a  good  old  age,  to  enjoy,  for  many  years,  the  devoted  filial  attentions  of 
the  subject  of  this  sketch. 

After  having  been,  for  some  time,  under  the  instruction  of  that  cele- 
brated teacher,  Master  Lovell,  young  Belknap  entered  Harvard  College, 
at  the  close  of  1758,  when  he  was  only  in  his  fifteenth  year.  His  college 
course  was  marked  by  exemplary  diligence  and  great  proficiency  ;  and  some 
of  his  literary  exercises,  that  have  been  preserved,  indicate  that  high  sense 
of  obligation  to  do  good,  that  was  so  strikingly  manifested  in  his  whole 
subsequent  life.  He  was  graduated  in  July,  1762  ;  and,  immediately 
after,  took  charge,  as  a  teacher,  of  the  grammar  school  at  Milton.  Here 
he  continued,  with  the  exception  of  a  brief  interval  during  the  next  winter, 
until  March,  1764.  He  was  greatly  esteemed  as  a  teacher,  and  enjoyed 
the  good  will  and  confidence  not  only  of  his  pupils,  but  of  the  whole  com- 
munity in  which  he  lived.  One  of  his  pupils  was  Peter  Thacher,  after- 
wards the  Rev.  Dr.  Thacher  of  Brattle  Street  Church,  Boston  ;  and,  though 
he  was  at  the  time  only  twelve  years  old,  there  grew  up  between  him  and 
his  teacher  an  aff"ectionate  intimacy,  that  was  a  source  of  mutual  enjoyment 
and  benefit  during  the  residue  of  their  lives. 

About  the  close  of  the  year  1764,  he  undertook  the  instruction  of  an 
English  school  at  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  and  became  a  boarder  in  the  family 
of  the  llev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Samuel  Haven.  The  next  summer,  he 
accepted  an  invitation  to  take  charge  of  a  school  at  Greenland,  a  few  miles 
from  Portsmouth  ;  and  here  he  continued  till  he  entered  on  the  duties  of 
the  ministr}'.  In  his  theological  course,  which  was  prosecuted  in  connec- 
tion with  his  duties  as  a  teacher,  he  probably  had  some  assistance  from  the 
respectable  clergymen  in  whose  parishes  he  resided. 

After  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  was  considerably  advanced,  he 
seems  to  have  had  serious  doubts  whether  he  was  not  disqualified  for  the 
work,  from  the  want  of  a  renovated  heart.  In  this  state  of  mind,  he 
addressed  a  letter,  indicating  the  utmost  perplexity,  to  his  uncle,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Byles,  begging  for  his  advice  in  reference  to  the  painful  circumstances 
in  which  he  found  himself.  The  Doctor's  answer,  which  is  preserved,  is 
highly  creditable  to  both  his  discretion  and  his  piety.  While  it  recognizes 
the  paramount  importance  of  vital  piety  as  a  requisite  for  the  sacred  office, 
It  evidently  shows  that  the  writer  believed  that  his  young  friend  was  unne- 
cessarily writing  bitter  things  against  himself,  and  that  he  was  looking  for 

•  Memoir  by  his  Granddaughter. — Dr.  Kirkland's  Fun.  Serm. — Mass.  Hist.  ColL  VI. 


74  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

eviiicncc  of  Clirislian  character,  wliicli  perhaps  he  had  no  right  to  expect. 
The  letter  seems  to  have  had  some  effect  in  relieving  him  from  his  appre- 
hensions ;  though  it  was  not  without  much  trembling  that  he  ventured  to 
hold  fust  to  his  original  purpose  of  entering  tiie  ministry.  In  his  reply  to 
Dr.  Byles,  he  says, — 

"  I  hopn  }'oiir  prayers  and  the  prayers  of  my  other  friends  have  been  presented  on 
the  golden  altar  before  the  throne  of  God,  and  been  accei)table  to  Ijini,  as  sweet 
incense.  Piay  to  God  for  me  that  I  may  not  be  mistaken  in  a  matter  of  sncli  ever- 
lasting inii)ortance;  that  I  may  not  build  on  a  false  ibundation.  I  sliould  be  glad  of 
a  personal  converse  with  you  on  the  important  affairs  of  my  soul  and  eternity,  but  am 
afraid  that  1  should  not  be  able  to  express  my  thoughts  with  that  freedom  and  ease 
that  you  would  expect  and  desire." 

In  November,  1765,  he  was  invited  to  take  charge  of  a  grammar-school 
iu  Boston  ;  but  he  preferred  his  niore  quiet  situation  at  Greenland,  and 
declined  the  invitation.  About  this  time,  however,  he  became  deeply 
interested  in  the  school  at  Lebanon,  Conn.,  then  recently  established  by 
the  Rev.  Eleazer  AVheelock,  for  the  education  of  the  Indians;  and,  for  a 
time,  he  had  serious  thoughts  of  connecting  himself  permanently  with  that 
enterprise.  Though  some  of  his  friends  favoured  the  project,  yet  others, 
and  among  them  his  own  parents,  strongly  opposed  it;  and  the  result  was 
that,  after  much  reflection  and  consultation,  he  abandoned  it  altogether. 

Of  his  views  in  entering  the  ministry  he  has  left  the  following  record  : — 

"  It  has  been  my  constant,  habitual  tliought,  ever  since  I  was  capable  of  judging, 
that'  I  sliould  preach  the  Gospel.  U'itli  this  view  my  parents  educated  me,  and  to 
this  my  friends  have  often  lu'ged  and  i)ersuaded  me;  but  for  a  long  time  all  these 
things  were  in  vain.  I  knew  myself  to  be  destitute  of  the  grand  fnudaitiental  qualifi- 
cation of  a  true  minisfer  of  the  Gospel,  and  was  determined  never  to  undertake  preach- 
ing until  I  had  obtained  o  hope  in  Christ.  A  glorious  discovery  of  the  riclies  and  free- 
ness  of  Divine  grace,  and  the  infinite  wortliiness  of  the  Lord  .Jesus  Christ,  whicli  I 
trust  was  made  to  my  soul  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  at  once  changed  my  views  and  dispo- 
sitions; and,  from  that  time,  I  devoted  myself  to  the  service  of  God,  thinking  it  my 
duty  to  glorify  God  in  this  way.  Jly  qualiflcations  have  been  judged  of  by  others. 
My  conscience  acquits  me  of  having  any  mercenary  views:  a  decent,  comfortable  sub- 
sistence, while  I  continue  in  this  vale  of  tears,  is  all  the  present  reward  that  I  desire." 

His  first  sermon  veas  preached  at  Portsmouth  in  the  pulpit  of  his  friend, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Haven,  and,  for  several  succeeding  months,  he  was  engaged 
chiefly  in  preaching  for  his  brethren  in  different  parishes  in  that  neighbour- 
hood. His  services  met  with  uncommon  acceptance  ;  and,  in  July,  1706, 
he  was  invited  to  preach  at  Dover,  as  an  assistant  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cash- 
ing,* who  was  disabled  in  a  great  measure,  by  bodily  infirmity.  He 
accepted  the  invitation,  and,  before  the  close  of  the  following  winter, 
received  a  formal  call  to  settle  as  Mr.  Cushing's  colleague,  which  also,  after 
mature  reflection,  he  accepted.  There  was,  however,  one  difiiculty  in  the 
way  of  his  acceptance  of  the  call,  which,  but  for  their  very  strong  attach- 
ment to  him,  would  probably  have  been  insurmountable.  The  church  had 
been  accustomed  to  receive  members  on  the  plan  of  the  Half  Way  Cove- 
nant; which,  from  a  careful  examination  of  the  subject,  he  was  fully  per- 
suaded was  unscriptural  and  of  evil  tendency.  He  distinctly  announced  to 
them  that  he  could  never  practically  recognize  that  principle,  as  a  minister; 
that  "  he  could  admit  none  to  the  privilege  of  communion,  unless  they  gave 

•Jonathan  Gushing  vra-s  a  native  of  Ilingham;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1712; 
was  ordained  at  L)ovcr,  N.  H.,  September  18,  1717;  and  died  March  25,  1769,  aged  seventy- 
nine. 


JEREMY    BELKNAP.  75 

eviJence  sufficient  for  a  cliaritable  hope  that  thoy  had  believed  in  Jesus  to 
the  saving  of  their  souls."  The  church  yielded  to  his  wishes,  and,  from 
that  time,  the  Half  Way  Covenant  had  no  existence  among  them.  His 
Ordination  took  place  on  the  18th  of  February,  1767.  The  Sermon  on  the 
occasion  was  preached  by  tlie  Rev.  Mr.  Haven,  of  Portsmouth. 

In  June  succeeding  his  ordination,  he  was  married  to  Ruth,  daughter  of 
Samuel  Eliot,  a  respectable  bookseller,  of   Boston. 

In  1772,  in  the  prospect  of  a  military  review  which  was  to  take  place  at 
Dover,  he  was  requested,  by  his  intimate  friend.  Captain  Waldron,  to 
deliver  a  Discourse  on  the  occasion.  At  first,  he  felt  some  conscientious 
scruples,  doubting  whether,  as  a  minister  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  he  could 
consistently  perform  a  service  that  might  seem  to  lend  some  encouragement 
to  war;  but,  wlien  it  occurred  to  him,  on  further  reflection,  that  the  most 
effectual  way  of  preserving  peace  is  to  be  ready  for  war,  he  waived  his 
objections,  and  acceded  to  his  friend's  request.  The  Sermon  was  delivered 
in  the  presence  of  the  Governor  of  the  Province,  and  was  afterwards,  by 
request  of  the  officers,  published. 

Mr.    Belknap    was   never   otherwise   than   in    straitened   circumstances 

during  the  whole  period  of  his  residence  at  Dover.     But  it  seems  that  then 

as  in  later  years,  the  ladies  were  accustomed  occasionally  to  make  an  extra 

ordinary   effort   in    aid   of  the  comfort   of  their  minister  and    his    family 

The  following  record  by  Mr.  Belknap  of  a  "  spinning  match  at  his  house' 

may  give  some  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  these  friendly  offices  were  then 

performed : 

"  After  the  laudable  example  of  the  ladies  in  divers  towns  of  this  and  the  neiglibour- 
ing  Provinces,  on  Thursday  hist,  about  forty  hxdies  met  at  the  minister's  liouse  in  Dover, 
some  of  whom  brought  with  them  tlax  and  cotton  to  spin,  and  otliers  tlie  yarn  ready 
spun;  and,  after  spending  tiie  day  in  a  very  industrious  and  agreeable  manner,  they 
generously  presented  to  Mrs.  Belknaf)  the  fruits  of  their  labour,  whicii  amounted  to  two 
hundred  and  forty-two  skeins,  of  seven  knots  each,  beside  the  surplus  of  their  mate- 
rials, which  the  time  did  not  allow  them  tos])iu.  They  behaved  with  the  utmost  order 
and  decency,  and  were  entertained  with  the  best  refreshments  the  season  afforded, 
Avhich  were  kindly  and  plentifully  supplied  by  those  wlio  were  well  wishers  to  industry." 

Mr.  Belknap  had  been  a  diligent  observer  of  that  train  of  events  in 
which  the  Revolution  had  its  origin  ;  and,  with  the  spirit  of  an  earnest 
patriot,  he  was  awake  to  every  movement  that  betokened  good  or  ill  to  his 
country.  Not  only  his  voice  but  his  pen  was  put  in  requisition  in  behalf 
of  the  cause  of  freedom.  During  the  excitement  and  distress  occasioned 
by  the  Boston  Port  Act,  he  made  a  most  impressive  appeal  to  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  people  of  New  Hampshire,  in  aid  of  their  afflicted  friends  of 
the  neighbouring  metropolis ;  and,  about  the  same  time,  he  wrote  an 
Address  "To  the  Gentlemen  of  the  Army,  now  encamped  on  Boston  Com- 
mon," of  the  most  home-thrusting  and  scathing  character.  Shortly  after 
the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and  while  Boston  was  guarded  by  the 
British  troops,  he  went  thither  in  great  haste,  with  a  view  to  effect  the 
removal  of  his  parents  ;  and,  after  a  detention  of  some  time  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, he  finally  succeeded,  though  not  without  difficulty,  in  accomplish- 
ing his  object.  They  both  subsequently  lived  with  him  at  Dover.  His 
mother  died  in  1784,  aged  sixty-nine;  his  father  in  1797,  aged  eighty.one. 

In  July,  1775,  he  was  chosen,  by  the  New  Hampshire  Committee  of 
Safety,  to  be  Chaplain  to  their  troops  at  Cambridge ;  but,  owing  to  his 


76  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

precarious  health,  in  connection  with  other  circumstances,  he  felt  constrained 
to  decline  the  proffered  honour.  He,  however,  intimated  his  willingness  to 
share  such  a  service  with  the  other  ministers  of  the  Province,  provided 
Buch  an  arrangement  should  he  thought  best.  In  October  following,  he 
visited  the  camp  at  Cambridge,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  several 
of  the  most  distinguished  officers  of  the  army,  and  had  the  honour  of  dining 
•with  Dr.  Franklin,  who  was  there  on  public  business,  as  one  of  a  Committee 
from  the  Continental  Congress. 

In  July,  1784,  he  made  a  tour  to  the  White  Mountains,  in  company  with 
six  other  gentlemen, —  which,  at  that  time,  might  yell  deserve  to  be  com- 
memorated as  a  feat  in  the  line  of  travelling.  Accordingly,  we  find  that 
he  has  actually  preserved  a  record  of  it,  in  considerable  detail,  in  his  third 
volume  of  the  History  of  New  Hampshire  ;  though  he  makes  no  allusion  to 
the  circumstance  of  his  having  himself  been  one  of  the  party. 

In  June,  1785,  he  preached  the  Annual  Election  Sermon  before  the 
General  Court  of  New  Hampshire,  which  was  published.  The  subject  of 
it  was  "  the  True  Interest  of  the  State,  and  the  Best  Means  of  Promoting 
its  Pro:<perity."  It  is  a  highly  patriotic  and  well-reasoned  production, 
and  contains  sentiments  worthy  to  be  pondered  and  reduced  to  practice  by 
each  successive  generation. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  Mr.  Belknap  made  a  journey  to  Phila- 
delphia, chiefly  with  a  view  to  visit  his  son,  who  had  been  sent  thither  to 
learn  the  printer's  trade.  He  was  treated  in  Pliiladelphia,  as  well  as  the 
intervening  places  at  which  he  stopped,  with  great  respect  and  attention. 
He  preached  for  several  distinguished  clergymen,  of  difi"ereut  denominations, 
and  was  delighted  with  what  seemed  to  him  evidence  of  a  growing  spirit  of 
charity.  It  tells  well  for  the  spirit  of  enterprise  in  the  department  of  trav- 
elling,  at  that  early  day,  that  he  left  New  York  in  the  stnge-coach  between 
three  and  four  in  the  morning,  and  was  safely  set  down  in  Philadelphia  at 
sunset. 

Prom  the  commencement  of  his  ministry  at  Dover,  he  had  been  subjected 
to  no  little  pecuniary  embarrassment,  by  reason  of  the  failure  of  his  congre- 
gation to  fulfil  their  engagement  in  respect  to  his  salary.  At- length  the 
evil  bec;ime  so  great  that  he  felt  that  both  his  duty  and  his  interest  forbade 
his  farther  endurance  of  it.  Accordingly,  in  September,  1786,  he  resigned 
his  pastoral  charge.  He  had,  at  the  time,  no  other  place  of  settlement  in 
his  eye,  while  yet  he  had  a  family  dependent  for  support  on  his  exertions. 
Several  literary  projects  were  proposed  to  him  ;  but,  notwithstanding  his 
taste  might  be  supposed  to  lead  him  in  that  direction,  he  declined  them  on 
the  ground  that  he  had  consecrated  himself  permanently  to  the  Christian 
ministry. 

In  1784,  his  first  volume  of  the  History  of  New  Hampshire  was  pub- 
lished, under  the  superintendence  of  Ebenezer  Hazard,  Esq.,  of  Pliiladel. 
phia.  The  second  and  third  volumes  were  published  at  Boston  in  1791 
and  1792.  The  idea  of  such  a  work  seems  to  have  occurred  to  him  as 
early  as  1772;  and  it  occupied  his  attention,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
from  that  time  till  its  conipletion.  The  project  at  an  early  period  found 
favour  with  his  friend  Governor  Wentworth,  who  cheerfully  gave  him  access 
to  his  papers,  and  in  ev&fy  way  lent  him  whatever  aid  was  in  his  power. 


JEREMY    BELKNAP.  77 

A  recent  edition  of  the  first  two  volumes  of  the  work  has  been  published, 
with  illustrative  notes,  by  the  late  John  Farmer.  It  is  unnecessary  to  add 
any  thing  in  commendation  of  a  work  that  has,  like  this,  long  since  taken 
its  place  among  the  standard  productions  in  this  department  of  our  lite- 
rature. 

After  resigning  his  charge  at  Dover,  he  preached  successively,  for  some 
time,  at  Exeter,  Concord,  Beverly,  and  some  other  places.  While  he  was 
at  Exeter,  an  insurrection  occurred  there,  which  is  somewhat  memorable  in 
the  annals  of  New  Hampshire,  and  of  which  his  History  of  the  State  con- 
tains a  minute  and  interesting  account.  The  Church  in  Long  Lane,  (now 
Federal  street,)  Boston,  having  exchanged  the  Presbyterian  for  the  Con- 
gregational furm  of  government,  and  being  at  that  time  vacant,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  Rev.  Robert  Annan  having  been,  a  short  time  before, 
dismissed,  by  his  own  request,  Mr.  Belknap  was  called,  in  January,  1787, 
to  take  the  pastoral  charge  of  it.  The  engagement  of  the  Society  was  as 
follows  : — 

"  We  promise  to  pay  him  for  liis  support,  from  the  time  he  commences  his  charge, 
the  sum  of  two  pounds,  eiglit  shillings,  lawful  nione}-,  per  week,  or  quarterly,  if  he 
cliooses  it,  during  the  wtiole  time  of  his  mi.iistry  among  us;  and,  in  case  our  society 
shall  increase,  and  the  pews  be  all  occupied,  the  salary  shall  then  be  increased  to  a 
comfortable  support." 

Mr.  Belknap,  in  due  time,  signified  his  acceptance  of  their  invitation; 
and  he  was  actually  installed  as  their  Pastor  on  the  4th  of  April  fuHowing. 
Between  the  time  of  his  acceptance  of  tlie  call  and  his  installation,  a  cir. 
cumstance  occurred  which  drew  from  him  a  distinct  statement  of  his  views 
concerning  the  doctrine  of  retribution.  An  anonymous  letter  was  addressed 
to  one  of  tiie  Deacons  of  the  church,  intimating  that  the  man  whom  they 
had  chosen  to  be  their  Pastor  was  a  L^niversalist  of  the  Murray  school, 
and  recommending  to  them  to  propose  to  him  certain  questions  with  a  view 
to  oblige  him  to  declare  himself.  The  letter  was  immediately  put  into  his 
hands,  and,  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  when  the  committee  met  to 
make  the  arrangements  for  his  installation,  he  availed  himself  of  the 
opportunity  to  spread  before  them  the  anonymous  communication,  with  the 
comments  which  he  thought  proper  to  make  upon  it.     He  says, — 

"  My  practice  has  always  been  to  study  the  Scriptures  in  order  to  tind  out  truth  and 
duty.  What  there  appears  sutficient  evidence  fori  admit  as  truth:  where  the  evi- 
dence is  not  sutficient  to  induce  belief,  I  allow  myself  to  doubt.  This  everj'  man  has 
a  right  to  do. 

"  As  to  the  controversy  about  Murray,  I  never  conversed  with  him  but  once — what 
he  said  was  new  and  strange.  On  examining  my  Bible,  I  saw  no  reason  to  admit  it, 
and  therefore  passed  it  by. 

"  Some  years  ago,  Murray  came  into  my  parish.  Some  people  wished  to  hear  him, 
and  asked  me  for  the  liberty  of  the  pulpit.  I  said  it  was  mine  when  I  wanted  it,  and 
theirs  when  they  pleased  to  use  it.  They  got  him  to  preach.  I  did  not  attend;  but, 
understanding  that  he  had  been  on  the  parable  of  the  tares  and  wheat,  I  took  the  lib- 
erty, as  I  thought  was  my  duty,  to  preach  the  next  Sabbath  against  what  I  deemed 
the  errors  adopted  by  his  followers."  [Here  he  read  the  sermon.]  "  These  were 
then  my  sentiments,  and  they  are  the  same  now.  I  never  had  a  doubt  that  faith, 
repentance  and  holiness,  or  a  change  from  a  state  of  sin  to  newness  of  life,  is  neces- 
sary to  prepare  us  for  Heaven. 

'•  Whan  the  Chauncy  controversy  came  abroad,  wliich  engaged  every  body's  atten- 
tion more  or  less,  it  was  natural  for  me  to  incline  to  one  side  or  the  other.  I  was 
inclined  to  call  in  question  the  immortality  of  the  wicked  in  a  state  of  future  punish- 
ment, though  I  had  no  doubt  of  the  certainty  of  the  punishment.  There  are  difficul- 
ties attending  the  subject  on  every  side  in  which  it  can  be  viewed;  and,  after  much 
thought  upon  the  matter,  I  am  inclined  to  this  opinion ; — that  the  revelation  which 


78  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

God  has  civcn  us  in  the  Scripturo&  is  intended  to  regulate  our  present  conduct  in  this 
world,  and  to  give  us  to  understand  what  will  bo  the  consequences,  in  the  future  state, 
of  our  good  anil  bad  behaviour  here. 

"  1  bjlicve  the  resurrection  uf  the  Just  and  the  unjust ;  that  the  life  which  the  just  shall 
reci'ive  from  Ciirist  at  their  resurrection  will  be  immortal;  and  that  they  sliall  never 
die  any  more;  but  doubt  whether  it  can  be  proved  t'rom  the  Scriptures  that  tlie  life 
whicli  the  wiv;ked  shall  rec^'ive  at  their  resurrection  is  immortal — if  it  can,  it  will  fol- 
low that  tlieir  misery  will  never  end; — but  am  rather  inclined  to  think  that  the  life 
wliich  tliey  will  then  receive  will  be  a  mortal  life,  that  they  will  be  subject  to  a  series  of 
misery  anil  torment  which  will  terminate  in  a  second  death.  Whether  this  second  death 
is  an  utter  extinction  of  being,  or  whether  they  will  be  delivered  Irom  it  by  another 
resurrection,  are  points  wliich  1  cannot  determine,  nor  do  I  think  the  Scripture  affords 
us  full  satisfaction  on  these  subJL'cts;  so  that  I  expect  no  full  solution  in  this  world, 
and  am  fully  contented  with  believing  that  the  surest  way  for  us  is  to  believe  in  Christ, 
to  fear  God.  and  work  righteousness  in  obedience  to  the  Gospel,  and  thus  secure  our 
own  happiness,  without  prying  too  curiously  into  the  secret  and  future  designs  of  God. 
The  Apostles  tliemselves  declare. — ■  We  know  but  in  part,  and  we  prophecy  but  in  part.' 
If  the  chosen  and  inspired  ambassadors  of  Jesus  Christ  were  imperfect  in  their  know- 
ledge, how  can  we  expect  perfection  in  this  life? 

'■  lt\  upon  this  declaration  of  ray  mind,  you  see  fit  to  recommend  to  the  Society  to 
recall  the  invitation  they  have  given  me  to  settle  with  you,  I  am  content." 

The  committee,  though  some  of  them  differed  from  him  ia  respect  to 
the  general  subject,  were  yet  so  far  satisfied  with  this  exposition  of  his 
views,  that  they  proceeded  without  delay  to  make  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  his  induction  to  his  charge. 

For  some  time  after  liis  settlement  at  Boston,  several  circumstances  con- 
curred to  render  his  worldly  condition  scarcely  less  easy  than  it  had  been 
at  Dover.  He  had  been  a  loser  rather  than  a  gainer  by  publishing  the 
first  volume  of  his  History  ;  and  his  salary  was  altogether  an  inadequate 
support  for  his  family.  In  consequence  of  this,  he  consented  to  instruct  a 
few  young  men  in  his  own  house;  though  this  necessity  continued  but  a  few 
years,  as  the  ability  of  the  Society  had  so  far  increased  in  1792,  that  they 
were  enabled  to  advance  his*  salary  to  an  adequate  living. 

In  March  1789,  he  was  sorely  afllicted  by  the  death  of  a  beloved  child. 

He  made  the  following  affecting  record  of  the  event: — 

"  March  28:  This  evening,  at  half  after  nine  o'clock,  my  dear  son  Samuel  died,  aged 
seventeen  years  and  three  months.  He  had  a  long  and  painful  illness,  which  he  bore 
witli  the  most  exemplary  patience,  and  the  nearer  he  approached  towards  his  end,  the 
more  did  his  patience  shine.  He  had  strong  exercises  of  mind  some  weeks  before  his 
death,  and  obtained  a  comfortable  hope  in  the  mercy  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  and 
gave  us  very  good  satisfaction  respecting  his  repentance  and  faith  in  Christ  for  salva- 
tion. His  senses  held  till  a  few  minutes  before  he  expired.  I  asked  him  whether  he 
could  commit  himself  into  the  hands  of  Christ;  he  answered,  with  a  strong  and  lively 
voice,  '  Yes.'  I  asked  him  if  he  had  a  good  hope  of  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ:  he 
answered  '  Yes.'  I  then  prayed  with  him — this  was  about  half  an  hour  before  he  died. 
Blessed  be  God  for  tlie  consolation  we  have  in  his  death.  He  was  a  faithful,  useful, 
diligent  and  affectionate  child." 

In  1792,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College.  Ilis  great  modesty  would  have  prompted  him  to  decline 
the  honour,  and  he  was  actually  on  the  point  of  doing  it,  when  he  was  dis- 
suaded by  his  friend  Dr.  John  Clarke,  on  the  ground  that  it  would  seem 
ungrateful  and  uncivil  toward  the  institution  by  which  it  had  been  conferred. 

*  Mr.  Belknap  had,  for  many  j'cars,  been  deeply  interested  for  the  freedom  of  the  blacks. 
The  subject  had  occupied  both  his  mind  and  his  pen  during  the  Revolutionary  War;  but,  in 
the  year  1788,  he  actually  drew  up  a  petition  to  the  General  Court  for  the  abolition  of  the 
Slave  trade  ;  which,  being  seconded  by  his  brethren  in  the  ministry  of  various  denominations, 
as  well  as  by  a  large  number  of  other  respectable  citizens,  actually  prevailed  to  the  pas- 
sage of  the  desired  Act.  He  afterwards  corresponded  on  this  subject  with  Moses  Brown,  the 
well  known  philanthropi.st  of  Providence,  and  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Society  for 
Abolishing  the  Slave  trade  in  Rhode  Island. 


JEREMY    BELKNAP.  79 

In  the  course  of  this  year  he  published  a  work,  entitled  "  The  Foresters: 
an  American  Tale  ;  being  a  Sequel  to  the  History  of  John  Bull  the  clothier, 
in  a  series  of  Letters  to  a  Friend."  The  Letters  were  originally  a  con- 
tribution to  the  Columbian  Magazine  ;  but  were  subsequently  collected  into 
a  volume,  and,  in  that  form,  passed  through  two  editions.  The  work  is 
full  of  humour,  and  is  occupied  chiefly  with  an  account  of  the  early  settle 
ment  of  the  country,  and  the  troubles  to  which  we  were  subjected  from 
our  connection  with  Great  Britain. 

Dr.  Belknap's  taste  for  historical  research  gave  rise  to  that  noble  institu- 
tion,— the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  He  projected  the  plan  of  it 
as  early  as  1790,  and  in  1791  it  was  actually  formed.  It  was  incorporated 
in  1794,  with  the  Hon.  James  Sullivan,  President  ;  the  Rev.  James  Free- 
man, Recording  Secretary  ;  and  Dr.  Belknap,  Corresponding  Secretary, 
In  1792,  he  delivered,  by  request  of  this  Society,  a  Centennial  Discourse, 
designed  to  commemorate  the  Discovery  of  America  by  Christopher  Colum- 
bus. It  was  published,  and  is  yet  a  substantial  witness  for  its  gifted  and 
accomplished  author. 

In  1794,  he  published  the  first  volume  of  American  Biography,  entitled 
"An  Historical  Account  of  those  persons  who  have  been  distinguished  in 
America,  as  Adventurers,  Statesmen,  Philosophers,  Divines,  Warriors, 
Authors,  and  other  remarkable  characters."  He  lived  to  complete  the 
second  volume,  but  not  to  see  it  from  the  press,  as  the  printing  was  in 
progress  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He  seems  to  have  projected  this  work 
at  least  as  early  as  1779,  and  ho  must  have  been  carrying  forward  this  and 
his  History  at  the  same  time.  A  new  edition  of  it  was  published  in  1842, 
with  a  highly  commendatory  preface  from  one  who  was  well  qualified  to 
judge  of  its  merits. 

In  1795,  he  published  "  Dissertations  on  the  Character,  Death,  and 
Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Evidence  of  his  Grospel  ;  with 
Remarks  on  some  sentiments  in  a  book  entitled  'The  Age  of  Reason.'  " 
This  work  was  especially  aimed  against  the  infidelity  of  the  day,  and,  like 
every  thing  from  the  pen  of  the  same  author,  is  characterized  by  great  per- 
spicuity and  good  taste.  In  the  same  year,  he  published  his  Hymn  Book, 
concerning  which  he  says  in  his  preface, — "  In  this  selection  those  Chris- 
tians, who  do  not  scruple  to  sing  praises  to  their  Redeemer  and  Sanctifier, 
will  find  materials  for  such  a  sublime  employment ;  whilst  others,  whose 
tenderness  of  conscience  may  oblige  them  to  confine  their  addresses  to  the 
Father  only,  will  find  no  deficiency  of  matter  suited  to  their  idea  of  the 
chaste  and  awful  spirit  of  devotion."  For  many  years  this  Collection  was 
extensively  used,  particularly  in  the  churches  of  Boston  and  that  vicinity; 
but,  in  latter  years,  it  has  given  place,  perhaps  altogether,  to  more  modern 
compilations  of  a  similar  character. 

In  1796,  he  preached  the  Annual  Convention  Sermon  before  the  Con- 
gregational Clergy  of  Massachusetts.  In  it  he  illustrates  with  great  feli- 
city the  peculiar  trials  of  ministers,  especially  as  connected  with  the  then 
existing  state  of  things.  It  shows  that,  with  all  the  prudence  that  marked 
Dr.  Belknap's  character,  he  was  far  enough  from  being  lacking  in  inde- 
pendence. 


80  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  the  same  year,  he  went,  in  company  with  Dr.  Morse,  in  behalf  of  the 
Society  for  Propagating  Christian  Knowledge,  to  visit  the  Indians  at 
Oneida  and  Stockbridge,  in  the  State  of  New  York.  Notwithstanding  his 
journey  was  a  very  pleasant  one,  the  result  of  his  visit  to  the  Indians  was 
a  full  belief  that  little  was  to  be  hoped  for  in  respect  to  civilizing  or  chris- 
tianizing them.  He  withdrew  from  the  Society  shortly  after,  probably 
from  a  conviction  of  the  hopelessness  of  their  enterprise. 

For  a  year  previous  to  his  deatli,  Dr.  Belknap  was  in  constant  expecta- 
tion of  receiving  his  summons  to  depart.  He  had,  in  two  instances,  been 
slightly  affected  by  paralysis  ;  and,  though  neither  his  bodily  nor  iiis 
mental  powers  had  been  impaired,  he  was  well  aware  that  the  third  attack 
would,  in  all  probability,  terminate  his  life.  And  so  it  actually  occurred. 
In  April,  1798,  his  friend.  Dr.  Clarke  died,  and  he  (Dr.  B.)  preached  his 
Funeral  Sermon  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  prepared  a  brief  sketch  of  his 
life  and  character  for  the  Collections  of  the  Historical  Society.  Before 
the  volume  was  published,  however,  his  own  death  had  taken  place,  and 
the  memoir  of  his  friend  was  followed  immediately  by  a  memoir  of  himself. 
On  the  20th  of  June,  1798,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  was  attacked 
with  apoplexy,  and  before  eleven  he  was  a  corpse.  His  Funeral  waa 
attended  on  the  22d,  and  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Kirkland.  He  left  a  widow  and  five  children.  Mrs.  Belknap, 
a  lady  of  high  intellectual  and  moral  qualities,  and  greatly  esteemed  by  a 
large  circle  of  friends,  died  January  20,  1809. 

Dr.  Belknap  was  connected  with  several  important  literary,  philanthropic, 
and  religious  institutions.  He  was  an  Overseer  of  Harvard  College,  a 
member  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  an  honorary 
member  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society  at  Philadelphia,  a  member 
of  the  Humane  Society,  &c.  It  was  matter  of  conscience  with  him  to  dis- 
charge the  duties  belonging  to  these  various  relations  with  the  utmost 
punctuality  and  fidelity.  He  was  especially  interested  in  improving  and 
extending  the  means  of  education  ;  and  there  are  some  living  at  this  day, 
who  remember  with  the  warmest  gratitude  the  aid  and  encouragement 
which  they  received  from  him  in  the  progress  of  their  early  literary  career. 

In  addition  to  the  several  works  of  Dr.  Belknap,  already  referred  to, 
he  published  An  Elegy  on  the  Rev.  Alexander  Cumming,  1763  ;  A  Serious 
Address  to  a  Parishioner  on  the  Neglect  of  Public  Worship  ;  A  Sermon 
on  Jesus  Christ  the  only  Foundation,  preached  before  an  Association  of 
Ministers  in  New  Hampshire  ;  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Jedediah 
Morse,  1789 ;  A  Sermon  on  the  National  Fast,  1793.  Two  of  his  Ser- 
mons on  the  Institution  and  Observation  of  the  Sabbath  were  published 
after  his  death,  1801.  In  addition  to  the  above,  he  contributed  exten- 
sively to  various  periodicals  of  the  day. 

On  several  important  points  of  Christian  doctrine,  Dr.  Belknap's  views 
have  already  been  sufficiently  intimated.  AVhat  he  believed  in  respect  to 
the  Trinity  may,  perhaps,  be  gathered,  (at  least  negatively,)  from  some 
remarks  that  he  has  left,  explanatory  of  some  speculations  in  which  Dr. 
Watts,  towards  the  close  of  his  life,  indulged  on  the  same  subject.  He 
writes  thus : — 


JEREMY   BELKNAP.  81 

"  According  to  Dr.  "Watts'  viow  of  the  present  subject, — '  The  Father,  the  Word  and 
the  Holy  Ghost,  are  the  one  living  and  true  God.'  To  this  proposition  I  give  my  ready 
assent.  And  whoever  does  so,  whatever  be  his  peculiar  niode  of  exjdication,  I  will 
maintain  lias  as  just  a  chiini  to  the  character  of  Outhodox  as  tiiey  who  do  it  in  the 
Atliaiiasian  sense.  And  for  any  who  adopt  that  or  any  other  mode  of  explication,  to 
monopolize  oethodoxy  to  themselves,  is  a  degr(;e  of  presumption  unbecoming  fallible 
creatures,  especially  those  who  allow  that  the  siode  of  subsistence  in  the  Sacred  Three 
is  not  ascertained  in  Scripture;  and  indeed  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  avowed  Catholi- 
cism of  the  ablest  and  best  writers,  who  are  most  partial  to  the  general  Calvinistic 
system. 

"  With  respect  to  the  idea  of  personality,  as  applicable  to  the  Father.  Sou  and 
Spirit.  Dr.  Watts  ditfered  Irom  many  Trinitarians,  as  he  denied  (and  I  think  with 
sufficient  reason)  that  there  are  in  Deity  three  distinct  Infinite  Spirits,  or  really 
distinct  persons,  in  the  common  sense  of  that  terra,  each  having  a  distinct  intelligence, 
volition,  power,  &c.,  thinking  such  a  suppt)sition  inconsistent  with  the  proper  UNiTVOf 
the  Godliead;  which  is  doubtless  one  of  the  most  obvious  and  fundamental  doctrines 
of  revelation. 

But  it  is  to  be  remembered  that,  with  regard  to  the  definition  of  personality ,  Trinitar- 
ians widely  differ  among  themselves.  While  some  suppose  it  to  be  real,  others  think 
it  only  MODAL  or  nominal;  and  others  somewhat  between  both.  Some  of  the  two  latter 
classes  have  charged  the  former  with  Tritheisni;  and  to  me  it  seems  dilhcult  to  clear 
the  doctrine  from  the  imputation.  Nor  can  I  conceive  what  Tritheism  is,  if  this  hypoth- 
esis does  not  come  under  the  description.  To  assert  a  mere  unity  of  essence  or 
NATURE  wiil  not  obviate  the  difficulty ;  for  three  Divine  persons  or  beings,  thougli  of 
the  same  nature,  or  in  other  words,  all  of  them  exactly  alike,  (which  seem,  to  be 
the  meaning  of  the  term  and  is  the  popular  idea.)  would  be  as  really  three  Gods,  as 
three  human  persons  of  the  same  nature,  were  they  in  all  respects  alike,  would  be  three 
men.     Such  a  sentiment,  I  think,  ought  to  be  zealously  opposed  as  iieretical. 

— "'As  to  those  who  use  the  common  Trinitarian  language  in  the  Sabellian  sense, 
(which,  upon  a  close  i!K[uiry,  I  have  found  to  be  the  case  with  some,  and  have  reason 
to  think  it  so  with  man\-,)  they  have  little  reason  to  cry  out  '  heresy'  at  the  mode  of 
interpretation  for  which  I  am  here  apologizing. 

"  That  it  should  by  any  be  stigmatized  with  the  name  either  of  Socinianism  or 
Arianis.m,  appears  to  me  perfectly  uncandid  and  unjust.  The  Ante-Nicene  fathers 
adojtted  this  hypothesis.  And,  if  I  understand  the  great  Reformer  Calvin  aright,  he, 
in  like  manner,  conceived  of  the  A7ord  and  Spirit  of  God,  as  the  Wisdom  and  Power: 
of  Deity  personified.  The  pious  Mr.  Baxter  adopted  a  like  personification,  and. 
severely  reiiroves  those  orthodox  men,  who  anathematize  them  that  espouse  such  a. 
mode  of  explaining  the  Trinity.  Certain  it  is  that  Socinians  reject  such  kind  of  Ian-- 
guago,  and  disavow  the  notion  of  a  Trinity  in  any  form;  not  now  to  say  any  thing  of 
the  atonement,  which  they  universally  deny,  but  which  those  I  am  defending  as  stren-- 
uously  maintain. 

"As  to  Arians,  properly  so  called,  if  I  have  any  idea  of  their  sentiments,  they  con- 
sider the  Logos  and  the  Holy  Spirit  as  created  beings;  which  I  think  with  Dr.  Watts- 
is  an  error,  most  manifestly  repugnant  to  Scriptuie  doctrine. 

''  It  is  true  Dr.  Watts  maintained  the  man  Christ  Jesus  to  have  been  a  created  being'. . 
But  if,  on  that  account,  his  followers  are  justly  charged  with  heresy,  I  know  not  who- 
will  be  exenii)t;  for  I  suppose  all  will  allow  that  Christ  was  properly  man,  and  as  such 
created.  Some  indeed  maintain  that  he  was  a  human  person  as  really  as  any  other 
man  is  so,  and  on  this  ground  deny  that  his  Divinity  was  a  real  person,  distinct  from 
that  of  the  Father,  (for  otherwi.se  there  would  be  two  persons  in  Christ.)  while  others- 
strangely  and  arbitrarily  suppose  (to  avoid  this  last  absurdity)  that  the  manhood  of 
Christ  was  merely  a  created  nature.  But  both  allow  '  the  Deity  of  Christ  to  consist 
in  the  union  of  the  Godhead  and  the  manhood  in  the  person  of  Emanuel,  so  that  in. 
Him  God  teas  manifest  in  the  flesh.'  This  general  argument  I  look  \\\>on  as  all  that  is 
essential  to  true  orthodoxy,  and  a  sufficient  bond  of  union.  How  much  farther  Christ- 
ian charity  may  safely  extend,  it  is  not  my  present  business  to  inquire." 

The  following  estimate  of  Dr.  Belknap's  character,  as  a  minister,  is  frora. 
Dr.  Kirkland's  Sermon  at  his  Funeral. 

''  How  he  magnified  the  office  of  the  Christian  ministry,  you  and  others  who  enjoyed, 
his  ministrations,  who  joined  in  his  prayers,  who  listened  to  his  preaching,  and  saw 
him  in  the  private  duties  of  his  station,  can  better  conceive  than  I  describe.  If  a 
judicious  and  seasonable  choice  of  subjects,  pertinency  of  thoughts,  clearness  of  method, 
and  warmth  of  application;  if  language  plain  and  perspicuous,  polished  and  nervous;, 
if  striking  illustrations,  if  evangelical  doctrines  and  motives;  if  a  serious-ness  and  fer- 
vour evincing  that  the  preacher's  own  mind  was  affected;  if  a  pronunciation  free  and^ 
natural,  distinct  and  emphatical,  are  excellences  in  public  teaching,  yo-a,  my  brethrerK 

Vol.  VIII.  6 


82  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

of  this  society,  liavc  possessed  them  in  your  deceased  pastor.  Your  attention  was 
never  drawn  from  the  great  practical  views  of  the  Gospel  by  the  needless  introduction 
of  controversial  subjects,  and  your  minds  perplexed,  nor  your  devotional  feelings 
damped,  by  the  cold  subtleties  of  metaphysic.  His  preaching  was  designed  to  make 
you  good  and  hajjpy,  and  not  to  gain  your  applause;  whilst  the  manner  as  well  as 
matter  was  suited  to  attl-ct  the  heart,  no  attempt  was  made  to  overbear  your  imagina- 
tions, and  excite  your  passions  by  clanioious  and  affected  tones. 

"  You  are  witnesses  what  is  lost  no  less  in  private  conduct  and  example,  than  in 
public  ministrations,  how  well  his  life  became  his  doctrine;  how  the  divine,  moral  and 
social  virtues  appeared  in  him  in  the  various  scenes  of  life,  in  the  hours  of  adversity 
and  in  his  intercourse  with  his  people.  You  are  witnesses  how  kind  and  inofleusive, 
yet  plain  and  sincere,  was  his  demeanour  towards  you;  how  tender  and  sympathetic 
were  his  feelings;  tor  he  could  say, — 'Who  is  weak  and  I  am  not  weak?  Who  is 
offended  and  1  burn  not?  Have  I  not  wept  with  him  who  was  in  trouble?'  You  are 
witnesses  how  useful  was  his  conversation,  how  simple  and unafiected  werehis  manners. 
The  sick  are  witnesses  of  his  attention,  his  fidelity,  and  tenderness,  in  comforting  the 
believing,  in  warning  the  sinner,  and  confirming  the  doubtful.  The  unreasonable  and 
censorious  are  witnesses  of  his  patience  and  indulgence;  the  unbelieving  of  his  desire 
to  convince  them  ;  the  afflicted  and  desi)ondent  of  the  sweetness  of  his  consolations  and 
his  gentle  encouragement ;  the  poor  of  his  ready  advice  and  assistance,  and,  to  the  extent 
of  his  abilities,  his  alms;  the  rich  of  his  Christian  independence  united  with  a  becoming 
complaisance;  and  the  profligate  of  his  grief  for  their  dei)ravity,  of  his  utter  disappro- 
bation of  their  characters." 

FROM  THE  HON.  JOSIAH  QUINCY,  LL.  1)., 

PRESIDENT  or  HARVARD  COLLEGE. 

Boston,  28th  February,  1848. 

Dear  Sir:  I  have  but  recently  received  your  favour  requesting  my  personal 
reminiscences  of  Dr.  Belknap.  They  are  few,  and  will  add  little  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  his  character,  which  may  be  gathered  from  the  Memoir  of  him  pub- 
lished by  his  granddaughter,  and  from  contemporaneous  notices. 

The  habit  of  his  body  was  plethoric,  and  indicated  a  tendency  to  apoplexy, 
of  which  he  died.  His  general  aspect  was  heavy,  and  of  that  mixed  impres- 
sion convej^ed  by  an  acquaintance  Avith  mankind,  superinduced  on  a  studious 
and  retired  life.  There  was  a  suavity  in  his  manner,  which  won  an  interest 
for  what  he  said,  combined  with  a  simplicity  both  of  language  and  bearing, 
the  eflect  of  which  I  cannot  better  express  than  by  calling  it  taking. 

In  conversation  he  was  unobtrusive,  never  assuming  to  lead,  and  his  par- 
taking in  it  seemed  rather  a  deference  to  the  apparent  expectation,  or  expressed 
wish,  of  others,  than  any  particular  desire  of  his  own.  When  he  did  speak, 
'he  never  failed  to  satisfy;  for  it  was  always  to  the  point,  often  pithy,  and,  if 
the  subject  admitted,  a  flash  of  wit  would  enliven  his  thought,  and  show  that 
an  electric  power  resided  under  that  heavy  and  clouded  brow.  Kindness  and 
good-humour  predominated  both  in  his  look  and  address.  He  possessed  a 
natural  vein  of  humour,  of  which  something  is  shown  in  his  Tale  of  <<  The 
Foresters,"  and  which,  Avhen  touched  by  the  occasion,  gave  a  quiet,  yet  stimu- 
lating, raciness  to  his  remarks. 

To  young  men — and  I  speak  from  knowledge  in  this  respect,  for  I  stood  in 
that  relation  to  him — his  affability  was  uniform  and  encouraging,  and  he  could 
adapt  himself  with  facility  and  felicitj'',  in  conduct  and  conversation,  to  their 
years  and  their  measure  of  information. 

X)f  his  attainments  and  qualities  as  a  divine  or  a  scholar,  I  do  not  pretend 
here  to  give  an  opinion.  I  contine  myself,  as  j'^ou  requested,  to  my  <<  personal 
renxitti-scences." 

Undoubtedly  he  was  a  man  greatly  respected  and  beloved  by  his  contem- 
poraries. He  filled  a  wide  space  in  the  history  of  his  own  time,  which  the 
events  of  the  future,  however  crowded  may  be  the  canvass  with  distinguished 
men,  cannot  wholly  obliterate  from  memory.     I  am,  Sir,  with  respect, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

JOSIAH  QUINOY. 


JOSEPH    THAXTER.  83 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  May  20,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  was  contemporary  with  Dr.  Belknap  in  the  ministry  a  little 
more  than  a  year.  My  acquaintance  with  him  was,  by  no  means,  intimate, 
but  I  knew  enough  of  him  to  form  a  definite  idea  of  his  character,  and  to  learn 
to  regard  him  with  very  high  respect.  His  features  M'ere  small,  and  his  face 
much  pitted  with  the  small-pox.  His  talents  and  acquirements  were  univer- 
sally acknowledged  to  be  of  a  high  order,  and  few  of  his  contemporaries  in 
the  ministry  shared  more  largely  than  he  in  public  favour.  His  prayers  in 
public  were  but  little  varied,  and  he  was  almost  motionless  in  the  pulpit. 
Scarcely  did  he  appear  even  to  move  his  lips.  Still  he  was  always  listened  to 
with  attention,  on  account  of  the  vigorous  tone  of  thought,  and  perspicuity 
of  expression,  which  pervaded  all  his  public  performances.  As  a  striking 
instance  of  both  his  reserve  in  speaking  and  his  facility  in  writing.  Dr.  Free- 
man, who  knew  him  intimately,  told  me  that,  in  "Society  meetings,"  he 
would  often  choose  to  express  what  he  had  to  say  to  a  neighbour  by  writing 
rather  than  by  speaking. 

One  of  Dr.  Belknap's  most  intimate  friends  was  Dr.  Clarke,  whom  he  sur- 
vived only  about  twelve  weeks.  Never  shall  I  lose  the  impression  of  the 
touching  and  beautiful  tribute  which  Dr.  Belknap  paid  to  the  memory  of  his 
friend  at  the  next  Thursday  Lecture  after  their  separation  took  place,  when  he 
took  for  his  text  that  tender  and  beautiful  expression  of  our  Saviour  concern- 
ing Lazarus, — '<  Our  friend — sleepeth."  His  whole  heart  was  in  his  utterances, 
and  the  whole  audience  seemed  moved  by  a  common  sympathy. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

JOHN  PIERCE. 


JOSEPH   THAXTER.* 

1771—1827. 

Joseph  Thaxteb,  the  eldest  son  of  Deacon  Joseph  and  Mary  (Leavitt) 
Thaxter,  was  born  in  Hingham,  April  23,  1742.  When  he  was  five  years 
old,  he  was  confined  for  a  long  time,  by  a  fever-sore  upon  his  ancle,  and 
during  this  period  began  to  evince  a  fondness  for  study,  that  formed  one 
of  the  prominent  characteristics  of  his  subsequent  life.  His  father  was  a 
farmer  in  comfortable  worldly  circumstances,  but  was  not  able  to  gratify  his 
son's  desire  for  a  liberal  education.  The  son,  however,  succeeded,  in  a  some- 
what singular  way,  in  accomplishing  the  object  for  himself.  By  the  strict- 
est economy  he  was  enabled  to  lay  by  for  himself  the  sum  of  five  dollars, 
and  with  this  purchased  a  ticket  in  a  lottery,  which  drew  a  prize  of  five 
hundred  dollars.  Immediately  after  this,  he  commenced  a  course  of  study 
preparatory  for  College,  and,  in  due  time,  entered  at  Harvard,  and,  by  the 
most  careful  management,  in  connection  with  teaching  a  school  at  Hingham 
and  one  or  two  other  places,  and  the  performance  of  certain  services  in 
College  for  which  he  received  compensation,  he  was  enabled  to  pass  through 
the  whole  course  without  any  material  interruption,  and  graduated  in  1768. 

*  Mss.  from  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Atheam. 


84  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

It  seems  to  have  been  liis  original  intention  to  enter  the  medical  profes- 
sion, and,  for  some  time  after  he  graduated,  his  studies  were  directed  with 
reference  to  that ;  but  he  subsequently  changed  his  purpose,  and  determined 
to  devote  liirnself  to  the  Christian  ministry.  Accordingly,  having  prose- 
cuted his  theological  studies  for  some  time  under  the  direction  of  the  Hev. 
Dr.  Gay,  in  his  native  place,  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  and  actually  com- 
menced preaching,  sometime  in  the  year  1771. 

It  i.s  nut  known  where  Mr.  Thaxter  exercised  his  ministry  for  some  time 
after  he  began  to  preach,  but  it  is  known  that,  from  the  commencement  of  the 
llcvolution,  he  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  cause  of  his  country's  Indepen- 
dence, and  was  ready  to  labour  for  it,  in  the  pulpit  or  out  of  it,  as  he  found 
opportunity.  He  was  present  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  and  of  Concord 
Bridge,  and  retained  a  vivid  remembrance  of  those  fearfully  stirring  scenes 
till  the  close  of  life.  On  the  23d  of  January,  1776,  he  received  a  com- 
mission as  Chaplain  in  the  army,  and  served  in  that  capacity  at  Cambridge, 
in  difierent  parts  of  New  Jersey,  at  the  battle  of  White  Plains  in  the  State 
of  New  York,  and  in  various  other  places.  The  exact  time  of  his  holdinf' 
the  Chaplaincy  is  not  ascertained,  but  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  for  two 
or  three  years.  Previous  to  his  settlement,  he  preached  as  a  candidate  iu 
a  rich  farming  town  on  Connecticut  Biver.  The  Committee  of  the  Church 
or  Parish  informed  him  that  he  was  invited,  by  a  unanimous  vote,  to  become 
their  Pastor.  lie  afterwards  learned,  however,  that  this  statement  was  not 
strictly  correct,  there  having  been  one  or  two  votes  adverse  to  his  settlement ; 
and  so  much  was  he  displeased  with  what  he  deemed  a  deceptive  represen- 
tation of  the  case  that  he  immediately  wrote  a  sermon  on  the  text, — "I 
hear  that  there  be  divisions  among  you,  and  I  partly  believe  it  ;"  and, 
having  preached  the  sermon,  he  very  unceremoniously  took  leave  of  the 
people.  He  accepted  a  call  from  the  Church  in  Edgarton,  Martha's  Vine- 
yard, and  was  ordained  and  installed  there  in  the  year  1780.  His  salary 
was  originally  a  hundred  pounds  annually,  but,  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
life,  it  was  reduced  to  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars.  Small  as  it 
was,  however,  he  not  only  supported  his  family  upon  it,  but  educated  five 
orphan  children. 

Not  far  from  the  period  of  his  settlement  at  Edgarton,  he  spent  some 
time  as  a  missionary  in  what  was  then  the  District  of  Maine.  lie  was 
received  with  great  favour  by  all  classes,  and  in  one  town  administered 
Baptism  to  more  than  a  hundred  persons,  many  of  whom  belonged  to  Epis- 
copal  families.  Of  this  mission  he  retained  the  most  grateful  recollections 
till  the  close  of  life. 

Mr.  Thaxter,  some  time  previous  to  his  settlement,  had  become  strongly 
attached  to  a  young  lady  in  Hingham,  who  he  had  expected  would  become 
his  wife;  but  she  died  shortly  after,  to  his  great  grief  and  disappointment. 
At  his  Ordination,  his  father  and  some  other  relatives  from  Hingham  were 
present,  and,  after  the  services  were  over,  he  accompanied  them  to  the 
wharf,  saw  them  safely  on  board  the  packet,  and  then  returned  to  his 
boarding  house,  oppressed  with  a  sense  not  only  of  responsibility  but  of 
isolation  and  loneliness.  A  young  lady  who  was  visiting  in  the  family  in 
which  he  boarded,  (Molly,  daughter  of  llobert  Allen  of  Chilmark,)  met 
him  with  great  kindness,  and  proffered  to  him  her  sympathy  in  view  of  his 


JOSEPH    THAXTER.  85 

manifest  feeling  of  desolation,  and  her  kindly  expressions  touched  a  respon- 
sive chord  in  his  heart,  and  thus  hegan  a  friendship  which  resulted  in  their 
being  married  within  about  a  year, —  October  12.  1781.  They  had  seven 
children,  three  of  whom — and  among  them  the  Hon.  Leavitt  Thaxter  — 
still  (1863)  survive.  Mrs.  Thaxter,  who  was  a  lady  of  great  benevolence 
and  excellence  of  character,  died  in  1802,  at  the  age  of  forty-four.  Oa 
the  23d  of  July,  1803,  Mr.  Thaxter  was  married  to  Ann,  daughter  of  Sam. 
uel  Smith,  who  became  the  mother  of  one  daughter,  and  died  in  1821,  aged 
fifty-nine  years. 

Mr.  Thaxter  suflfered  some  other  severe  domestic  afflictions.  One  of  his 
children,  Robert,  a  boy  of  uncommon  promise,  died  of  lockjaw,  in  March, 
1805,  having  been  blind,  for  two  years,  in  consequence,  as  was  supposed,  of 
bis  having  taken  of  a  poisonous  vegetable.  In  February,  1815,  he  lost  his 
eldest  son,  Joseph,  under  circumstances  of  the  most  trying  nature.  A  whale 
ship  had  arrived  at  Edgarton,  and  two  of  the  crew,  who  belonged  in  Nan- 
tucket, were  very  anxious  to  reach  their  homes.  Joseph  Thaxter,  who 
was,  at  that  time,  a  married  man,  and  lived  with  his  father,  started,  in  an 
open  boat,  in  company  with  another  person,  to  carry  them  to  Nantucket. 
The  boat  had  come  witliin  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  Nantucket  shore, 
when  it  was  upset  amidst  thick  broken  pieces  of  ice,  and  all  were  lost  except 
Mr.  Thaxter's  friend  who  had  accompanied  him,  and  who,  by  great  exertion, 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  shore.  Two  weeks  and  two  days  passed,  and  no 
tidings  came  concerning  any  of  the  party.  IJnt,  on  the  morning  of  the 
seventeenth  day,  as  Mr.  Thaxter  rose  from  his  knees,  at  the  close  of  his  prayer 
in  the  fimily,  one  of  the  Deacons  of  his  chnich  entered  the  room  in  which 
the  family  were  assembled,  with  an  air  and  a  look  ominous  of  evil  tidings. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  until  Mr.  Thaxter  at  length  nerv^-d  himself  to 
ask, — '-Are  those  poor  creatures  gone?" —  to  which  Dr.  Mayhew  sadly  and 
silently  bowed  his  assent.  In  the  afternoon  of  ihe  same  day,  the  remains 
of  tlie  son  were  brought  over  the  deep  banks  of  snow  to  be  buried  from  his 
father's  house.  x\s  the  roads  were  nearly  impassable,  it  was  impossible  to 
procure  a  minister  from  another  town  to  attend  the  Funeral,  and  the  service 
Avas  therefore  performed  by  the  afflicted  father  himself.  The  prayer  which 
he  offered  on  the  occasion  is  said  to  have  been  characterized  by  great  sim- 
plicity, and  yet  by  the  very  sublimity  of  pathos. 

Tiiere  was  but  little  variety  in   the  events  of  Mr.  Thaxter's  life,  living 

as  he  did  in  great  seclusion,  and  scarcely  ever  engaging  in  any  service  that 

took  him  beyond  his  inunediate  neighbourhood.       Towards  the  close  of  his 

life,  however,   an  event  occurred,  of  great  historical  interest,  in  his  being 

called  upon,    on   the    17th  of  June,  1825,  to    officiate    as   Chaplain   at   the 

laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  Bunker  Hill   Monument.      This   was  the 

last  time  that  he  ever  left    the  Island.       The    following    Prayer,  which    he 

offered  on  that  occasion,  derived  additional  impressiveness  from  the  fact  that 

he  had  then  passed  his  eightieth  year: 

"  0,  thou  who  rulest  in  the  armies  of  Heaven,  and  docst  whatsoever  seemetli  to  thee 
good  among  the  children  of  men  bulow,  we  desire,  at  tliis  time,  to  remember  thy  loving 
kindness  to  our  pious  ancestors  in  rescuing  them  from  a  land  of  intolerance  and  per- 
secution. We  thank  thee  that  thou  ddst  conduct  them  in  safety  through  the  mighty 
deep  to  tliis  then  howling  wilderness;  tliat  thou  didst  protect  and  defend  them  when 
few  and  jielpless.  "We  thank  thee  that,  by  thy  blessing  on  their  endeavours  and 
labours,  the  wilderness  was  soon  made  to  blossom  like  the  rose.     We  thank  thee  that 


86  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

thou  didst  animate  them  with  au  invincible  attachment  to  religion  and  liberty, — that 
they  adopted  sucli  wise  institutions.  We  thank  thee  tjiat  they  so  early  established  our 
University,  from  which  have  flowed  such  streams  as  have  made  glad  the  cities  of  our 
God;  that  thou  hast  raised  up  of  our  own  sons,  wise,  learned  and  brave,  to  guide  ia 
the  great  and  important  affairs  both  of  Cliurch  and  State.  May  thy  blessing  rest  on 
that  Seminary,  and  continue  it  ft)r  a  name  and  ])raise  as  long  as  sun  and  moon  sliall 
endure.  Wo  thank  thee  that,  by  the  wisdom  and  fortitude  of  our  fathers,  every 
attempt  to  infringe  our  riglits  and  jirivilege.s  was  defeated,  and  that  we  were  never  in 
bondage  to  any.  We  thank  thee  that,  wlien  our  country  was  invaded  by  the  armies 
of  the  mother  country,  thuu  didst  raise  up  wise  counsellors  and  unshaken  patriots, 
who,  at  the  risk  of  life  and  fortune,  not  only  defended  our  country,  but  raised  it  to  the 
rank  of  a  nation  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  A\^e  thank  thee  that  thou  hast 
blessed  us  with  a  constitution  ol"  government,  which,  if  duly  administered,  secures  to 
all,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  their  invaluable  rights  and  privileges.  We  ask  thy 
blessing  on  our  President  and  Congress,  on  our  Governors  and  Legislatcu's,  on  our 
Judges  and  all  our  civil  ofhcers.  Make  them,  we  bcseecli  thee,  ministers  of  God  for 
good  to  thy  jjeople.  Bless  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  and  make  them  happy  instru- 
ments in  thine  hands  for  destroying  Satan's  King<lom,  and  building  up  the  Ke- 
deemer's.  We  thank  thee  that,  in  thy  good  ])rovidence,  we  are  assembled  to  lay  the 
I'oundation  of  a  monument,  not  for  the  piir))ose  of  idolatry,  but  a  standing  monument 
to  the  rising  and  future  generations,  that' they  may  be  excited  to  search  the  history  of 
our  country,  and  learn  to  know  the  greatness  of  thy  loving-kindness  to  our  nation. 
May  the  service  of  this  day  be  performed  under  the  most  profound  awe  of  thy  glorious 
Majesty,  and  be  an  acceptable  sacrilice.  We  thank  thee  for  the  unparalleled  progress 
and  improvement  in  arts  and  sciences,  in  agriculture  and  manufactures,  in  navigation 
and  commeice,  whereby  our  land  has  become  the  glory  of  all  lands.  We  thank  thee 
that  the  light  which  came  from  the  East,  and  has  enlightened  tlie  Western  world,  is 
now  reflected  back,  and  that  the  nations  of  Europe  are  now  learning  lessons  of  wisdom 
from  our  infant  nation.  We  pray  thee  that  these  rays  may  be  s[)read  and  shine  witn 
greater  power,  until  the  rod  oi  oppression  shall  be  broken. through  the  whole  world 
and  all  mankind  become  wise,  and  free,  and  happy.  We  humbly  ask  and  offer  all  i  i 
the  name  of  .Jesus  Christ,  our  great  and  glorious  Mediator,  through  -whom  be  glory 
unto  God  the  Father,  now  and  forever,  Amen." 

Mr.  Thaxter  continued  to  enjoy  his  usual  health  until  witliin  about  a 
year  of  hi.s  death.  The  di.sease  of  wliich  he  died  was  a  chronic  diarrhea, 
■which  gradually  reduced  his  strength  until  he  became  no  longer  capable  of 
any  physical  effort.  He  was  not  actually  taken  off  from  his  labours  until 
a  few  weeks  previous  to  his  death.  The  last  Sabbath  that  he  preached,  ho 
administered  the  Sacratuent  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and,  in  the  afternoon, 
during  the  first  prayer,  he  fell  in  the  pulpit.  Several  persons  went  to  his 
assistance,  and,  in  a  short  time,  he  had  so  far  revived  as  to  be  able,  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  a  friend,  to  walk  out  of  the  church.  As  he  passed  down 
the  aisle,  he  bowed  to  the  people  on  either  side,  and,  as  if  conscious  that 
he  was  taking  his  final  leave  of  them,  said, — "  Farewell,  my  dear  friends,  I 
hope  I  shall  meet  you  all  in  Heaven."  From  this  time  he  declined  rapidly 
until,  at  length,  he  fell  into  a  lethargy,  from  which  he  never  awoke  except 
for  a  few  moments — and  then  to  fall  into  it  again — just  before  he  breathed 
his  last.  He  died  on  the  18th  of  July,  1827,  aged  eighty-three  years.  A 
Discourse  was  delivered  at  his  funeral  by  the  Rev.  Seth  F.  Swift,  of  Nan- 
tucket, from  the  text, — "  Remember  them  which  have  the  rule  over  you,"  &c. 

Mr.  Thaxter's  only  publication,  so  far  as  is  known,  wa^;  a  Catechism  for 
Sabbath  Schools. 

The  following  letter  (without  date)  was  addressed  by  Mr.  Thaxter, 
shortly  after  the  commenceiuent  of  the  present  century,  to  his  son  Leavitt, 
who  was,  at  that  time,  a  teacher  in  one  of  the  Southern  States  : 

My  dear  Son :  I  early  devoted  you  to  God.  I  have  spared  no  pains  nor  expense 
to  qualify  you  to  act  your  part  graccfullj''  as  a  man  and  a  Christian.  By  my 
advice  you  have  devoted  yourself  to  the  instruction  of  youth.     The  office  is 


JOSEPH    THAXTER.  87 

the  most  important  and  useful  in  which  man  can  be  cmploj'eJ.  That  ought 
to  be  esteemed  the  most  honourable  which  is  most  useful.  It  is  so  in  the  sight 
of  God.  You  will  never  view  it  then  as  a  mean  or  low  employment.  Remember 
the  office  will  never  honour  you,  if  you  do  not  do  honour  to  that.  It  calls  for 
many  acts  of  self-denial,  or  rather  self-government.  A  firm  and  steady  mind, 
restraining  and  governing  the  passions  and  affections,  is  of  infinite  importance 
in  governing  youth.  Angry  resentment  for  misconduct  is  wrong.  The  resent- 
ment shown  to  misconduct  should  flow  from  benevolence.  Such  reproofs  can 
scarcely  fail  to  make  a  deep  and  lasting  impression  upon  the  young  and  tender 
mind.  Let  your  government  be  mild  but  firm.  Often  threatening  does  no 
good.  It  only  tends  to  harden  in  disobedience.  Those  who  will  not  be 
reclaimed  by  mild  and  benevolent  measures,  are  unfit  for  the  society  of  virtu- 
ous and  well-disposed  youth.  Prudently  point  out  the  errors  of  such  to  their 
parents  or  guardians,  and  take  no  severe  measures  without  tlieir  positive 
direction.  If  none  are  prescribed,  lay  the  case  before  the  Trustees,  and  leave  it 
to  them  to  take  such  measures  with  the  unruly  as  their  wisdom  shall  direct. 
You  will  find  a  variety  of  tempers,  dispositions  and  geniuses.  These  will  have 
a  peculiar  efibct  on  your  own  affections.  We  cannot  avoid  feeling  peculiar 
afi'ection  towards  such  as  discover  talents  and  virtuous  dispositions.  Hence, 
you  cannot  guard  too  much  against  doing  any  thing  through  partiality.  Let 
nothing  of  this  appear,  especially  in  your  public  conduct.  Let  it  be  your  great 
object  to  awaken  in  every  one  an  ambition  to  excel.  Never  mortify  one  who  is 
not  so  quick  to  conceive,  but  encourage  all  to  persevering  industry. 

I  trust  it  will  be  agreeable  to  the  Trustees,  in  the  plan  of  instruction,  that 
the  Bible,  that  holy  book,  should,  some  part  of  it,  be  read  e\ery  day,  and  that 
prayer  be  attended  at  opening  of  school  in  the  morning  and  closing  it  at  night. 
Let  3'Our  prayer  be  short  and  pertinent,  and  with  the  most  profound  awe  of 
that  great  and  holy  Being  <<  who  cannot  be  deceived,  neither  mocked."  It  is 
of  the  greatest  importance  that  youth  look  up  to  their  instructors  as  not  only 
the  wisest,  but  the  most  pious  and  virtuous  of  men.  Oh!  my  son,  set  a  good 
example.  While  )^ou  devote  all  your  faculties  to  teach  them  knowledge,  strive 
to  inspire  them  with  the  purest  sentiments  of  piety  and  religion.  Remember 
you  are  not  only  training  them  up  for  usefulness  in  life,  but  for  eternity. 
Nolhing  lays  so  sure  a  foundation  for  usefulness  in  life,  as  a  mind  deeply  im- 
bued with  the  principles  of  religion  and  morality.  These  are  the  only  princi- 
ples that  can  render  us  acceptable  to  God,  or  make  us  happy. 

Is  your  task  laborious.''  How  gloriously  docs  Heaven  reward  the  task,  when 
your  pupils  go  forth  and  become  the  ornaments  of  religion,  the  supports  of 
society,  some  to  fill  the  Pulpit,  some  to  shine  at  the  Bar,  and  some  to  adorn 
the  Senate.  My  dear  son,  arouse  all  your  faculties,  keep  a  good  conscience 
toward  both  God  and  man,  and  you  will  meet  the  approbation  of  both  God 
and  man,  and  be  forever  happy. 

Be  not  less  exemplary  in  your  famil}^  Let  your  house  be  a  house  of  prayer, 
a  house  of  hospitalit)'^, — not  a  house  of  luxuries.  Nothing  enervates  and 
debauches  the  mind  like  luxury.  It  disqualifies  for  energetic  exertion,  brings 
on  a  premature  old  age,  and  a  train  of  evil  that  renders  the  close  of  life  mis- 
erable. 

Y'ou  have  seen  too  much  of  the  world  not  to  expect  to  meet  with  many  diffi- 
culties and  trials.  Nothing  but  the  principles  of  religion,  deeply  imbibed  and. 
steadily  practised,  can  afford  you  solid  comfort.  There  is  more  comfort  in; 
reflecting  upon  one  hour  spent  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  the  right  discharge  of 
duty,  than  in  a  whole  life  spent  in  thoughtless  vanity.  We  live  in  an  age 
when  infidelity  and  enthusiasm  have  marred  the  peace  of  pure  religion.  Sec- 
tarianism was  never  more  prevalent.  My  dear  son,  avoid  all  parties  in  religion. 
You  have  the  Bible,  which  for  many  years  I  used  to  teach  you,  and  remember 


88  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

it  was  your  fatlicr's.  But  remember  it  is  the  word  of  God.  Make  tliat  your 
guide,  and  not  the  dogmas,  creeds,  and  confessions  of  fallible  mortals.  You 
have  Wollaston,  you  have  S backhouse  and  Taylor.  These  are  good  helps  to  a 
right  understanding  of  the  Scriptures.  Use  them  as  helps,  but  not  as  guides. 
They  are  only  the  opinions  and  reasoning  of  fallible  men  —  though  learned 
and  wise,  not  infallible.  The  Bible  is  an  infallible  guide;  though  there  are 
some  things  liard  to  be  understood — yet  there  is  no  aocirine  or  precept 
necessary  to  salvation,  but  what  is  plain  and  easy  to  be  understood.  Never 
enter  into  warm  disputes  on  those  points  about  which  sectaries  contend  with 
sucli  bitterness  that  they  lose  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity;  and,  whiio  their 
heads  are  tilled  with  clouds  of  mysticism,  and  the  smoke  of  meta}iliy.sical 
nonsense,  their  hearts  are  filled  with  uncharitableness  and  bitter  annojings. 
Be  on  your  guard,  and  never  suffer  yourself  to  engage  in  theological  wrangling. 
Always  attend  the  public  worship  where  the  performances  are  tolerable.  Hear, 
but  be  careful  to  judge  for  yourself.  Never  admit  into  your  creed  a  sentiment 
that  will  excuse  the  least  immorality.  I  knew  the  time  when  patriotism  was 
a  stable  and  fixed  principle,  when  the  good  of  our  country''  was  near  the  heart 
of  every  true  American.  This  produced  the  most  heroic  exertion  till  our 
Independence  was  established,  and  a  constitution  of  government  formed  that 
was  the  admiration  of  the  world.  The  times  are  altered.  The  loaves  and 
fishes  are  now  the  objects  of  what  is  called  patriotism,  but  falsely  so  called. 
The  flood  of  foreigners  which  has  flowed  in  upon  us  fi-om  the  monarchical 
slates  of  Europe,  have  had  the  unhappy  effect  of  producing  a  mixed  medley 
of  politics.  Hating  monarchy  and  declaiming  against  it  does  not  constitute  a 
true  republican.  It  requires  much  thouglit  and  long  habit  to  constitute  a  true 
republican.  You  have  been  educated  in  the  principles  of  true  republicanism, 
and  must  know  that  it  is  as  opposite  to  unlimited  democracy,  as  it  is  to  mon- 
archy. Part}^  politics  will  sooner  or  later  prove  the  overthrow  of  our  repub- 
lican government.  In  your  situation  of  life,  I  think  it  of  the  greatest  importance 
that  you  carefully  avoid  party  politics.  But  be  diligent  to  qualifj'  your  pupils 
to  judge  for  themselves.  It  does  not  require  a  spirit  of  prophecy  to  foresee 
that  the  present  state  of  things  cannot  long  exist.  Sooner  or  later  a  revolution 
must  take  place.  The  heterogeneous  mass  of  the  Southw^est,  of  Spaniards, 
Frenchmen,  &c.  &c.,  can  never  amalgamate  with  the  stern  morals  of  republi- 
canism of  the  Eastern  States.  God  only  knows  how  soon  an  explosion  may 
take  place,  and  a  flood  of  human  blood  be  shed.  My  dear  son,  keep  to  your 
own  business  as  an  instructor  of  youth,  and  have  nothing  to  do  with  politics 
or  wars.  Trust  in  God  to  protect  and  defend  j^ou  —  Avhile  j'ou  adhere  to  the 
principles  of  piety,  virtue,  integrity  and  uprightness,  you  will  have  nothing 
to  fear.  There  is  a  proper  respect  to  be  shown  to  the  dignitj'  of  human 
nature,  from  the  prince  on  the  throne  to  the  beggar  on  the  dung-hill.  No 
human  being  is  an  object  of  contempt,  till  he  makes  himself  so,  by  an  impious 
and  wicked  life.  And  even  then  he  is  an  object  of  pit}^,  whom  we  are  bound 
to  instruct,  and,  if  possible,  reform.  There  are  various  grades  in  society  — 
a  just  and  proper  respect  is  due  to  every  one.  Vain  adulations  are  the  oppo- 
site to  contemptuous  sneers,  and  never  to  be  indulged  by  a  wise  and  virtuous 
man.  No  sooner  do  you  fall  into  the  practice  of  flattering  the  great  than  you 
become  a  slave.  And  if  the  great  are  wise  and  truly  great,  they  will  despise 
you.  It  is  only  weak  heads  and  bad  hearts  that  are  pleased  with  flattery. 
All  men  have  their  hobby-horses.  We  may  condescend  to  their  humours,  and 
try  to  please  them  as  far  as  can  be  done  consistently  with  truth  and  a  good 
conscience.  These  are  never  to  be  sacrificed  to  please  the  greatest  man  on 
earth,  liemember  .Joseph's  reply  to  his  mistress  is  applicable  to  every  devia- 
tion from  the  principles  of  rectitude, — "  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness 
and  sin  against  God.'"     Let  conscience  be  so  much  your  master  as  never  to 


JOSEPH    TH^iXTER.  89 

yield  to  that  which  is  not  just  and  right.  Let  your  heart  be  established  with 
truth,  and  wilh  unshaken  tirraness  adhere  to  3'our  duty.  Though  j^ou  may 
meet  with  rubs,  they  will  only  serve  to  show  the  integrity  of  your  heart,  and 
secure  the  confidence  and  friendship  of  every  wise  and  good  man.  Let  your 
deportment  be  decent  and  firm,  and  your  conversation  such  as  becometh  the 
Gospel.  Carefully  avoid  levity  on  one  side  and  superstition  on  the  other,  for 
"  Wisdom's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace." 

Time  is  of  all  things  the  most  precious.  I  charge  you  to  spend  none  of  it 
in  gaming —  what  time  you  can  spare  from  your  studies  and  school,  should  be 
employed  in  moderate  exercise.  I  advise  you  to  cultivate  your  own  garden. 
It  will  be  an  amusement,  and  afford  much  moral  instruction;  as  weeds  destroy 
thefruit,  so  vicious  thoughts  and  habits  destroy  piety  and  virtue.  "When 
rooting  up  the  weeds,  look  into  your  heart,  and  strive  to  root  out  every  bad 
affection. 

Idle  visits  are  very  corrupting,  and  late  hours  are  very  injurious  to  health. 
Be  sparnig  of  your  visits;  always  let  your  conversation  be  discreet,  and,  if 
possible,  instructive.  Never  begin  the  practice  of  staying  to  a  late  hour — nine 
o'clock  ought  to  call  you  to  your  family  and  to  your  family  duties.  Regular 
hours  of  sleep  are  as  necessary  as  regular  hours  of  food,  to  refresh  the  bod}^. 
Irregular  hours  are  very  injurious  to  the  health,  both  of  body  and  mind. 
Regularity  is  the  life  of  every  thing,  and  gives  every  thing  its  proper  time  and 
place,  and  keeps  every  thing  in  order. 

Health  of  body  and  peace  of  mind  constitute  the  liappiness  of  man  in  tho 
present  state.  Temperance  is  not  a  single  virtue.  It  is  equivalent  to  self-gov- 
ernment. He  that  striveth  for  the  mastery  is  temperate  in  all  things.  The 
passions  and  affections  of  human  nature  were  planted  within  us  by  our  benev- 
olent Creator,  for  the  wisest  and  best  of  purposes.  They  are  the  mainspring 
of  action.  To  regulate  these  is  the  office  of  reason,  moral  sense  and  conscience. 
These  the  Apostle  calleth  the  law  in  our  minds.  The  former  the  law  in  our 
members.  These  are  only  servants,  and  ought  always  to  be  kejit  under  strict 
government. 

There  can  be  no  greater  slavery  or  mean  drudgery  than  to  submit  implicitly 
to  their  impulse.  The  doctrine  of  self-denial  taught  us  by  our  Saviour  does 
not  require  that  our  passions  and  affections  should  be  banished  from  our 
hearts,  but  ruled  and  governed  by  the  dictates  of  reason  and  the  precepts  of 
the  Gospel.  As,  on  the  one  hand,  these  teach  us  not  to  indulge  them  to  excess, 
so,  on  the  other,  not  to  use  monkish  austerities,  but  to  be  temperate  in  all 
things.  All  true  pleasure  lies  within  the  bounds  of  God's  commandments. 
Every  intemperate  indulgence  mars  true  pleasure.  Every  excess,  whether  of 
passion,  affection,  or  appetite,  has  an  unhapp}''  effect  on  the  human  economy. 
You  will  easily,  from  these  observations,  perceive  not  only  the  propriety,  but 
the  importance  of  the  exhortation  of  St.  Paul, — ''  Let  your  moderation  be 
known  to  all  men."  Nothing  will  be  so  effectual  to  promote  health  and  long 
life  as  to  govern  your  passions,  affections,  and  appetites,  by  the  laws  of  reason 
and  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel.  When  we  govern  them  by  these,  we  do  not 
inflict  a  wound  upon  conscience,  but  take  the  surest  and  safest  way  to  preserve 
the  peace  of  our  minds.  This  is  the  primary  reward  of  keeping  God's  com- 
mandments, and  gives  a  foretaste  of  the  glorious  reward  of  eternal  life. 

I  know  it  has  been  held  as  a  maxim  that  health  and  long  life  depend  upon 
climate.  It  is  true  that  standing  water,  and  sunken,  swampy  and  marshy 
places  are  unhealthy;  they  are  peculiar  to  no  particular  latitude  or  climate, 
and  do  not  afford  a  sufficient  argument  to  prove  that  health  and  long  life 
depend  on  latitude  or  climate.  It  only  proves  that  high  and  dry  situations, 
with  running  streams,  and  good  springs  of  pure  water,  are  essential  to  health 
and  long  life.     I  am  induced  to  believe  that  health  and  long  life  depend  much 


90  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

more  on  the  mode  of  living.  The  opinion  that  distilled  or  ardent  spirits  are 
necessary  to  health  in  warm  climates,  I  believe  is  as  erroneous  as  it  is  that 
they  are  necessary  in  cold  climates  to  keep  us  warm.  Certainly  nothing  is 
more  erroneous.  Every  unnatural  stimulant  tends  to  bring  on  debility  and 
injure  health.  If  you  wish  to  enjoy  health,  totally  abstain  from  all  kinds  of 
ardent  spirits.  '<A  little  wine  for  the  stomach's  sake  "  may  be  used  at  times. 
Even  this  must  be  used  with  great  modei'ation.  High  seasoned,  rich  food,  I 
believe,  is  more  injurious  in  warm  climates  than  in  cold.  Let  your  food  always 
be  free  fiom  spices.  These  are  unnatural  and  injurious  in  ever}' climate.  Let 
your  food  be  cooling,  but  nouiishing.  It  is  an  undoubted  fact  that  the  Arabs 
in  Africa,  many  of  them,  live  to  a  great  age.  This  must  be  owing  to  their 
living  so  much  upon  milk.  Nothing  is  more  nourishing.  A  tumbler  of  milk 
and  water,  in  a  warm  cliniate,  is  of  more  value  than  a  gallon  of  brandy  grog. 
Let  it  be  a  rule  with  you  to  make  a  free  use  of  milk,  or  milk  and  water.  Of 
bread  and  vegetables,  I  would  say,  nothing  will  tend  more  to  preserve  your 
health,  and  give  vigour  to  3'our  mind.  This  is  the  surest  way  to  escape  the 
shocking  train  of  nervous  alfections  which  often  render  life  a  burden.  My  dear 
son,  follow  these  directions,  and  if  the  all-wise  God  shall  see  tit  to  take  you 
out  of  the  world  in  the  midst  of  your  daj's,  you  will  not  have  the  galling 
reflection  that  3'ou  have  been  your  own  destroyer.  There  are  other  self-mur- 
derers besides  those  who  shoot,  hang,  or  drown  themselves.  Those,  who,  by 
their  intemperance,  shorten  their  days,  are,  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  self-mur- 
derers. 

Need  I  caution  j'ou  against  that  false  honour,  which  so  frequently  prevails, 
of  attempting  to  take  the  life  of  a  man,  especially  of  one  who  has  been  your 
friend,  because  he  has  offended  you.  How  often  do  such  men  rush  to  the  bar 
of  the  righteous  Judge  of  the  earth,  uncalled  for!  Alas!  the  thought  must 
make  the  sober  mind  shudder.  A  heart  full  of  envy  and  revenge  will  never  be 
admitted  into  heaven.  Can  this  be  bravery?  No,  it  is  madness — it  is  even 
cowardice.  The  best  way  to  answer  slander  and  reproach  is  to  live  so  that 
none  who  know  you  will  believe  it.  This  is  the  best  mark  of  a  noble,  great 
and  brave  mind. 

My  dear  son,  we  are  soon  to  part,  never  to  meet  again  in  this  world. 
Receive  this  as  the  dying  words  of  j'our  father  and  best  friend  in  this  world. 
It  will  never  hurt  you,  if  you  follow  it  strictl3^  It  will  be  a  witness  of  your 
father's  love  and  fidelity  to  you  at  the  last  day,  and  I  hope  a  witness  for  j^ou, 
to  your  and  my  joy.  May  God  Almighty  bless  you,  and  take  you  into  his 
holy  keeping,  make  you  useful  in  life,  and  bring  us  to  rejoice  together  in  that 
eternal  world  where  all  is  peace  and  love! 

Your  affectionate  father, 

JOSEPH  THAXTER. 

FROM  THE  REV.  CALVIN  LINCOLN. 

HiNGHAM,  June  12.  1863. 

My  Dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  Joseph  Thaxter  of  Edgarton 
commenced  when  I  was  quite  young.  Until  very  near  to  the  close  of  life  he 
annually  visited  his  relatives  in  this  town,  preached  one  or  two  Sundays  in 
the  church  where  I  attended  meeting,  and  usually  spent  several  hours  at  my 
father's  house.  He  was  social  and  unreserved,  and  consequently  revealed 
himself  to  those  who  listened  to  his  conversation.  When  I  first  knew  him, 
his  whole  appearance  was  suited  to  arrest  attention,  and  to  impress  itself  on 
the  memory.  I  then  thought  him  an  old  man.  His  head  was  white  with  age, 
his  step  was  quick  and  nervous,  but  irregular  from  a  wound  received  when  he 
served  as  Chaplain  or  Surgeon — for  he  held  both  offices — in  the  army  of  the 


JOSEPH    THAXTER.  91 

Revolution;  and  his  apparel  was  fashioned  after  the  stj'le  adopted  b}*  the 
clergymen  of  a  preceding  generation.  Thus  he  presented  to  my  mind  a  striking 
reseuibhmce  to  portraits  which  I  had  seen  of  Gay  and  Watts  and  Chauncy, — 
men  who  wore  large  wiiite  whigs  and  three  cornered  hats.  Mr.  Thaxter  was 
a  man  of  quick  sensibility,  ready  sympathj',  and  of  a  strong  emotional  nature. 
Kindness  melted  his  heart  and  won  his  love,  and  injustice  at  once  aroused  his 
indignation.  For  the  inhabitants  of  his  island  home,  and  his  native  town,  he 
ever  cherished  an  affectionate  regard.  He  would  walk  miles  to  call  on  one 
who  had  bfeen  a  parishioner  at  Edgarton;  and  every  person  from  his  birth 
place, — whether  visiting  tlie  Vineyard  in  pursuit  of  pleasure  or  employment, — 
was  sure  of  a  cordial  welcome  to  the  comforts  of  his  home  and  the  hospitalities 
of  his  table. 

He  was  a  man  of  active  habits  and  persevering  industry.  «<  I  performed  " 
(he  one  day  remarked)  "  one  tifth  part  of  the  labour  in  building  ni}^  house, 
from  the  bottom  of  the  cellar  to  the  top  of  the  chimnejs  and,  for  several  years, 
I  was  the  only  minister,  and  the  only  physician,  on  the  Island;  and  I  never 
refused  a  call  to  visit  the  sick,  or  to  attend  a  funeral,  in  either  of  the  three 
parislies." 

Although  his  situation  required  a  great  diversity  of  cares  and  labours,  ha 
always  maintained  scholarly  habits — he  loved  books  and  enjoyed  taxing  his 
mirid  with  close  and  earnest  thinking.  His  sermons  were  composed  with  care 
— his  style  was  sententious,  and  his  delivery  marked  by  great  earnestness. 
He  lamented  his  comparative  isolation  from  books,  and  the  society  of  literary- 
men  and  theologians.  "  Your  ministers,"  referring  to  those  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Boston,  "ought  to  be  unspeakably  ashamed,  if,  with  their  superior 
advantages,  their  sermons  are  not  richer  in  thought  than  those  prepared  in  my 
secluded  study." 

Simple  in  his  tastes  and  cautious  in  his  expenditures,  with  a  salaiy  which, 
in  these  days,  would  be  pronounced  wholly  unequal  to  the  support  of  a  family 
in  any  section  of  New  England,  Mr.  Thaxter  managed  his  affairs  so  skilfully 
that  he  closed  his  ministry  in  possession  of  a  moderate  competency — indeed, 
through  life,  he  was  free  from  those  pecuniary  embarrassments,  which  not 
unfrequently  depress  the  spirits,  disturb  the  thoughts,  and  materially  impair 
the  u.sefulness  of  the  Cliristian  minister.  While  thus  strict  as  an  economist, 
his  spirit  was  untainted  by  meanness  or  avarice.  He  considered  the  poor,  and 
cheerfully  gave  his  time  and  labour  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering.  The  mas- 
ter of  a  Nantucket  whale-ship  related  the  following  occurrence  in  nearly  these 
words: — *<  I  was  once  unlading  my  vessel  at  Edgarton,  when  one  of  the 
younger  sailors  fell  between  the  ship  and  the  wharf  and  broke  his  collar-bone. 
As  Mr.  Thaxtur  was  considered  the  best  surgeon  on  the  Island,  I  immediately 
took  the  boy  to  his  house.  The  old  gentleman  was  at  breakfast.  On  learning 
the  object  of  my  call,  he  left  the  table,  and  very  promptly  adjusted  the  frac- 
tured bone.  To  my  question, — '  What  shall  he  pay  you.  Sir.'' ' — he  answered, 
'  If  he  is  rich,  seventy-live  cents — if  he  is  poor,  nothing.'  I  replied, —  «  He  is 
rich,  or  I  will  be  rich  for  him.'  " 

During  the  earlier  years  of  his  ministry,  his  parish  was  comparatively  large 
and  wealthy — in  later  life,  he  suffered  severely  from  that  variety  of  opinion 
which  has  so  generally  prevailed,  and  so  frequently  broken  the  integrity  of 
our  once  united  Congregational  churches.  He  looked  upon  his  flock  as  his 
famil}'^,  and  the  alienation  of  a  member  of  his  congregation  he  compared  to  the 
loss  of  a  child.  I  once  heard  from  him  the  following  statement.  Efforts  had 
been  made  to  establish  a  Society  of  another  denomination  :  and  a  distinguished 
clergyman  from  the  city  was  now  on  the  Island  to  co-operate  in  executing  the 
design.  Mr.  Thaxter  was  invited  to  call  on  this  gentleman  at  the  house  of  a 
parishioner.     After  the  customary  salutations  and  inquiries  he  thus  addressed 


92  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

the  stranger.     <<  Dr. around  me  are  the  parents  whom  I  joined  in  mar 

riage,  and  the  children  whom  I  baptized, — for  whom  I  have  watched  and 
pra3'ed  with  the  solicitude  of  a  fatiier;  and  now,  Sir,  if)'Ou  have  come  here  to 
embitter  the  last  days  of  an  old  man,  by  alienating  the  affections  of  his  people, 
I  cannot  find  words  strong  enough  to  express  my  indignation  at  j'our  purpose." 
In  theology  Mr.  Thaxter  belonged  to  the  Arminian  school.  With  others  of 
this  class,  at  that  period  in  the  history  of  opinions,  he  ascribed  an  efficacy  to 
the  Saviour's  death,  in  procuring  the  salvation  of  the  sinner,  beyond  that  of 
its  instrumentality  in  reconciling  the  human  to  the  Divine  will.  Of  the  nature 
of  Christ,  his  views  corresponded  with  those  which  have  been  usually  known 
as  Arian.  Speaking  of  another  clerg3'man,  somewhat  remarkable  for  his 
instabilit}',  I  once  heard  him  use  this  language — "  I  have  known  him  a  Trini- 
tarian,— little  better  than  a  Tritheist — I  have  known  him  a  Socinian,  little 
better  than  a  Deist." 

With  great  respect,  I  am  yours  sincerely, 

CALVIN  LINCOLN. 


JOHN  ELIOT,  D.  D  * 

1776—1813. 

John  Eliot  was  born  in  Boston,  May  31,  1754.  He  was  the  fourth 
son  and  seventh  child  of  the  Rev.  Andrew  Eliot,  D.  D.,  and  Elizabeth 
(Langdon^  his  wife.  From  his  earliest  years,  he  manifested  an  uncom- 
monly amiable  and  gentle  spirit,  accompanied  with  great  sobrietj'  and  con- 
scientiousness ;  and  withal  gave  evidence  of  an  inquisitive  and  vigorous 
mind.  His  health,  during  his  early  youth,  was  very  frail ;  so  that  his 
friends  scarcely  expected  that  he  would  reach  mature  years.  But,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  attending  the  utmost  parental  care,  his  constitution  gra- 
dually acquired  vigour,  and  he  was  spared  much  beyond  the  ordinary 
period  of  human  life. 

At  the  age  of  seven  years,  he  was  placed  at  the  North  grammar-school 
in  Boston,  where,  in  due  time,  he  was  fitted  for  college.  He  was  admitted 
a  member  of  Harvard  College  in  1768,  at  the  early  age  of  fourteen.  His 
collegiate  course  was  marked  by  the  most  exemplary  moral  deportment,  by 
great  sweetness  of  temper,  and  uncommon  diligence  and  proficiency  in  his 
studies.  He  was  graduated  with  the  highest  honour  in  1772.  Among 
his  classmates  who  were  distinguished  in  after  life,  were  Governor  Eustis 
and  the  first  Governor  Levi  Lincoln. 

Soon  after  his  graduation,  he  took  charge  of  a  school  in  Roxbury,  known 
as  the  "  Feofee  Grammar  School,"  where  he  remained  one  year.  For 
several  months  of  the  succeeding  winter,  he  was  employed  in  a  similar  way 
at  Dedham.  His  labours  in  the  capacity  of  a  teacher  were  highly  appre- 
ciated, being  characterized  alike  by  ability  and  fidelity. 

Notwithstanding  he  had  determined  to  devote  himself  to  the  ministry, 
and  had  given  some  attention  to  theological  studies,  in  connection  with  his 
labours  as  an  instructor,  he  was  unwilling  to  enter  upon  his  profession,  until 
he  had  had  the  benefit  of  a  more  mature  course  of  preparation.    Accordingly, 

•  Brief  Memoir  of  Dr.  Eliot. — Mass.  Hist.  Coll.,  Vol.  I,  2d  scries. — Lathrop's  and  Free- 
man's Fun.  Scriu. 


JOHN    ELIOT.  93 

sometime  during  the  second  year  after  he  graduaH;ed.  he  returned  to  Cara- 
bridcfe  with  a  view  to  the  accompUshment  of  this  object.  He  continued  there 
until  the  army  took  possession  of  the  students'  rooms,  with  their  contents, 
in  the  spring  vacation  of  1775.  In  consequence  of  some  efforts  that  he 
made  to  recover  the  property  in  his  chamber,  he  was  suspected  by  some  of 
being  unduly  attached  to  the  interests  of  Great  Britain,  and  was  even 
openly,  though  unjustly,  charged  with  being  a  Tory.  The  truth  seems  to 
have  been  that  a  considerable  number  of  his  friends,  for  whom  he  enter- 
tained a  high  regard,  were  strongly  in  the  royal  interest  ;  and  the  fact  that 
he  was  unwilling  to  abjure,  distinctly  and  formally,  his  social  relations 
with  them,  was  probably  the  head  and  front  of  his  offending  against  the 
claims  of  an  honourable  patriotism. 

After  being  dislodged  at  Cambridge,  he  seems,  for  nearly  a  year,  to 
have  had  no  fixed  residence.  Part  of  the  time  he  passed  at  Milton,  and 
part  at  Braintree  in  the  family  of  the  late  Hon.  Richard  Cranch,  for  whom 
he  always  entertained  the  most  profound  and  grateful  regard.  lie  also 
paid  several  visits  to  the  llev.  Dr.  Belknap,  then  of  Dover,  N.  11.,  after- 
wards of  Boston,  with  whom  he  contracted  an  affectionate  intimacy,  that 
was  broken  only  by  death.  The  two  possessed,  in  many  respects,  similar 
tastes,  and  were  afterwards  eilicient  coadjutors  iu  the  then  comparatively 
new  field  of  historical  and  biographical  researcli. 

In  the  latter  part  of  1775,  or  the  beginning  of  1776,  he  commenced  his 
labours  as  a  Preacher  at  Dover,  in  the  pulpit  of  his  friend  Dr.  Belknap. 
He  had  a  few  months  before  made  a  public  profession  of  religion,  by  join- 
ing the  church  in  Dedham,  under  the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  Jason 
Haven. 

Though  the  regular  routine  of  his  studies  was  not  a  little  interrupted  by 
the  scenes  of  the  Revolution,  he  was,  nevertheless,  during  nearly  the  whole 
time,  a  diligent  student,  and  availed  himself  of  the  best  helps  he  could 
command  in  the  prosecution  of  his  theological  inquiries.  Nor  did  he  con- 
fine himself  to  the  study  of  Theology  ;  but  devoted  a  portion  of  his  time 
to  Philosophy,  History  and  General  Literature.  He  was  a  candidate  for 
the  Greek  Tutorship  at  Cambridge,  about  the  time  of  the  commencement 
of  the  Revolution,  and  would  undoubtedly  have  been  appointed,  if  the 
rising  political  troubles  had  not  interfered  with  the  proposed  arrangement. 
Another  Tutorship  was  subsequently  offered  him  ;  but  he  is  said  to  have 
declined  it  on  the  ground  of  his  having  a  younger  brother  in  College  at  the 
time,  and  his  being  unwilling  to  be  placed  in  circumstances  in  which  his 
fraternal  regards  could  be  supposed  in  any  way  to  control  or  influence  his 
ofiicial  duties. 

In  1776,  he  received  an  earnest  request  from  several  leading  members 
of  the  Episcopal  Church  at  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  to  become  an  assistant 
to  their  aged  Rector,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Breynton.  The  situation,  in  a  worldly 
point  of  view,  would  have  been  an  eligible  one  ;  and  Mr.  Eliot  is  said,  at 
that  time,  to  have  felt  no  objection  to  the  doctrines  or  forms  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church  ;  and  he  thought  there  was  much  to  be  said,  on  the  ground 
of  expediency,  in  behalf  of  its  discipline  and  order;  but  his  early  predilec- 
tions for  Congregationalism,  together  with  the  decided  wishes  of  his  father, 
finally  determined  him  not  to  change  his  ecclesiastical  connection. 


94  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Tie  officlateil,  for  a  sliort  time,  as  Chaplain  to  the  recruits  of  Colonel 
Marslial's  rogiiiieiit,  then  being  raised  in  Boston,  for  the  expedition  to 
Canada.  After  this,  he  passed  several  months  at  Littleton,  as  the  assist- 
ant of  the  llev.  Daniel  llogers  ;  and,  during  the  winter  of  1778-79,  sup- 
plied the  First  Church  in  Salem.  Here  his  labours  met  with  great  accept- 
ance ;  and  it  is  said  that  he  would  have  probably  received  an  invitation  to 
become  their  Pastor,  but  for  the  apprehension  they  had  that  the  New 
South  Cliurch  in  Boston  were  desirous  of  obtaining  him,  and  that  he  would 
prefer  a  settlement  in  his  native  town.  But,  before  there  was  any  deci- 
sive action  in  reference  to  him,  on  the  part  of  either  charch,  the  death  of 
his  venerable  father  occurred,  liy  reason  of  which  he  was  finally  withdrawn 
from  both,  and  was  introduced  to  a  field  of  labour  as  grateful  as  it  was 
responsible  and  unexpected. 

The    church  of   which    his   father    had   been    Pastor  (the   New   North) 

immediately  put  his  services  in  requisition,  with  a  view  to  his  becoming 

his  father's  successor.     That  a  fair  expression  of  the  wishes  of  the  Society 

might  be  obtained,  they  voted  to  hear  three  others  in  connection  with  him ; 

and  the  result  was  a  very  unaTiimous  and  cordial  concurrence  in  his  favour. 

Accordingly,  having  accepted  their  call,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  their 

Pastor,  on  the  3d  of  November,   1779.     The  following  extracts   fiom  his 

reply  to  the  call  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  spirit  with  which  he  entered 

into  his  ministerial  engagements: 

"  Tlie  result  of  my  deliberation  is  an  acceptance  of  j'our  call,  being  fullj'  persuaded 
it  is  a  duty  to  my  Lord  and  Master,  the  great  Head  of  the  Church,  and  in  compliance 
with  my  obligations  to  this  very  respectable  Society.  I  have  not  failed  to  seek  that 
wisdom  which  is  profitable  to  direct.  I  have  endeavoured  to  draw  instruction  from 
the  fountain  of  knowledge.  And  I  doubt  not  tliat  I  have  had  an  interest  in  your 
prayers  at  tiie  throne  of  grace,  and  been  present  in  your  addresses  to  Him,  with  wiiora 
is  the  residue  of  tlie  Si)irit.  I  am  greatly  encouraged  by  the  kind  advice  of  many 
wise  and  judicious  friends,  both  ministers  and  people,  who  have  given  their  ojjinion  that 
I  ought  to  regard  this  as  a  call  in  Providence,  to  which  I  should  lend  a  listening  ear; 
tliat  the  will  of  God  concerning  me  is,  that  I  should  rise  up  and  stand  in  the  place  of 
my  father." 

In  the  fourth  year  after  his  settlement,  he  was  happily  married  to  a 
Miss  Treadwell  of  Portstuouth,  N.  H.,  who  survived  him.  They  had  six 
children, — three  sons  and  three  daughters,  all  of  whom  continued  to  live 
with  their  father  till  the  time  of  his  death. 

In  the  year  1797,  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the 
University  of  Edinburgh.  In  1804,  he  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  Cor- 
poration of  Harvard  College,  in  place  of  the  Bev.  Dr.  Howard,  then  lately 
deceased.  He  was  also  a  member  of  most  of  the  Literary  and  Charitable 
Societies  in  Boston  and  the  vicinity,  and  in  several  of  them  he  held  impor- 
tant ofiices. 

Dr.  Eliot  was  intimately  associated  with  Dr.  Belknap  in  establishing 
the  "  IMassachusctts  Historical  Society;"  and,  to  the  close  of  life,  he 
manifested  the  warmest  devotion  to  its  interests.  It  was  through  his 
instrumentality  that  many  of  its  richest  treasures  were  obtained,  both  at 
home  and  abroad.  He  was  also  a  liberal  contributor  to  the  different  vol- 
umes of  the  Society's  "  Collections,"  many  of  the  most  important  memoirs, 
and  other  valuable  articles,  being  the  production  of  his  pen. 

In  the  winter  of  1809,  Dr.  Eliot  suffered  a  severe  illness  (pneumonia) 
of  several  weeks,  which  his  friends  were  seriously  apprehensive  might  ter- 


JOHN   ELIOT.  95 

niinate  his  life.  From  this  illness,  however,  he  was  so  far  restored  as  to 
be  able,  at  no  distant  period,  to  return  to  his  accustomed  labour?  ;  but  he 
never  regarded  himself,  from  that  time,  as  enjoying  perfect  health.  His 
last  illness  was  short,  and  his  death  unexpected.  On  Wednesday,  as  he 
was  dining  at  the  house  of  a  friend,  he  was  seized  with  violent  spasms, 
wliich  proved  the  harbinger  of  his  dissolution.  The  next  day,  his  symp- 
toms seemed  more  favourable  ;  but,  on  Friday,  the  paroxysms  returned 
with  increased  violence,  and  produced  a  complete  physical  prostration.  He 
now  requested  his  physicians  to  give  him  their  honest  opinion  in  respect 
to  his  case  ;  and  they  told  him  frankly  that  his  disease  must  have  a  speedy 
and  fatal  termination.  With  uplifted  eyes,  he  calmly  replied, — "  The  will 
of  the  Lord  be  done."  He  then  conversed  with  his  children,  (his  wife  was 
absent  in  a  state  of  insanity,)  in  rc,s{)ect  to  his  affairs,  and  gave  them  his 
dying  advice.  He  mentioned  to  son)e  of  his  friends  that  he  had,  for  some 
time,  had  a  presentiment  that  liis  departure  was  at  hand.  His  father,  he 
remarked,  died  about  his  age ;  his  brother  also,  and  two  sisters.  He 
requested  that  he  might  be  buried  without  any  parade  ;  that  his  corpse 
should  not  be  carried  into  tlie  meeting  house  ;  and  that  there  should  be 
no  Sermon  preached  at  his  Funeral.  He  died  on  the  14th  of  February, 
1813, — the  fifth  day  from  the  commencement  of  his  illness, — at  the  age  of 
fifly-nine.  It  was  on  Sunday,  during  tlie  time  of  public  worship.  It  was 
Communion  day  in  his  church,  and,  in  the  interval  between  the  usual  ser- 
vice and  the  sacramental  solemnities,  tlie  tidings  of  his  death  were  carried 
to  his  people.  Dr.  Lowell,  who  was  officiating  on  the  occasion,  addressed 
the  communicants  in  reference  to  their  bereavement,  in  a  strain  of  great 
tenderness  and  fervour.  His  fun-eral  solemnities  were  attended  on  Thurs- 
day, the  18th  of  February,  agreeably  to  his  own  arrangement, — Dr. 
Lathrop  praying  in  his  chamber  with  the  family  and  most  intimate  friends, 
and  Mr.  Channing,  at  the  same  time,  performing  a  similar  service  in  the 
meeting  house,  where  there  was  a  large  assembly.  Dr.  Lathrop  preached 
a  Funeral  Sermon  on  the  succeeding  Sunday,  from  1  Thessalonians,  v,  9, 
10,  11,  which  was  published.  The  several  pall-bearers,  as  was  customary 
at  that  time,  preached  on  successive  Sabbaths,  among  whom  was  Dr.  Free- 
man, of  King's  chapel,  whose  Sermon  was  also  published. 

Besides  liis  various  contributions  to  tlie  Massachusetts  Historical  Soci- 
ety's Collections,  he  published  A  Sermon  delivered  before  the  Free- 
masons, on  the  anniversary  of  St.  John,  1782  ;  A  Charge  to  Freemasons, 
1783  ;  A  Sermon  on  the  day  of  Annual  Thanksgiving,  1794  ;  A  Sermon 
at  the  Ordination  of  Joseph  McKean,  at  Milton,  1797  ;  A  Sermon  oa 
Public  Worship,  1800  ;  A  Sermon  on  the  Completion  of  the  House  of 
Worship  for  the  New  North  Religious  Society,  1804  ;  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  Henry  Edes,*  1805  ;  A  Biographical  Dictionary,  containing 
a  Brief  Account  of  the  First  Settlers  and  other  Eminent  Characters  in 
New  England,  8vo.,  1809. 

*  Henry  Edes  was  a  native  of  Boston;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1799;  was 
ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Providence,  R.  I.,  July  17,  1805;  was 
l.onoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College  in  1826;  was  dismissed 
in  June,  1832;  and  died  in  1851.  He  published  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Shearjashub 
Bourne  Townsend,  [who  was  born  in  Barrington,  R.  I.,  April  14,  1796;  was  graduated  at 
Brown  University  in  1814;  was  settled  as  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Sherburne,  Mass., 
July  2,  1817;  and  died  July  20,  1832,  aged  thirty-seven  years.] 


96  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  February  15,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  Dr.  John  Eliot  \vas  my  friend,  and  neighbour,  and  brother  in 
the  ministry,  for  many  years.  Though  much  my  senior,  I  knew  him  well;  and 
though  a  long  period  has  passed  since  his  departure  from  the  world,  my  recol- 
lections of  him  are  still  vivid,  and  I  am  happy,  even  at  this  late  day,  to  do 
any  thing  I  can  in  honour  of  his  memory. 

Dr.  Eliot  was,  in  person,  considerably  below  the  middling  stature,  and 
somewhat  inclined  to  corpulency.  He  was  bland  and  courteous  in  all  his  inter- 
course, and  was,  in  the  best  sense,  a  gentleman;  though  belaboured  under 
the  inconvenience  of  being  very  near-sighted,  which  gave  a  certain  awkward- 
ness to  his  manner,  and  sometimes  led  persons.,  who  were  not  aware  of  tliis 
infirmity,  to  suppose  that  he  treated  tliem  with  neglect.  He  was  remarkably 
candid  in  his  estimate  of  others,  and  seemed  to  delight  in  discovering  and 
acknowledging  merit  of  any  kind  among  persons  of  all  creeds  and  all  classes. 
At  the  same  time,  he  was  modest  —  perhaps  too  modest,  in  the  judgment  he 
formed  of  himself;  and,  accordingly,  when  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
was  conferred  upon  him  by  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  he  is  said  to  have 
received  it  with  evident  feelings  of  regret;  and  when,  at  a  subsequent  period, 
some  movement  was  made  among  his  friends  towards  procuring  for  him  the 
same  honour  from  his  own  Alma  Mater,  he  strongly  discouraged  the  idea,  and 
it  was  abandoned  at  his  urgent  request. 

Dr.  Eliot  Mas  distinguished  rather  for  the  more  sober  than  the  more  bril- 
liant intellectual  qualities.  He  was  fond  of  the  classics,  but  was  more  especi- 
ally devoted  to  Ecclesiastical  History,  and  the  kindred  department  of  Biogra- 
phy. In  matters  of  fact,  lie  might  be  appealed  to  almost  as  an  oracle.  He 
was  a  prodigious  reader,  and  had  a  memory  unusually  tenacious  and  accurate. 
His  public  discourses  had  not  unfrequently  the  appearance  of  being  written  in 
haste,  and  were  sometimes  less  methodical  than  could  have  been  wished — lie 
would  pass  rapidly  from  one  topic  to  another,  in  a  manner  which  sometimes 
left  the  hearer  at  loss  to  account  for  the  transition.  Occasionally,  however, 
there  would  be  passages  of  very  considerable  beauty  and  power,  to  give  inte- 
rest to  what  might  otherwise  have  been  an  ordinary  sermon.  With  the  com- 
munity at  large  it  could  scarcely  be  said  that  he  was  a  popular  preacher;  and 
yet,  to  his  constant  hearers,  I  believe  he  was  never  otherwise  than  acceptable. 
His  prayers  were  serious,  pertinent,  and  often  impressive. 

In  respect  to  his  views  of  Theology,  I  suppose  the  following  statement  con- 
tained in  Dr.  Freeman's  Sermon  occasioned  b}'  his  death,  ma}^  be  relied  on  as 
substantiall}'^  correct: 

"In  general,  it  may  be  said  that  he  agreed  in  opinion  with  those  M'ho  are 
denominated  Liberal  Christians.  Respecting  his  notions  of  the  distinction 
which  is  to  be  made  between  the  rank  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,  though  he 
rejected  the  creed  of  the  Athanasians,  yet  he  did  not  go  as  far  as  many  have 
proceeded  in  the  present  age.  He  adopted,  in  his  youth,  the  system  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Burnet,  commonly  called  the  'Indwelling  Scheme,'  and  I  believe 
adhered  to  it  to  tlie  last."  * 

He  rarely,  if  ever,  introduced  controversy    in    the  pulpit,  and,  on  disputed 

•It  is  due  to  candour  to  state  that  Dr.  Epliraim  Eliot,  in  his  "  Historical  Notices  of  the  New 
North  Ilcligious  .Society,"  says  that  Dr.  Eliot  was  a  Trinitarian,  and.  as  evidence  of  it, 
adduces  the  fact  that  he  always  used  the  same  Church  Covenant  which  had  been  introduced 
into  the  church  Ijy  his  father,  of  which  the  following  is  a  part:  "  We  give  ourselves  to  the 
Lord  Jehovah,  who  is  the  Father,  Son,  and  IIolj'  (jhost:  and  avouch  Hini  to  be  our  God,  our 
Father,  our  .Saviour  and  Leader,  and  receive  Ilina  as  our  portion."  Is  it  not  probable,  how- 
ever, that  he  might  have  considered  this  language  consistent  with  the  "  Indwelling  Scheme?" 

W.  B.  S. 


JOHN    ELIOT.  97 

points,  especially  on  the  character  of  the  Saviour,  generally  confined  himself 
nearly  or  entirely  to  the  use  of  Scri^jture  language.  Indeed,  he  was  so  averse 
to  religious  controversy,  even  in  private,  that  I  have  known  him  sometimes 
abruptly  leave  a  circle  in  which  it  had  been  introduced.  Nevertheless,  he 
formed  his  opinions  independentl}^  and,  when  he  thought  the  occasion  required 
it,  expressed  them  without  any  undue  reserve. 

In  his  domestic  and  social  relations  Dr.  Eliot  shone  pre-eminently.  In  his 
familj'  he  was  a  model  of  gentleness  and  affection.  Often  have  I  remarked 
the  delightful  familiarity  that  subsisted  between  the  father  and  his  children,— 
the  most  winning  condescension  on  the  one  hand,  the  most  unaff"ected  freedom 
and  confidence  on  the  other.  And  into  Avhatever  family  or  circle  he  went,  he 
always  received  a  hearty  welcome.  Though  his  brow  would  now  and  then  bear 
the  appearance  of  deep  solicitude,  yet  he  was  commonly  cheerful,  and  some- 
times appeared  in  an  exuberance  of  good  spirits.  He  possessed  an  integrity, 
a  simplicity,  a  transparency  of  character,  that  secured  to  him  the  affection 
and  confidence  of  all  with  whom  he  associated. 

I  am.  Dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

JOHN  PIERCE. 

FROM  THE   REV.  WILLIAM  JENKS,  D.  D. 

Boston,  December  27, 1860. 

Rev.  and  very  dear  Sir:  I  am  gratified  in  the  opportunity  3^our  request 
affords  me  to  say  something  of  my  friend,  the  late  Dr.  John  Eliot.  I  owe  to 
his  memory  a  debt  of  gratitude  which  I  am  more  than  willing  at  least  to 
attempt  to  pay.  At  the  same  time  I  am  prevented  from  going  much  into  details 
from  the  fact  that  the  subject  is  so  connected  with  the  events  of  my  own  pri- 
vate life,  that  my  remarks  might  savour  rather  of  an  autobiography  than  of  an 
impartial  account  of  another  person. 

Dr.  Eliot's  eminently  worthy  father,  Dr.  Andrew  Eliot,  was,  without  ques- 
tion, a  Calvinist,  and  that  of  a  stamp  approaching  the  features  of  our  primi- 
tive divines.  Tiie  son  was  known  generally  as  a  "moderate  Calvinist" — how 
moderately  such  he  was  in  his  own  estimation,  you  may  infer  from  a  fact, 
which  I  will  now  state  to  you.  I  was  in  his  study  after  taking  my  first  degree,. 
■when  the  subject  of  conversation  was  the  state  of  theological  sentiment  in 
this  region,  and  he  mentioned  two  prominent  clergymen  who  he  said  had  no 
charity  for  Semi-Arian,  but  desired  that  one  should  go  all  lengths  with  them. 
In  this  he  referred  to  his  own  case.  My  impression  is  that  he  held  a  middle 
place  between  the  popular  type  of  Unitarianism  at  this  day,  and  the  S3'stem 
commonly  called  evangelical.  As  a  preacher  he  scarcely  came  up,  in  point  of 
evangelical  doctrine  and  tone,  to  Dr.  Eckley,  of  the  Old  South,  but  rather 
resembled,  perhaps,  Dr.  Gay,  of  Hingham,  and  imbibed  much  of  tlie  spirit  of 
Dr.  Jonathan  Ma^^hew,  being  more  literary  than  Dr.  Howard,  Dr.  Mayhew's- 
successor.  He  was  a  great  admirer  of  Dr.  Jortin,  of  London,  whose  charac- 
ter seemed  to  me  so  much  like  his  own,  that,  on  occasion  of  pronouncing  a  Eulogy 
published  in  1813,  on  the  principal  Patron  of  Bowdoin  College,  I  mentioned' 
my  respected  friend  as  <'the  Jortin  of  New  England."  Subsequently,  the  late 
Dr.  McKean,  who  was  much  attached  to  Dr.  Eliot,  stated,  in  a  Memoir  of 
him,  published  in  the  Collections  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  that 
Dr.  Eliot  remarked,  on  reading  it,  that  it  would  be  the  height  of  his  ambition 
to  deserve  that  appellation. 

Leaving  it  to  some  other  hand  to  furnish  you  a  more  particular  delineation 
of  the  character  of  my  honoured  friend,  I  close,  for  the  present,  by  sub- 
scribing myself  Yours,  faithfully  and  affectionately, 

WILLIAM  JENKS. 

Vol.  VIII.  t 


98  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  HON.  JOSIAH  QUINCY. 

BosTONj  15  November,  1861. 

Dear  Sir:  You  ask  me,  in  your  letter  of  the  4th  inst.,  for  my  reminis- 
cences of  the  late  Dr.  John  Eliot,  and  such  traits  of  his  character  as  my 
memory  retains.  It  is  a  gratitication  to  me  to  comply  with  your  request. 
Dr.  Eliot  was  my  friend,  in  my  earliest  manhood.  Before  I  was  of  age,  and 
while  yet  a  student  at  Law,  as  early  as  1792,  my  acquaintance  was  formed 
■with  him  and  continued  until  his  death.  He  was  one  of  three  others  (George 
Richards  Minot,  Rev.  James  Freeman  and  Dr.  Jeremy  Belknap)  who  hon- 
oured me,  at  that  early  period,  with  their  countenance  and  kindness;  intro- 
duced me,  as  soon  as  I  was  of  age,  into  their  society,  and  were  among  the 
causes  of  my  early  introduction  into  the  membership  of  the  Historical  Society, 
and  to  many  other  Societies.  My  sense  of  gratitude  was  then  deeply  engraven 
on  my  heart,  and  has  never  been  obliterated.  Among  these  my  early  friends 
and  patrons.  Dr.  Eliot  was  not  the  least  kind  and  eflicient.  In  manners  he 
was  gentle  and  amiable;  in  conversation  ready  and  instructive.  He,  as  well 
as  the  other  three,  was  the  most  direct  and  truthful  of  men.  There  was  an 
open-hearted  familiarity  in  his  mind  and  manner  singularly  interesting  and 
attractive.  To  the  young  they  were  charming.  They  were  probably  formed 
by  his  habitual  and  affectionate  intercourse  with  his  parishioners,  towards 
whom  he  stood  in  a  very  peculiar  relation — he  was  both  Pastor  and  comrade. 
He  was  settled  in  the  same  Church  and  over  the  same  Society  of  which  his 
father  had  been  Pastor  for  a  long  life.  He  had  been  educated  with  the  mem- 
bers of  his  Parish  from  his  boyhood.  They  felt  for  him  not  only  the  respect 
due  to  his  office,  but  the  intimacy  I'esulting  from  the  association  of  childhood 
and  youth.  Their  intercourse  combined  both  qualities  of  present  reverence 
and  long  acquaintance  with  the  members  of  his  parish,  which  gave  a  natural 
tone  to  his  general  conversation.  It  was  savoured  of  professionality  and 
sociality.  The  old  people  spoke  of  him  with  the  familiarity  with  which  they 
were  accustomed  to  address  him  when  a  boy  and  youth,  in  language  of  respect 
and  kindness,  which  he  reciprocated.  There  was  something  antique  in  his 
language  and  style,  both  in  conversation  and  in  the  pulpit,  arising  probably 
from  his  familiarity  with  the  old  ecclesiastical  writers,  such  as  Fuller  and 
those  of  like  type,  of  which  he  was  fond.  And  from  the  nature  of  his  iden- 
tity with  his  congregation,  he  retained  much  of  that  freedom,  both  in  illus- 
tration and  expression,  whicli  characterized  the  clergy  of  olden  times,  but 
which  the  fashion  of  his  time  repressed  and  soon  obliterated.  His  discourses 
were,  in  general,  suited  to  the  audience  to  Avhich  they  W'ere  addressed,  full  of 
simplicity  and  directness.  The  Society  of  the  North  End  of  Boston,  was,  at 
.that  day,  composed  of  an  intelligent,  active,  laborious  class  of  men,  who 
requiied  for  their  edification  plain  truths,  plainly  spoken.  Elaborate  argu- 
ments were  not  suited  either  to  their  taste  or  habits  of  thought,  and  the  ser- 
mons of  Dr.  Pjliot  were  admirable;  of  a  class  suited  to  their  wants  and  their 
wishes.  They  were  useful,  practical,  affectionate,  without  display,  seeking 
•only  right  words  in  proper  places,  and  appropriate  truths  and  influences. 
His  Historical  writings  were  rather  his  amusements  than  his  studies.  They 
were  the  incidental  rather  than  the  direct  object  of  his  life.  He  was  curious 
in  researches  among  old  manuscripts;  he  availed  himself  of  the  labours  of 
others  —  who  that  writes  of  things  past  can  do  otherwise  ?  He  availed  him- 
self of  the  assistance  of  friends,  as  he  acknowledges  in  his  Preface  to  the  New 
England  Biographical  Dictionary.  His  Historical  researches  were  of  a  charac- 
ter of  all  his  intellectual  efforts  for  their  truth  and  usefulness,  without  dis- 
play, without  any  catering  for  fame  or  hope  of  it. 

As  a  friend  and  associate,  I  cannot  speak  too  highly  of  his  merits — from 


ZEDEKIAH    SANGER.  99 

1794  to  1805,  I  had,  for  almost  the  whole  time,  weekly  intercourse  with  him — 
we  were  members  of  the  same  club,  composed  of  such  men  as  Minot,  Free- 
man, Belknap,  Dr.  Warren,  the  founder  of  that  family.  Dr.  Kirkland,  and 
many  others.  It  was  truly  a  collection  of  true  hearts  and  sound  heads,  who 
met  for  social  intercourse,  mutually  to  instruct  and  be  instructed,  and  enjoy. 
The  impressions  made  on  my  mind  are  still  vivid,  and  to  revive  the  traces  of 
them  now  in  my  ninetieth  year,  are  some  of  the  privileges  of  old  age.  From 
1805  I  was  a  Member  of  Congress  at  Washington,  and  my  summer  residence 
was  at  Qnincy.  I  was  deprived  almost  wholly  of  the  benefits  of  that  associ- 
ciation;  but  Dr.  Eliot  often  favoured  me  with  his  correspondence,  full  of  his 
characteristic  kindness  and  information.  He  was  also  a  constant  visitorcof 
Mrs.  Quincy,  and  to  my  family,  during  my  absence  in  Washington,  and  inte- 
rested Mrs.  Quincy  by  his  affectionate  attentions  and  manner.  I  received 
letters  from  her,  concerning  his  death,  expressive  of  her  deep  feeling  on  the 
event,  which  were  as  follows:  "February  13,  1813. — Our  friend.  Dr.  Eliot 
has  been  taken  ill  very  suddenly.  I  sent  to  inquire  about  him  to-day,  and 
received  word  that  he  was  not  expected  to  survive  many  hours.  Out  of  the 
circle  of  our  own  family  I  could  not  have  a  more  affecting  loss.  He  always 
seemed  to  take  a  peculiar  interest  in  you,  in  your  success,  your  happiness,  in 
every  thing  concerning  you.  lie  has  visited  me  very  often  this  winter,  and 
talked  to  me  confidentially  of  his  views.  I  shall  never  see  him  again.  Per- 
haps you  may  be  surprised  at  the  degree  of  sorrow  I  feel  at  the  thought,  but 
the  difference  of  age  and  the  affectionate  simplicity  of  his  manners  and  char- 
acter seemed  to  blend  a  parental  and  a  friendly  feeling  towards  us  in  a  very 
endearing  proportion."  Again,  "February  14,1813. —  Dr.  Eliot  died  this 
morning,  his  mind  perfectly  clear,  tranquil  and  resigned;  full  of  hope  and 
confidence  in  the  Religion  he  had  preached  and  professed.  Here,  then,  we 
leave  our  pleasant  and  venerable  friend.  We  shall  no  more  hear  his  voice  or 
see  his  face;  we  will  not  look  into  his  grave,  but  turn  our  thoughts  to  those 
better  mansions  which  are  promised  to  the  pure  in  heart.  All  the  clergy  of 
the  town  and  vicinity  lament  his  loss,  as  he  was  very  interesting  to  them. 
Judge  Davis,  Dawes,  Dr.  Freeman,  Governor  Gore,  and  all  his  personal 
friends  deeply  feel  the  event." 

I  have  complied  with  your  request,  and  am  truly  yours, 

JOSIAH  QUINCY. 


ZEDEKIAH  SANGER,  D.  D.* 

1776—1820. 

fjEDEKiAH  Sanger  was  a  son  of  Richard  and  Deborah  (Ttider)  Sanger, 
and  a  grandson  of  Richard  Sanger,  who  removed  from  Sudbury  to  Water- 
town,  where  lie  died,  August  21,  1691.  He  was  born  at  Shfirburne,  Mass., 
October  4,  1748.  He  early  manifested  much  quickness  of  appreliension, 
and  fondness  for  study,  especially  of  the  Mathematics  and  Natural  Plii- 
losopliy — his  taste  for  these  studies  always  continued,  and  was  indulged, 
more  or  less,  till  the  close  of  life.  He  was  fitted  for  College  by  his  Pastor, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Locke, t  afterwards  President  of  Harvard  College.    He 

*  Ms.  from  Rev.  Ralph  Sanger,  D.  D. 

t  Samuel  Locke  was  born  in  Lancaster,  Mass.,  Nov.  2.3,  1732;  was  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1755 ;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Sherburne,  November  7, 


100  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

entered  at  Cambridge,  in  July,  1767,  and  graduated,  with  high  honour,  ir 
1771, — his  class  being  distinguitJJied  for  both  numbers  and  talents.'  His 
theological  studies  were  pursued  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Jasou 
Haven  of  Dedhani. 

On  the  3d  of  July,  1776,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the 
church  in  Duxbury.  His  first  sermon  after  his  Ordination  was  from  Levi- 
ticus, XXV,  10 — "And  ye  shall  hallow  the  fiftieth  year,  and  proclaim  liberty 
throughout  all  the  land,  unto  all  the  inhabitants  thereof;"  having  refer- 
ence to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  which  had  gone  forth  the  pre- 
ceding week. 

JVlr.  Sanger  commenced  his  ministry  in  troublous  times.  Though  his 
people  were  much  attached  to  him,  both  as  a  minister  and  a  man,  and 
evinced  their  attachment  by  numerous  acts  of  kindness,  yet,  in  consequence 
of  the  depreciation  of  the  Continental  currency,  his  salary  proved  entirely 
uucfiual  to  his  support.  To  supply  the  deficiency,  he  laboured  on  his  farm 
during  the  day,  and  devoted  a  large  part  of  the  night  to  study  ;  and,  in 
consequence  of  thus  severely  taxing  his  eyes,  his  sight  became  so  much 
impaired  that  he  felt  constrained,  after  a  few  years,  to  ask  a  dismission 
from  his  pastoral  charge.  His  parish  immediately  assembled,  voted  to 
increase  his  salary,  and  requested  him  not  to  use  his  eyes  in  writing  ser- 
mons for  one  year;  presuming  that,  in  that  time,  they  would  recover  their 
usual  strength.  He  fully  appreciated  the  generosity  and  delicacy  which 
dictated  this  movement,  and,  in  compliance  with  their  request,  carefully 
abstained  for  a  year  from  using  his  eyes  in  writing,  at  the  same  time  apply- 
ing the  remedies  prescribed  by  skilful  physicians.  But,  at  the  close  of  the 
year,  his  sight  had  not  materially  improved;  in  consequence  of  which,  he 
renewed  his  request  for  a  dismission.  This  was  granted  in  April,  1786. 
He,  however,  still  continued  to  reside  in  Duxbury,  and  was  engaged,  to 
some  extent,  in  secular  business. 

After  between  two  and  three  years  from  the  time  he  resigned  his  charge, 
his  sight  was  so  far  restored  that  he  was  able  to  return  to  his  professional 
duties.  Accordingly,  in  the  year  1788,  he  received  an  invitation  to  becon)e 
the  Junior  Pastor  of  the  church  in  South  Bridgewater.  When  the  vote 
for  giving  him  a  call  was  taken,  it  was  in  fact  unanimous,  though  one  hand 
was  raised  in  the  negative.  When  the  man  who  thus  raised  his  hand  was 
asked  what  he  had  to  object  against  Mr,  Sanger,  his  reply  was, — "  Nothing 
at  all ;  I  voted  against  him  to  take  oflf  the  curse  ;  for  the  Scripture  says, — 
•Wo  unto  you  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you.'"  Mr.  Sanger 
accepted  the  call,  and  was  installed,  as  colleague  of  the  Rev.  John  Shaw,* 
on  the  17th  of  December,  1788.      Here  he  spent  the  remainder  of  his  days. 

Mr.  Sanger  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Convention  of  Con- 
gregational Ministers  in  Massachusetts,  in  1805.     He  received  the  degree 

1759;  resigned  his  charge,  February  2,  1770;  was  inaugurated  President  of  Harvard  College 
on  the  21st  of  March  following;  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the 
same  institution  in  1773;  retired  from  the  Presidential  chair,  under  circumstances  of  great 
humiliation,  on  the  1st  of  December  of  the  same  year;  and  died  on  the  15th  of  January,  1778, 
aged  forty-five  years.  He  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Convention  of  Congrega- 
tional Ministers  in  Massachusetts,  in  1772,  which  was  published. 


ZEDEKIAII    SANGER.  101 

of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Brown  Uiiiversit}^  in  1807.  He  was  one  of 
the  original  members  of  tlie  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences. 

Dr.  Sanger  is  understood  to  have  limited  his  term  of  service  as  a  Preacher 
to  the  age  of  seventy.  Wlien  he  arrived  at  tliat  age,  he  was  satisfied  that 
some  of  his  faculties,  especially  Iiis  memory,  had  begun  to  fail ;  an(J  he, 
accordingly,  asked  for  a  colleague.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Reed,  his  neighbour  and 
intimate  friend,  attributed  this  failure,  in  a  considerable  degree,  to  the 
idea  which  Dr.  Sanger  had  entertained  that  he  should  not  or  ought  not  to 
preach,  after  the  age  of  seventy.  The  strong  expectation  and  impression, 
he  thougiit,  tended  to  produce  the  result. 

Dr.  Sanger  withdrew  from  public  service  altogether  at  the  time  of  the 
settlement  of  his  colb^ague.  He  had  a  good  physical  constitution,  and 
generally  enjoyed  vigorous  health,  till  within  a  few  years  of  his  death, 
when  he  had  an  attack  of  the  measles,  from  the  effects  of  which  he  never 
fully  recovered.  His  last  illness  was  a  slight  paralytic  affection,  which, 
however,  did  not  deprive  him  of  the  use  of  either  his  limbs  or  his  reason. 
He  was  confined  to  his  house  but  a  few  weeks,  and  to  his  bed  but  a  few 
days.  He  died  oti  the  17th  of  November,  1820,  in  the  seventy-third  year 
of  his  age.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Reed  of 
Bridgewater. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Sanger's  publications: — 

A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  El)enezer  Lazell,*  Altleborough,  1792. 
A  Sermon  at  tlie  Ordination  of  James  Wilson,!  Providence,  1793.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Hezekiah  Hooper,!  Boylston,  1791.  A 
Seriudii  at  the  Ordination  of  Samuel  Watson,'^  Barrington,  R.  I.,  1798. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Ptulph  Sanger,  Dover,  1812. 

*  Ebexezer  Lazell  was  a  native  of  Uridgewater,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Brown  Uni- 
versity in  1788;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Second  Church  in  Attleborough, 
Mass.,  November  21,  1792;  and  resigned  his  charge,  January  3,  17t)7.  The  time  of  his  death 
I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain. 

t  James  Wilson  was  born  in  Limerick,  Ireland,  March  12,  ITfiO.  His  paternal  grand- 
father emigrated  from  Scotland,  and  his  maternal  ancestors  from  Germany.  An  inflamma- 
tion in  his  ej-es,  at  the  age  of  ten  or  twelve,  which  lasted  two  years,  interfered  materially 
with  his  improvement  of  the  few  advantages  of  education  which  his  parents  were  able  to  give 
him.  After  a  long  season  of  anxiety  in  regard  to  his  spiritual  interests,  he  believed  that  he 
first  felt  the  power  of  religion  upon  his  heart  at  the  age  of  about  twenty-two,  and  soon  after 
felt  that  he  was  called  to  preach  the  Gospel.  He  became  a  preacher  in  the  Wesleyan  con- 
nection, and,  for  several  years,  laboured  with  great  zeal  and  success.  At  length  ho  retired 
from  the  circuit,  and,  though  he  did  not  altogether  give  up  preaching,  he  engaged,  with 
some  of  his  wife's  connections,  in  manufacturing  business,  in  which,  however,  he  was  unsuc- 
cessful. Owing  to  this,  he  turned  his  thoughts  to  America,  and  actually  came  hither,  and 
settled  in  Providence,  R.  I.,  in  May,  1791-  Shortly  after  his  arrival,  he  was  invited  to 
preach  for  the  llev.  Joseph  Snow,  an  aged  Congregational  minister,  and  his  labours  proved 
so  acceptable  that  the  preliminaries  were  soon  arranged  for  his  becoming  Mr.  Snow  s  assistant. 
In  this  capacity  he  preached  nearly  two  years.  In  1793,  owing  to  various  circumstances,  a 
new  church  was  formed  under  the  name  of  the  "Beneficent  Congregational  Church,"  and 
Mr.  Wilson  became  the  Pastor  of  it  in  October  of  that  year.  Of  this  church  he  continued  sole 
Pastor  until  18H5,  when  he  was  relieved  from  a  portion  of  his  labours  by  the  settlement  of 
a  colleague.  He  continued  Senior  Pastor  of  the  church  until  his  death,  which  occurred  on 
the  14th  of  September,  1839.  For  ten  years  he  taught  a  large  public  school,  and  for  four 
years  a  private  one.  Dr.  Tucker,  who  preached  his  Funeral  Sermon,  represents  him  as  an 
earnest  Christian,  a  vigorous  and  successful  Preaclier,  and  a  faithful  Pastor. 

:|  Hezekiah  Hooper  was  born  in  Bridgewater,  (one  authority  has  it  Newburyport,)  in 
1769;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1789;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the 
Church  in  Boylston,  Mass.,  March  12,  1794;  and  died  December  2,  1795,  aged  twenty-six 
years. 

§  Samuel  AVatson  was  born  in  Barrington,  R.  I.,  in  177:?;  was  graduated  at  Brown  Uni- 
versity in  1794;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Barrington,  February 
28,  1798;  and  died  January  16,  1821,  aged  forty-eight  years. 


102  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Dr.  Sanger  was  married  in  1771,  to  Irene  Freeman,  a  member  of  his 
own  congregation,  in  Duxbury.  They  had  fourteen  children,  two  of  whom, 
Richard  and  Ealph,  were  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  The  latter  was 
born  at  Duxbury,  iu  178G ;  was  graduated  in  1808;  was  Tutor  in  the 
College,  in  1811-12;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in 
Dover,  Mass.,  September  16,  1812;  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity  from  his  Alma  Mater,  in  1858  ;  and  died  at  the  house 
of  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  W.  W,  Gannett,  in  Cambridge,  May  G,  18G0.  He 
was  elected  a  representative  in  the  State  Legislature,  from  Dover,  in  1837, 
1845,  1847,  1851,  and  1854.  About  fuur  years  before  his  death,  his 
Louse  was  set  on  fire  by  an  incendiary  and  destroyed.  Though,  from  this 
time  he  resided  at  Cambridge,  he  continued  his  pastoral  labours  among 
his  people  till  near  the  close  of  life.  He  was  a  man  of  liberal  attainments, 
and,  beside  his  appropriate  duties  as  a  clergyman,  lie  did  much  for  the 
promotion  of  agriculture  and  temperance,  and  in  aid  of  the  general  cause 
of  social  improvement.  He  published  a  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Death 
of  Lewis  Smith,  who  was  killed,  1819;  Thirty  Years'  Ministry:  Two 
Sermons  delivered  in  Dover,  Mass.,  1842  ;  and  Brief  Review  of  Forty 
Years  :  A  Sermon  delivered  on  occasion  of  the  Fortieth  Anniversary  of 
the  Author's  Ordination,  1853.  He  was  niarrried  in  July,  1817,  to  Char- 
lotte Kingman,  of  East  Bridgewater.  They  had  six  children, — four  sons 
and  two  daughters. 

The  following  account  of  Dr.  Sanger's  religious  opinions  is  from  his  son, 
the  llev.  Ralph  Sanger,  D.  D.,  of  Dover : — 

"  My  father  was  educated  an  Armiuian,  and  a  Trinitarian.  The  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  he  received  from  his  parents  and  tencljers;  and,  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  min- 
istry, lie  preached  it  withont  any  donbt  of  its  truth.  In  process  of  time,  however, 
doubts  arose  in  his  mind  in  relation  to  it;  and,  upon  a  thorough  and  earnest  examina- 
tion of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  he  arrived  at  a  belief  of  the  simple  and  absolute  unity  of 
the  Godhead.  But  he  always  entertained  a  profound  and  reverent  regard  for  Christ 
as  the  Sou  of  God,  and  as  the  Redeemer  and  Saviour  of  the  world." 

FROM  THE  REV.  LEVI  W.  LEONARD,  D.  D. 

Exeter,  N.  II.,  March  23.  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  ask  for  some  reminiscences  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Sanger,  of 
Bridgewater.  His  parish  was  the  place  of  my  birth,  and  my  earliest  recol- 
lections of  any  minister  are  of  him.  At  the  age  of  four  years,  I  began  to 
attend  public  worship  with  my  parents,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
years'  residence  in  an  adjacent  town,  till  the  age  of  twenty-one,  I  was  fre- 
quently present  on  the  Sabbath  at  Dr.  Sanger's  meeting.  I  liad  opportunities 
of  seeing  and  hearing  him  on  other  occasions,  as  iu  the  schools,  at  funerals, 
and  in  his  family  visits. 

The  personal  appearance  of  Dr.  Sanger  was  striking,  and  not  easily  to  be 
forgotten.  On  his  head  he  wore  what  was  called,  in  those  days,  a  cocked 
hat;  or  a  hat  with  the  brim  turned  up  on  three  sides.  On  the  Sabbath,  he 
always  appeared  with  small  clothes,  black  silk  or  black  worsted  stockings, 
and  shoes  with  silver  buckles.  Among  the  boys,  his  appearance,  as  he 
approached  the  cliurch,  excited  much  attention,  and  we  used  to  watch  for  him 
to  turn  from  the  road  into  the  common  in  front  of  the  meeting  house.  He 
advanced  with  a  slow  step  and  dignified  air,  suffering  no  one  to  pass  without 
respectful  recognition,  and  taking  off  his  three-cornered  hat  as  the  peisons 
about  the  door  stood  back  that  he  might  enter. 

The  manner  of  Dr.  Sanger  in  the  pulpit  was  grave  without  affectation;  his 


ZEDEKIAH    SANGER.  103 

utterance  was  distinct,  but  the  intonations  of  his  voice  were  peculiar,  such  as 
I  do  not  recollect  to  have  heard  from  any  other  public  speaker,  and  an  iuiita- 
tion  of  which  I  should  readily  recognize,  wherever  it  might  be  attempted.  In 
his  devotional  exercises,  there  was  occasionally  a  quick  shaking  of  the  head 
from  side  to  side,  which  many  persons  remember  with  interest,  as  it  was  apt 
to  occur  in  the  most  earnest  part  of  his  prayers,  and  seemed  to  render  the 
words  uttered  more  impressive. 

In  his  pastoral  visits  Dr.  Sanger  was  distinguished  for  his  entertaining  and 
instructive  conversations.  lie  had  a  large  fund  of  anecdotes,  Avhich  he  knew 
how  to  introduce  without  obtruding  them.  He  was  interesting  to  the  joung 
as  well  as  to  older  persons.  When  I  was  but  a  boy,  it  was  a  source  of  high 
gratilication  to  me  to  be  permitted  to  sit  in  the  room  during  a  visit  or  a  call 
from  him.  I  never  saw  in  him  the  least  approach  to  levity  of  manner.  He 
was  careful  of  the  reputation  of  others — when  persons  were  traduced  in  his 
presence,  he  remained  silent. 

Bridgewater  Academy  was  opened  for  pupils  about  1709,  and  Dr.  Sanger 
was  appointed  the  Preceptor.  I  became  a  member  of  his  school  when  nine 
years  of  age.  He  was  strict  in  discipline,  and  thorough  in  instruction. 
Offences  against  the  regulations  of  the  school  seldom  escaped  his  notice;  and 
occasionally  he  was  severe  in  his  reprimands.  His  general  manner  indicated 
kindness  of  heart,  and  an  earnest  desire  for  the  good  conduct  and  progress  of 
his  pupils.  His  commendations  were  bestowed  with  just  discrimination,  and 
were  regarded,  therefore,  as  worth  receiving.  I  remember,  as  it  were  but 
yesterday,  the  first  time  he  prescribed  for  me  a  lesson  in  Earr's  English  Gram- 
mar. He  called  me  to  his  desk,  opened  the  book,  marked  the  paragraphs  to 
be  committed  to  memorj^  and  then  went  over  them  with  a  running  commen- 
tar)'',  thus  explaining  their  meaning,  and  exciting  an  interest  in  the  subject. 
There  was  a  department  for  female  pupils,  and,  morning  and  evening,  both 
sexes  assembled  in  the  hall,  where  the  Scriptures  were  read  and  prayers 
offered.  It  w^as  customary,  after  evening  prayers,  to  have  an  exercise  in 
spelling.  The  pupils  had  been  in  the  habit  of  spelling  words  without  first 
pronouncing  them  after  the  teacher.  I  had  been  trained  to  pronounce  words 
before  spelling  them,  and  when  called  upon  to  spell,  I  repeated  the  word  before 
naming  the  letters  and  syllables.  To  my  surprise  and  chagrin,  there  was  a 
restrained  laugh  and  smile  of  derision  on  the  part  of  many  of  the  pupils — for 
a  moment,  I  remember.  Dr.  Sanger  looked  offended,  but  immediatel}'  he  said, 
in  a  decided  tone,  "That  is  a  good  method  — it  shows  whether  the  pupil  under- 
stands the  word  he  is  required  to  spell,  and  I  desire  that  all  of  you  hereafter 
pronounce  the  words  before  you  spell  them."  This,  of  course,  relieved  me 
from  all  embarrassment,  and  it  is  one  of  the  first  things  that  I  recollect,  when 
I  hear  the  name  of  Di'.  Sanger  mentioned. 

Dr.  Sanger  continued  in  the  Academy  two  or  three  years,  but,  during  the 
rest  of  his  life,  seldom,  if  ever,  took  pupils  to  instruct  at  his  own  house.  He 
consented,  however,  to  give  me  instructions,  once  a  week,  in  my  review  of 
studies  preparatory  to  entering  College.  ]My  custom  was  to  mark  such  pas- 
sages in  Latin  and  Greek  as  I  regarded  diflBcult,  and  these  were  examined 
and  explained  by  him.  What  surprised  me  was  that  he  so  often  called  my 
attention  to  other  hard  passages,  and,  with  the  utmost  readiness,  pointed  out 
their  difficulties  or  peculiarities  of  construction.  He  told  me,  on  one  occa- 
sion, when  speaking  of  his  past  labours  as  a  teacher,  that  he  could,  at  a  for- 
mer time,  repeat  the  whole  of  the  first  book  of  the  yEneid,  although  he  had 
never  tried  to  commit  the  same  to  memorj^.  It  was  the  result  of  his  having 
taught  it  with  care  and  thoroughness  to  a  long  succession  of  pupils.  The  dis- 
covery of  his  being  able  to  do  this,  he  said,  was  accidental. 

During  Dr.  Sanger's  ministry,  there  was  no  stove  in  his  church.     Two  of 


104  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

the  entrances  opened  directly  into  the  open  air  outside.  The  doors  to  these 
were  not  always  shut  by  those  who  entered,  and  thus  the  house  was  rendered 
more  tiiun  usually  uncomfortable.  When  a  door  was  left  open,  Dr.  Sanger  was 
accustomed,  at  times,  to  request  that  it  might  be  closed.  At  the  beginning  of 
one  winter,  having  made  the  reiiuest  several  times  on  different  Sabbaths,  it 
happened,  on  a  succeeding  Sabbath,  that  the  door  was  left  open,  and  no  one 
moved  to  shut  it.  After  waiting  awhile,  he  rose,  came  down  the  pulpit  stairs, 
—  the  eyes  of  the  whole  congregation  being  turned  towards  him, —  walked 
deliberately  tiirough  the  side  aisle,  and  gently  closed  the  door;  then,  with  the 
same  deliberate  step,  returned  to  the  pulpit,  and  continued  the  service  as  if 
nothing  had  happened  to  disturb  his  equanimity.  I  believe  the  doors  were  not 
left  open  again  during  that  winter. 

I  was  occasionally  sent,  when  a  boy,  to  procure  books  from  the  Social 
Library,  at  a  meeting  of  the  members,  once  in  six  weeks.  Dr.  Sanger  was 
librarian,  and  attended  personally  to  the  delivery  of  books.  His  conversa- 
tion, at  these  meetings,  was  about  the  books,  giving  frequently  some  sketch  of 
their  contents,  and  recommending  to  one  and  another  the  kind  of  books  in 
which  he  supposed  they  would  take  an  interest. 

Allow  me  to  say  a  word  in  conclusion,  in  respect  to  the  Doctor's  excellent 
wife.  She  was  discreet,  shrewd,  intelligent,  and  such  a  manager  of  a  house- 
holil  as  falls  to  the  lot  of  few  husljands  of  any  profession.  With  a  numerous 
family,  and  a  number  of  pupils  l)esides.  her  domestic  duties  must  have  been 
of  no  trifling  weight.  But  every  thing  was  done  by  her  with  prompt  decision, 
and  with  a  careful,  yet  not  unduly  rigid,  economy.  Her  children  were  distin- 
guished for  their  good  conduct  and  civil  manners,  and  were  often  referred  to 
by  the  mothers  of  the  parish  as  patteins  to  be  imitated.  Airs.  Sanger  was 
distinguished  for  her  conversational  ability.  In  consequence  of  having  a  largo 
circle  of  friends  and  acquaintances,  much  company  was  entertained,  and  when 
Ur.  Sanger  was  wearied  with  the  labours  of  the  day,  or  unwell,  or  particu- 
larly engjigcd  in  his  study,  his  wife  was  never  found  unequal  to  the  task  of 
interesting  visitors,  whether  young  or  old.  She  seemed  to  know  just  what 
should  be  said  on  all  occasions,  and  when  some  perverse  or  conceited  parish- 
ioner was  trying  to  catch  his  minister  in  his  talk,  she  quickly  perceived  it, 
and,  with  wonderful  tact,  and  without  seeming  intrusiveness,  took  up  the  sub- 
ject and  the  conversation,  and  caused  the  jjcrson  to  foiget  his  puri)Ose.  She 
was  often  somewhat  satirical  in  exj^ressing  disapprobation  of  opinions  or  con- 
duct, but  her.  satire  was  fiee  from  sarcasm.     Witii  much  regard. 

Yours,  very  truly, 

L.  W.  LEONARD. 

FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  LOWELL,  D.  D. 

Elmwood.  Cambridge,  February  23,  1819. 

Aly  dear  Sir:  I  had  much  respect  and  affection  for  the  late  Dr.  Sanger,  and 
Bhould  be  glad  to  do  any  thing  in  honour  of  his  memory.  It  is,  however,  more 
than  half  a  century  since  I  resided  with  him;  I  was  then  but  a  youth  fitting 
for  College;  and  though  my  pleasant  recollections  of  him  and  his  family  led 
me  to  spend  a  few  weeks  with  him  after  I  commenced  the  study  of  Theology, 
3'et  the  time  I  spent  there  was  so  short,  the  period  that  has  since  elapsed  is 
so  long,  and  the  .scenes  through  which  I  have  passed  have  been  so  man}'  and 
80  various,  that  1  cannot  undertake  to  give  a  formal  sketch  of  his  cbaiacter, 
or  a  detailed  account  of  his  theological  opinions. 

That  lie  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  good  scholar,  may,  T  think,  be 
inferred  from  his  having  been  entrusted  with  the  care  of  so  many  lads  in  their 
preparatory  education  for  College;  and   that  he  had  a  highly  respectalde  rank 


JOHN    CLARKE.  105 

among  his  brethren,  appears  fi'om  his  having  been  one  of  the  few  teachers  in 
that  day  of  a  "School  of  the  Propliets." 

I  remember  him  as  a  man  of  much  simplicity  of  charac'ter,  of  great  sensi- 
bility, of  an  ardent  temperament,  perhaps  somewhat  excitable,  but  habitu- 
ally gentle  and  kind.  He  had  nothing  austere  about  him  but  his  eye-brows, 
which  were  unusually  long. 

In  his  Theology  I  think  he  was  not  a  Calvinist,  though  I  believe  he  was  in 
better  odour  with  his  Calvinistic  brethren  than  some  of  his  neighbours.  In  the 
constant  warfare,  at  the  meetings  of  their  Association,  between  Mr.  Niles,  of 
Abingdon,  an  earnest  Ilopkinsian,  and  Dr.  Reed,  of  Bridgewater,  he  was  of 
the  party  of  the  latter  rather  than  of  the  former,  but  was  not  an  ultraist  with 
any  party. 

In  regard  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  I  then  supposed  that  he  was  an 
Arian,  of  the  school  of  Dr.  Price;  but,  from  a  conversation  with  him  at  a 
subsequent  period,  I  received  the  impression  that  he  did  not  venture  to  define 
his  notions  on  that  subject,  but  was  disposed  with  myself  to  rest  with  the 
declaration  of  the  Saviour, — "  No  man  knoweth  who  the  Son  is  but  the 
Father." 

As  a  Preacher,  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  popular.  His  style  of  compo- 
sition was  lively,  and  his  elocution  animated,  though  not  graceful.  His  man- 
ner was  his  own  —  there  was  no  affectation  about  it  —  he  felt  what  he  uttered, 
and  was  mainly  anxious  that  the  iiock  he  fed  "should  feel  it  too." 

As  a  husband  and  father,  I  regarded  him  as  a  model,  and  I  retain  to  this 
day  a  most  vivid  i-ocoUection  of  the  harmony  and  love  which  subsisted  among 
the  members  of  his  domestic  circle.  It  was  a  scene  eminently  iitted  to  elicit 
a  repetition  of  the  Psalmist's  exclamation, — "Behold  how  good  and  pleasant 
a  thing  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unit}'!"  I  should  do  great 
injustice  to  the  precious  memory  of  that  excellent  woman,  if  I  did  not  say 
that  she  too  should  sliare  largely  with  her  husband  in  theeulogiuin  which  such 
a  scene  bestows.     Slie  did  him  good,  and   not  evil,  all  the  days  of  her  life. 

I  have  written  all  that  now  occurs  to  me  concerning  my  lamented,  ven- 
erated friend;  but  I  can  hardly  hope  that  this  meagre  sketch  will  be  of  any 
use  to  you.     If  it  is,  I  shall  rejoice. 

I  am,  Dear  Sir,  very  truly  yours, 

CHARLES  LOWELL. 


JOHN  CLARKE,  D.  D.^ 

1778—1798. 

John  Clarke,  a  son  of  John  and  Sarah  Clarke,  was  born  at  Ports- 
mouth, N.  H.,  April  13,  175^.  His  mother  was  a  daughter  of  Deacon 
Timothy  Pickering,  and  sister  of  Colonel  Timothy  Pickering,  of  political 
memory.  The  family  resided  chiefly  at  Portsmouth,  but  finally  removed 
to  Salem,  where  the  parents  died.  The  father  was  by  profession  a  sea- 
captain,  but,  after  his  removal  to  Salem,  was  occupied  as  a  writer  in  a 
public  office. 

The  son  gave  early  indications  of  fine  intellectual  and  moral  qualities, 
and  evinced  an  uncommon  thirst  for  knowledge  and  an  earnest  desire  for 
a  liberal  education.     While  he  was  yet  a  mere  boy,  he  was  fitted  for  Har- 

*  Thachcr's  Fun.  Serni.— Mass.  Hist.  CoU.  VI. 


106  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

vard  College,  and  was  graduated  there,  in  1774,  at  the  age  of  nineteen. 
During  his  whole  college  course,  he  maintained  a  very  high  standing  in 
respect  to  both  scholarsliip  and  behaviour;  insomuch  that  his  Tutor  (after- 
wards President  Willard)  remarked  concerning  him,  that,  "  perhaps  there 
never  was  a  student,  who  passed  through  the  University,  and  went  into 
the  world,  with  a  fairer  reputation,  and  few  with  more  solid  and  useful 
acquirements." 

After  leaving  College,  he  engaged,  for  some  time,  in  the  instruction  of 
youth,  devoting  his  leisure  hours  to  the  study  of  Tlieology.  From  his  first 
appearance  in  the  pulpit,  he  took  his  place  among  the  more  popular  preach- 
ers of  the  day.  The  First  Church  in  Boston,  of  which  Dr.  Chauncy  was 
then  sole  Pastor,  wishing  to  give  him  a  colleague,  directed  their  views  to 
Mr.  Clarke  ;  and,  after  he  had  preached  a  suitable  time  as  a  candidate, 
they  invited  him,  with  Dr.  Chauncy's  cordial  concurrence,  to  become  his 
associate  in  the  ministry.  He  accepted  their  call,  and  was  ordained  and 
installed  on  the  8th  of  July,  1778.  With  Dr.  Chauncy  he  lived,  as  a  son 
with  a  father,  in  the  most  respectful  and  affectionate  intimacy,  for  nine 
years,  when  the  death  of  his  colleague  left  him  sole  Pastor  of  the  church. 
After  this,  he  continued  his  lal)0urs  with  undiminislied  acceptance  until 
his  death.  On  the  last  day  of  March,  1798,  in  the  midst  of  his  Sabbath 
afternoon  service,  he  fell  in  his  pulpit  in  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  was  borne  to 
his  dwelling  amidst  the  tears  and  lamentations  of  his  flock,  and  died  at 
three  o'clock  the  next  morning,  having  nearly  completed  the  forty-third 
year  of  his  age,  and  the  twentieth  of  his  ministry. 

His  Funeral  was  attended  on  the  Friday  following,  (April  Gth,)  and  a 
Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  by  Dr.  Thacher  of  Brattle  Street  Church, 
from  2  Samuel,  i,  26:  "T  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother;  very  plea- 
sant hast  thou  been  unto  me."  On  the  Sabbath  following.  Dr.  Willard, 
President  of  Harvard  College,  preached  to  the  bereaved  congregation  an 
appropriate  Sermon,  a  copious  extract  from  which  is  to  be  found  in  the 
pamphlet  containing  Dr.  Thacher's  Sermon  at  the  Interment.  It  is  a  high 
tribute  to  the  character  of  his  friend,  in  all  his  various  relations. 

The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  (I  cannot 
ascertain  in  what  year)  by  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 

Probably  the  most  important  work  which  Dr.  Clark  published,  was  his 
"  Answer  to  the  Question,  '  Why  are  you  a  Christian  V  "  It  is  a  con- 
densed, perspicuous  and  powerful  argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity, 
and  has  passed  through  several  editions  in  Great  Britain,  as  well  as  in 
this  country.  His  "  Letters  to  a  Student  at  the  University  of  Cambridge," 
(understood  to  be  his  cousin,  the  late  Hon.  John  Pickering,)  form  an 
excellent  manual  for  a  young  man  during  his  college  course.  His  other 
works,  published  during  his  lifetime,  consist  of  four  Sermons  : — one  at  the 
Interment  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Cooper,  D.  D.,  1783;  one  at  the  Interment 
of  the  Rev.  Charles  Chauncy,  D.  D.,  1787  ;  one  at  the  Interment  of 
Nathaniel  W.  Appleton,  M.  D.,  1795  ;  and  one  before  the  Humane  Society 
of  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  1793.  Two  volumes  of  his  Ser- 
mons were  published  after  his  death  ;  the  first,  of  a  miscellaneous  char- 
acter, in  1799;  the  second,  addressed  particularly  to  the  Young,  in  1804. 


JOHN    CLARKE.  107 

Dr.  Clarke  was  a  diligent  student,  and,  though  he  devoted  himself  chiefly 
to  studies  more  immediately  connected  with  his  profession,  his  taste  led 
liim  more  or  less  into  the  regions  of  polite  literature  and  philosophic 
research.  He  was  an  active  friend  and  patron  of  most  of  I  lie  excellent 
institutions,  both  literary  and  religious,  which  existed  in  IJoston,  in  his 
day.  He  was  a  member  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences, 
from  its  commencement  ;  a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society  ; 
a  Trustee  of  the  Humane  Society  ;  one  of  the  original  founders  of  the 
Boston  Library;  a  Corresponding  member  of  the  Board  of  Coujuiissloners 
in  Scotland  for  Propagating  the  Gospel  among  the  Indians  of  North 
America,  &c. 

Dr.  Clarke  was  married  to  Esther,  daughter  of  Timothy  Orne,  of  Salem. 
Mrs.  Clarke  survived  her  husband  many  years,  and  died  at  the  age  of 
ninety  or  more,  having  been,  for  some  time  previous  to  her  death,  a  mere 
intellectual  wreck.      They  had  four  cliildren,  two  sons  and  two  daughters. 

FPvOxM  THE  IIOX.  WILLIAM  JARVIS. 

Weathersfield,  Vt.,  January  30,  1846. 

My  dear  Sir:  It  is  now  a  half  century  since  I  last  saw  the  Rev.  Dr.  Clarke; 
and  in  the  wide  panorama  of  life,  which  has  since  passed  before  me,  and  which, 
must  have  obliterated  or  impaired  many  of  my  early  recollections,  it  is  pos- 
sible tiiat  my  memory  may  not  furnish  a  very  vivid  or  accurate  representation 
of  him;,  but,  as  I  saw  him  as  often  as  once  in  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks,  for 
several  years,  and  had  much  conversation  with  him,  I  think  my  impressions 
"will  not  lead  me  very  wide  from  the  truth. 

Dr.  Clark  M'as,  I  think,  a  little  above  the  middle  height;  —  say  about  five 
feet,  nine  to  ten  inches.  He  was  rather  strongl}'^  built,  and  was  somewhat 
inclined  to  corpulency ;  but  only  enough  so  to  round  off  liandsomely  the  person. 
Ilis  complexion  was  sallow,  but  not  indicative  of  ill  health.  His  face  was 
rather  long;  his  forehead  of  middling  height  and  bioad;  his  eyes  dark  grey, 
and  animated  in  conversation;  his  clieek  bones  rather  prominent;  his  nose 
somewhat  long,  but  straiglit  and  handsomely  formed;  his  mouth  ratlier  wide, 
and  his  lips  thick,  but  liis  teeth  good,  and  his  chin  strong  and  well-formed. 
The  general  aspect  of  his  countenance  was  calm  and  placid,  but  it  was  often 
lighted  up,  especially  when  he  was  conversing  with  young  people,  with  uncom- 
mon vivacity. 

He  had  fine  powers  of  conversation,  could  be  gay  or  grave  as  occasion 
required,  but  was  never  prosy.  His  moral  character  was  unimpeached,  and 
unimpeachable.     He  was  remarkably  sincere,  modest  and  unpretending. 

There  was  one  night  in  the  week  which  he  set  apart  to  receive  the  visits  of  a 
number  of  young  gentlemen  of  his  acquaintance,  when  almost  every  subject 
was  occasionally  discussed,  but  in  that  easy  and  agreeable  manner  which 
threw  a  charm  over  the  whole.  In  his  family,  he  was  uncommonly  kind, 
courteous  and  aff'ectionate. 

The  last  time  I  ever  saw  him,  I  think,  was  in  December,  '96,  or  January, 
'97;  and  I  felt  much  affected  at  parting  with  one  whom  I  so  highly  respected 
and  esteemed,  and  doubtless  exhibited  somewhat  of  this  feeling  in  bidding 
him  farewell.  A  few  days  afterwards,  he  saw  a  Miss  Archibald,  a  mutual 
acquaintance  and  friend,  and  stated  to  her  that,  from  the  impressive  manner 
of  our  parting,  he  was  persuaded  he  should  never  see  me  again.  Miss  A.  sup- 
posed that  the  Doctor  was   impressed  with  the  belief  that  I  was  destined  to 


108  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

find  an  ocean  grave.  During  my  alasence,  he  was  attacked  with  a  fit  of  apo- 
plexy, in  the  pulpit,  which,  Avitliin  the  brief  space  of  a  few  hours,  translated 
him  to  another  world.  With  assurances  of  high  respect, 

I  remain  your  obedient  servant, 

WILLIAM  JAR  VIS. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  February  16, 1849 

My  dear  Sir:  You  ask  for  my  recollections  of  Dr.  John  Clarke,  for  many 
years  a  distinguished  clergyman  of  Boston.  Though  he  died  at  an  early 
period  of  my  ministerial  career,  so  that  my  acquaintance  with  him  was  less 
intimate,  as  well  as  less  extended,  than  it  would  otherwise  have  been,  yet  I 
have  some  distinct  and  pleasant  recollections  of  him  which  I  will  cheerfully 
communicate  to  you. 

Dr.  Clarke  was  eminentl}^  social  in  his  disposition  and  habits,  and  his  fine 
powers  of  conversation  rendered  him  the  life  of  every  circle  which  he  entered. 
In  his  intercourse  with  literary  men,  he  was  remarkable  for  asking  questions, 
and  such  questions  as  showed  a  mind  that  was  ever  thirsting  for  knowledge, 
and  intent  on  higher  improvements. 

It  was  his  custom  to  write  one  sermon  a  week.  This  he  elaborated  with 
great  care,  and  his  rule  was  to  finish  it  before  the  Thursday  Lecture.  Per- 
haps, while  on  this  account  there  was  greater  finish,  there  was  less  glow  in 
his  discourses  than  there  would  have  been,  if,  in  preparing  them,  he  had 
yielded  more  to  strong  impulses,  and  written  more  under  the  pressure  of 
necessity.  His  manner  of  speaking  savoured  somewhat  of  the  plaintive  and 
pathetic,  and  was  admirably  adapted  to  funeral  occasions.  His  public  prayers 
were  carefull}'  precomposed  and  committed  to  memory. 

He  is  said  to  have  been  happy  in  his  pastoral  interviews  with  the  people  of 
his  charge,  paying  .them  frequent,  though  short,  visits,  and  conciliating  the 
warm  regards  of  persons  of  all  ranks  and  ages. 

He  always  took  great  interest  in  the  success  of  young  ministers,  and  was 
ready  to  lend  them  a  helping  hand  at  every  point  where  be  thought  he  could 
benefit  tliem.  I  well  remember  my  own  personal  experience  of  his  friendly 
attentions,  on  a  visit  which  I  made  to  him  in  an  early  part  of  my  ministry; — 
how  much  I  was  at  once  gratified  and  impressed  by  his  words  of  kindness 
and  encouragement. 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  that  Dr.  Clarke,  though  the  farthest  removed 
from  superstition,  should,  within  a  year  of  his  death,  have  had  a  dream 
which  seemed  literally  to  forewarn  him  of  his  approaching  demise.  Some  years 
before  his  death,  he  was  called  to  part  with  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends, 
and  a  member  of  his  church,  Dr.  Nathaniel  W.  Appleton,  with  whom  he  had 
enjoyed  much  intimate  and  delightful  intercourse,  and  on  account  of  whose 
death  he  preached  a  Sermon  which  was  printed,  from  the  text, — "  Lover  and 
friend  hast  thou  put  far  from  me,  and  my  acquaintance  into  darkness."  Not 
long  before  Dr.  Clarke's  death,  he  dreamed  that  his  friend  paid  him  a  visit 
from  the  world  of  spirits,  and  though  apparently  rejoiced  to  meet  him,  yet 
Kcemcd  perfectly  reserved  on  topics  relating  to  the  other  world.  Dr.  Clarke, 
with  the  freedom  he  had  always  felt  in  conversing  with  his  friend,  besought 
him  to  give  him  some  particular  information  in  regard  to  the  scenes  beyond 
the  vail.  Dr.  Appleton,  with  great  solemnity,  checked  his  importunity  in 
some  such  language  as  the  following:  "  It  is  not  permitted  me  to  satisfy  your 
curiosity  on  the  subjects  proposed;  but  this  I  can  tell  you,  that,  before  the 
expiration  of  another  year,  you  will  know  the  truth  from  your  own  observa- 
tion."    The  emotions  awakened  by  this  reply  suddenly  awoke  Dr.  Clarke, 


JOHN    CLARKE.  109 

and  he  immediately  communicated  the  dream  to  his  wife.     The  prediction  was 
singularly  verified. 

Dr.  Clarke's  preaching,  as  you  will  see  by  his  published  sermons,  was 
practical  rather  than  doctrinal.  lie  is  said  to  have  been  an  Arian  in  theory, 
though  I  am  not  aware  that  he  ever  expressed  his  views  publiclj'  in  favour  of 
that  S3'stem.  In  the  former  part  of  his  ministry,  he  often  preached  in  favour 
of  the  doctrine  of  final  restoration,  as  held  and  defended  by  Dr.  Chauncy,  his 
colleague;  but,  during  the  latter  part,  he  observed  a  profound  silence  in  respect 
to  that  subject;  nor  could  a  single  discourse  relating  to  it  be  found  among  his 
manuscripts.  I  am  very  truly,  your  friend  and  brother, 

JOHN  PIERCE. 

FROM  THE  REV.  IMICAII  STONE. 

Brookfield,  Mass..  August  30,  1847. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  2Gth  inst.,  and  can  assure 
you  that  it  affords  me  satisfaction  to  learn  that,  though  years  have  passed 
since  we  met,  I  have  not  lost  my  place  in  your  kind  remembrance,  and  that 
there  is  any  way  in  which  I  can  render  myself  useful   to  you. 

In  respect  to  my  old  friend.  Dr.  John  Clarke,  I  was  very  intimate  with  him 
in  my  early  days,  and,  besides  having  frequent  opportunities  to  listen  to  him 
in  the  pulpit,  I  was  under  his  direction,  more  than  that  of  any  one  else,  in 
my  theological  studies.  As  a  man  he  possessed,  I  may  say,  very  uncommon 
attractions.  His  intellect  was  of  a  superior  order;  his  taste  refined  and  exact; 
and  all  his  utterances,  whether  in  or  out  of  the  pulpit,  showed  the  highly 
accomplished  scholar.  His  disposition  was  uncommonly  benevolent,  and  he 
seemed  to  take  delight  in  ministering  to  the  happiness  of  any  of  his  fellow 
creatures.  His  manners  did  full  justice  to  his  uncommonly  amiable  charac- 
ter, and  showed  also  that  he  had  been  used  to  the  atmosphere  of  cultivated 
society.  He  moved  about  among  liis  people  and  in  the  community  at  large 
with  a  simplicity,  dignity  and  kindliness,  wliich  would  have  made  him  a  man 
of  mark,  independently  of  his  acknowledged  intellectual  superiority.  His 
manner  in  the  pulpit  was  not  only  remarkably  free  from  faults,  but  was  char- 
acterized by  a  reverent  and  solemn  earnestness  that  made  it  well  nigh  irre- 
sistible. He  was  far  in  advance  of  nearly  all  his  contemporaries  as  a  graceful, 
perspicuous  and  polished  writer.  Though  his  thoughts  were  far  from  being 
common-place,  in  any  objectionable  sense  of  that  word,  the  words  in  which 
they  were  expressed  were  so  felicitously  chosen  that  they  were  brought  within 
the  legitimate  range  of  even  the  humblest  intellect.  His  prayers  partook  of 
the  same  studied  and  elegant  diction  with  his  sermons;  and  they  Avere  proba- 
bly prepared  with  equal  care.  I  remember  he  used  to  say,  in  praying  for  the 
spread  of  Divine  truth, — "Wherever  there  are  human  beings  to  contemplate 
thy  character,  there  may  thy  name  be  known,  thy  power  and  justice  revered, 
and  thy  goodness  gratefully  acknowledged."  No  minister  in  Boston,  of  his 
day,  was  more  respected,  esteemed  and  beloved,  as  a  gentleman,  a  scholar, 
and  a  preacher,  than  Dr.  Clarke.  I  am  not  aware  that  he  had  an  enemy. 
•  In  regard  to  his  views  of  religious  doctrine,  I  suppose  I  can  answer  your 
inquiries  without  scruple  or  qualification.  If  you  will  look  into  the  posthu- 
mous volume  of  his  sermons,  (and  I  think  they  are  a  fair  specimen  of  his 
general  preaching,)  you  will  find  little  or  nothing  in  them  from  which  any 
Christian  would  dissent,  and  much  that  all  Christians  would  approve  and 
admire;  but  you  will  probably  miss  some  things  which  those  of  us,  who  are 
commonly  called  "  orthodox"  would  wish  to  see.  I  remember  his  telling  me,  as 
an  illustration  of  the  deficiencies  imputed  to  him  by  the  Calvinists  of  that  day, 
that  a  certain  old  Puritan,  on  hearing  him  preach,  went  out  of  the  church,  say- 


110  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

ing, — "Eeans  in  a  bladder — no  food  to-day  for  poor  perishing  souls."  Though, 
in  accordance  with  the  then  prevailing  usage,  he  was  careful  not  to  disturb 
the  prejudices  of  an}-^  portion  of  his  hearers  by  preaching  any  thing  in  direct 
conflict  with  what  had  been  the  accredited  orthodoxy  in  New  England,  he  did 
not  hesitate  in  private  to  acknowledge  himself  an  Arian;  and  I  think  there 
■was  no  writer  whose  works  he  valued  more  highly,  or  was  more  ready  to  rec- 
ommend, than  those  of  John  Taylor,  of  Norwich.  I  cherish  his  memory  as 
having  been  not  only  my  early  friend,  but  in  some  sense  my  patron;  and  the 
fact  that  I  have  long  since  abandoned  the  views  which  I  held,  during  my  inti- 
macy with  him,  does  not  make  it  the  less  easy  or  grateful  for  me  to  render 
this  testimony  to  his  man}'  virtues  and  accomplishments. 

I  am,  as  ever,  your  friend  and  brother, 

M.  STONE. 

FROM  THE  REV.  FRANCIS  PARKMAN,  D.  D. 

Boston,  June  10,  1849. 

Dear  Sir:  Your  request  for  my  recollections  of  my  early  Pastor,  Dr.  John 
Clarke,  touches  a  responsive  chord  in  my  heart.  He  died  while  I  was  yet  in 
my  boyhood,  but  I  have  never  ceased  to  cherish  his  memory  with  affectionate 
veneration.  Whether  what  I  shall  be  able  to  say  concerning  him  will  sub- 
serve your  purpose  I  must  leave  you  to  judge. 

Dr.  Clarke  was  distinguished  beyond  most  of  the  clergy  of  his  day,  by  the 
frequency,  freedom,  and  fiiendliness,  of  his  intercourse  with  his  people.  He 
was  a  great  favourite  with  society  at  large;  but  his  own  parishioners  he  vis- 
ited, not  only  as  a  Pastor,  but  as  a  neighbour,  brother,  and  friend.  Never 
losing  sight  of  the  decorum  and  meek  dignity  becoming  his  profession;  ever 
ready  to  avail  himself  of  opportunities  as  thsy  naturally  aross,  of  spiritual 
counsel,  which  he  preferred  to  suggest  rather  than  enforce;  and  happy  to  lis- 
ten as  well  as  to  speak,  his  visits  were  divested  of  a  merely  official  character; 
and  hence  were  most  cordially  welcomed  by  the  j'^oung  as  well  as  the  old. 
There  were  those  who  silently  contrasted  them  with  the  inflictions  of  some  of 
his  elder  brethren,  whose  approach  to  the  house  was  regarded  as  a  signal 
for  the  dispersion  of  all  the  younger  members  of  the  familj^. 

I  can  easily  imagine  that  something  like  this  would  have  been  the  experience 
of  that  far-famed  Divine,  Dr.  Chauncy;  who,  as  tradition  informs  us,  was 
accustomed  to  make  his  pastoral  visits,  which  were  short  and  far  between,  in 
an  ancient  chaise  driven  b}"-  a  negro  servant,  quite  as  ancient,  sitting  on  a 
leathern  seat  in  front,  and  concerning  whom  divers  memorable  anecdotes  are 
related.  Now  it  seems  to  us,  of  these  days,  highl}'-  probable  that,  with  all 
possible  respect  for  that  "famous  Divine,"  such  visitations,  especially  if  made, 
as  was  his  wont,  on  a  Monday  morning,  to  the  humbler  families  of  the  flock, 
interrupting  the  domestic  engagements  of  that  peculiar  season,  would  minis- 
ter to  constraint  rather  than  to  delight;  and  yet  the  more,  if  this  thoughtful 
theologian,  whose  mind  was  apt  to  be  with  his  books,  even  when  present 
bodily  with  his  friends,  should  happen  to  be  in  one  of  his  seasons  of  abstrac- 
tion; or  yet  worse,  in  one  of  those  turns  of  testy  humour,  incident  to  mortal 
man  amidst  pressing  engagements,  and  from  which  faithful  biographers  have 
told  us  that  even  Dr.  Chauncy  was  not  wholly  exempt. 

I  recollect  several  clergymen  in  Boston  at  that  day,  who  were  of  eminently 
genial  and  social  dispositions,  but  I  think  I  may  safely  say  that,  in  this  one 
regard,  the  minister  of  the  First  Church  confessedly  surpassed  them  aXl,  facile 
princeps.  The  announcement  of  a  visit  from  Dr.  Clarke  to  a  family  of  his 
flock  diffused  joy  through  tlie  whole  house;  especially  if  the  hour  was  such 
as  to  encourage  the  hope  that  he  would  remain  to  tea.     The  elders  greeted  him 


JOHN    CLARKE.  Ill 

as  a  son;  the  daughters  sat  looking  with  complacency  upon  his  undeniably 
plain  but  most  benignant  countenance,  listening  lovingly,  though  reverently, 
to  the  gentle  and  cheerful  wisdom  of  his  lips;  while  the  young  children  were 
too  happy  to  be  taken  upon  his  knees, — a  blessing  of  which  I  was  myself 
favoured  from  infancy  to  boyhood  with  a  large  experience;  and  when  he  was 
gone,  they  all  talked  together,  the  young  and  the  old,  of  the  delightful  visit, 
of  the  kindness  of  his  looks,  of  his  pleasant  and  instructive  words,  and 
began  to  count  up  the  weeks  that  must  pass  before  he  would  come  again. 

Dr.  Clarke's  published  sermons  do  not,  b}^  any  means,  account  for  all  the 
popularity  he  had  as  a  preacher.  In  order  fully  to  understand  this,  we  must 
take  into  view  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  when  the  general  strain  of  the  pulpit 
diflered  widely  from  the  present;  his  own  time  of  life,  which,  even  at  its 
close,  had  scarcely  reached  its  meridian;  the  tones  of  his  voice,  melodious 
even  to  a  certain  warbling;  his  pure,  condensed  and  classic  style,  then  attained 
by  few,  not  even  sought  by  many;  and  perhaps,  above  them  all,  the  loving 
hearts  of  his  hearers,  assuring  for  him  a  welcome  wherever  he  appeared,  and 
a  delighted  acceptance  of  all  he  uttered.  In  addition  to  this,  it  is  to  be  remem- 
bered that,  when  he  was  ordained,  in  1778,  in  the  twent3'-thiid  year  of  his 
age,  he  was  among  the  very  few  young  men  then  in  the  Boston  Association. 
The  pulpits  of  both  the  city  and  vicinity  were  occupied,  for  the  most  part,  by 
elderly  clergymen,  whose  voices  had  become  familiar,  whose  divisions  of  their 
discourses  were  man}'  and  formal,  and  whose  lives, —  surely  not  to  their  dis- 
honour may  it  be  said, — were  more  eloquent  than  their  lips.  Dr.  Chauncy, 
the  Senior  Pastor  of  the  church,  had  almost  reached  his  threescore  years  and 
ten,  when  he  received  a  colleague;  and,  with  gifts  and  learning  that  gave  him 
renown  in  all  the  churches,  could  hardly  have  been  attractive  to  the  young. 
It  has  been  said  of  him  that  he  would  sometimes  beseech  God  never  to  make 
him  an  orator;  and  one  of  his  friends  jocosely  remarked  that  his  prayer  was 
unequivocally  granted. 

The  spirit  of  a  man,  or  his  prevailing  turn,  may  sometimes  be  discovered  by 
trivial  circumstances,  especially  in  the  conduct  of  his  profession.  In  a  cler- 
gyman it  may  be  not  obscurely  exhibited  by  his  choice  of  texts  on  particular 
occasions.  This  was  signally  exemplified  in  one  instance  by  Dr.  Chauncy  and 
his  youthful  colleague.  The  work-house  in  Boston  was  the  abode  of  subjects, 
both  male  and  female,  who,  according  to  their  offences,  were  sentenced  to 
imprisonment  and  labour,  to  which,  if  thej^  proved  refractory,  as  was  some- 
times the  case  with  either  sex,  were  added,  at  the  discretion  of  the  master, 
the  intlictions  of  the  whipping  post.  Now  to  the  inmates  of  this  dwelling  it 
was  customary  for  the  clergy  of  the  town  to  preach  in  turn,  on  Sunday 
evenings.  Accordingly,  the  two  colleagues,  Dr.  Chauncy  and  Mr.  Clarke, 
officiated  with  other  brethren;  and  the  texts  selected  by  these  gentlemen  in 
one  of  their  turns  were  highly  characteristic  of  both.  Mr.  Clarke,  in  the  very 
fulness  of  his  gentleness  and  courtesj^,  addressing  himself  chiefly  to  the 
frailer  portion  of  his  hearers,  exhibited  for  his  text  and  their  instruction,  a 
part  of  Solomon's  well-known  description  of  a  virtuous  woman,  industriously 
at  work  with  her  maidens,  and  presiding  gracefully  over  her  household: 
««  She  layeth  her  hands  to  the  spindle,  and  her  hands  hold  the  distaif " — 
Proverbs  xxxi,  19.  When  Dr.  Chauncy  came,  fixing  his  regards  chiefly  upon 
the  male  portion  of  his  audience,  and  not  suffering  from  any  excess  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  other,  he  preached  from  the  words  of  the  Apostle  to  the 
Thessalonians, — "If  any  would  not  work,  neither  should  he  eat." 

It  ought  to  be  distinctly  stated,  however,  that  Dr.  Clarke's  gentle  and  cour- 
teous demeanour  was  never  at  the  expense  of  honesty;  and  he  never  permitted 
himself,  from  a  desire  to  please,  to  overlook  or  confound  moral  distinctions. 
Having,  in  a  circle  of  friends,  spoken  in  terms  of  decided  censure  of  one  whom 


112  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

nobody  could  praise,  a  lady,  who  was  present,  undertook  to  be  offended,  and 
remonstrated  with  the  Doctor  on  the  freedom  with  which  he  had  spoken  of 
her  brother.  '■  Madam,"  replied  he,  "  had  I  known  that  the  gentleman  was 
your  brother,  I  should  perhaps  have  foreborne  expressing  my  opinion;  for  I 
would  not  unnecessarily  give  pain  to  any  one.  But  now  that  my  opinion  has 
been  uttered,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  just,  your  relationship  to  the  individual 
cannot  alter  it." 

It  was  in  my  early  boyhood  that  my  much  loved  and  venerated  Pastor 
received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 
Taking,  as  I  did,  a  most  lively  interest  in  whatever  concerned  his  fame,  I  dis- 
tinctly remember  the  added  satisfaction  with  which  I  heard  him  preach  on  the 
first  Sunday  after  it  was  known  that  he  had  become  a  Doctor.  The  day  was 
stormy,  and  there  were  few  present  to  share  my  delight.  But  I  really  thought, 
and  on  returning  from  church,  witli  some  earnestness  insisted,  even  against  a 
paternal  dissentient,  that  Dr.  Clarke  exceeded  himself,  and  never  preached  so 
well.  Thus  fresh,  even  to  "greenness,"  were  my  young  ideas  as  to  the  effi- 
cacy of  a  Doctorate  to  help  to  good  preaching. 

With  every  good  wish,  I  am  truly  yours, 

FRANCIS  PARKMAN. 


EZRA  RIPLEY,  D.  D.* 

1778—1841. 

Ezra  Ripley,  a  son  of  Noah  and  Lydia  (Kent)  Ripley,  was  born  at 
Woodstock,  Conn.,  May  1,  1751,  though  tlio  family  removed  to  Barre, 
Mass.,  in  1702.  He  was  the  fifth  of  nineteen  children.  He  followed  the 
business  of  farming  until  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age  ;  but,  having  an  ardent 
thirst  for  knowledge,  as  well  as  a  decided  predilection  for  the  ministry,  he 
then  set  about  preparing  himself  for  college  ;  and,  by  the  aid  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Forbes  of  Gloucester,  was  prepared  for  admission  to  Harvard  College, 
and  was  actually  admitted  in  July,  1772.  Notwithstanding,  during  his 
course,  the  College  was  not  a  little  embarrassed  in  its  operations,  from  the 
gathering,  and  at  length  bursting,  storm  of  the  Revolution,  he  made  the 
most  diligent  use  of  his  opportunities,  and  had  a  good  rank  as  a  scholar  in 
a  class  distinguished  for  an  unusual  proportion  of  eminent  men.  His  con- 
duct was  marked  also  by  the  strictest  morality  and  propriety,  insomuch 
that  he  was  designated  by  his  classmates  as  the  "holy  Ripley." 

After  his  graduation,  he  was,  for  some  time,  engaged  in  teaching  a 
school  in  Plymouth,  and  subsequently  studied  Theology,  for  about  a  year, 
under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Jason  Haven,  of  Dedham.  Shortly  after 
he  was  licensed  to  preach,  the  church  and  Society  in  Concord,  Mass.,  invi- 
ted him,  with  great  unanimity,  to  become  their  minister.  He  accepted 
their  invitation,  and  was  ordained  on  the  7th  of  November,  1778.  During 
several  of  the  first  years  of  his  ministry,  he,  in  common  with  many  other 
clergymen  of  the  day,  suffered  not  a  little  from  the  depreciated  currency, 
and  other  circumstances  connected  with  the   Revolution ;    but  his  early 

•  Dr.  Ripley's  Half  Cent.  Serm. — Sermons  occasioned  by  his  death. 


EZRA    RIPLEY.  113 

training  hail  been  favourable  to  physical  eflfort,  and  he  addressed  himself 
to  the  labours  of  the  field  with  as  much  success  as  if  he  had  never  known 
any  other  employment.  He,  however,  felt  it  as  a  great  evil  that  his  atten- 
tion was  so  much  diverted  from  his  appropriate  work,  and  has  been  heard 
to  say  that  he  would  have  cheerfully  lived  on  bread  and  water,  if,  by  so 
doing,  he  could  have  had  his  whole  time  for  the  studies  and  duties  of  his 
office. 

In  early  childhood,  he  seems  to  have  evinced  a  deep  moral  sensibility, 
and  to  have  been  especially  impressed  with  the  guilt  of  telling  a  lie.  But 
it  was  not  until  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age  that  his  mind  took  a  decidedly 
serious  direction.  In  a  terrible  thunderstorm,  the  bolt  of  heaven  descended, 
and,  in  his  own  expressive  language,  "  licked  up  the  spirit"  of  a  fellow 
being  before  his  eyes.  Probably  to  this  circumstance  was  to  be  referred 
the  purpose  which  he  formed  of  devoting  himself  to  the  ministry. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  record  which  he  kept  of  some  of  the 
more  striking  passages  and  experiences  of  his  life  : — 

"  Having  set  apart  this  6th  day  of  November,  1778,  as  a  day  of  secret  fosting  and 
prayer,  previous  to  my  expected  Ordination,  I  have  rencwedly  and  solemnly  dedicated 
myself  to  God  and  his  service,  and  have  most  seriously  formed  in  his  presence  the  fol- 
lowing resolutions: 
"  Resolved, 

"  1.  That  I  will  endeavour  more  in  future  to  live  agreeably  to  my  vows. 

"  2.  That  I  will  maintain  a  daily  and  close  walk  with  God. 

"  3.  That  I  will  not  lose  nor  misspend  precious  time. 

"  4.  That  I  will  govern  my  passions. 

"  6.  That  I  will  observe  strict  temperance  in  eating  and  drinking. 

"  6.  That  I  will  daily  watch  for  opportunities  to  do  good. 

"  7.  That  I  will  follow  the  rule, — '  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto, 
you.  do  ye  even  so  to  them.' 

"8.  Tluit  I  will  every  evening  reflect  on  the  transactions  of  the  day,  and  inquire- 
what  and  where  I  might  have  done  more  and  better. 

"  9.  That  I  will  saidy  the  Holy  Scriptures  with  so  much  diligence  and  application, 
as  may  make  evident  to  me  my  increase  of  knowledge  therein. 

"  10.  That  I  will  not  allow  myself  in  vain  and  trilling  conversation. 

"  These  to  be  read  or  said  once  a  week." 

At  the  close  of  thirty  years  he  writes  as  follows  : — 

"  With  penitence  for  my  frequent  deviations  from  the  fixed  purposes  of  my  heart,, 
and  humble  application  to  the  throne  of  grace,  I  do  renew  my  engagements  to  the- 
Lord  in  the  ministry,  and  particularly  to  observe  with  increased  care  the  preceding, 
resolutions." 

At  the  close  of  forty  years  he  makes  the  following  entry  : — 

"  There  is  an  increased  attention  of  many  of  my  people  to  religion.  I  see  reason  to 
be  deeply  humble  that,  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  I  have  done  no  more  and  no  better,, 
and  to  bo  unfeignedly  thankful  that  God  has  so  far  owned  and  bles.sed  my  labours;: 
that  so  many  of  my  people  exhibit  substantial  evidence  of  possessing  real  religion,  and 
are  generally  so  well  united  in  religious  and  civil  concerns.  It  is  a  rich  comfort  to  me 
that,  by  the  grace  of  God.  I  am  conscious  of  unabated  zeal  and  resolution  in  the  proper 
duties  of  my  office,  and  to  devote  anew  the  remainder  of  ray  days  and  strength  t®  pro- 
mote the  spiritual  interests  of  my  people,  accomplish  my  ministerial  work,  aaid  to  be 
faithful  unto  the  death."  He  adds,— "I  have  half  a'mind  to  erase  the  preceding,, 
because  it  seems  to  savour  of  self-applause,  and  promise  what  may  never  be  done.  Bat 
will  God,  in  boundless  condescension,  accept  my  desires,  grant  me  mercy  to  pardon,, 
and  grace  to  help,  and  success  to  crown,  through  my  blessed  Redeemer." 

He  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinitv,  from  Harvard 
College,  in  1816. 

At  the  time  of  his  settlement,  there  were  serious  divisions  in  the  town,, 
which  had  originated  during  the  ministry  of  his  two  predecessors ;  But  he- 

VoL.  vni.  8 


114  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

quickly  succeeded  in  healing  them,  and  for  forty  years  the  whole  town 
remained  firmly  united  under  his  ministry.  "  He  was  educated,"  as  the  Ser- 
mon preached  at  his  Funeral  informs  us,  "  in  the  Trinitarian  and  Calvin- 
istic  doctrines  ;"  but  his  views  seem  to  have  undergone  a  gradual  change, — 
so  gradual  that  perhaps  he  was  himself  scarcely  aware  of  the  extent  of  it. 
There  was  little  of  incident  in  his  history  above  what  belongs  to  the  his- 
tory of  almost  every  parish  minister.  He  held  on  the  even  tenor  of  his  way, 
greatly  respected  and  revered  by  the  community  in  which  he  lived,  until 
eixty-three  years  from  the  time  of  his  ordination,  and  ninety  from  the  time 
of  his  birth,  had  passed  away.  In  his  Half-Century  Discourse,  preached 
in  1828,  he  expresses  the  opinion  that  he  had  written,  in  the  course  of  his 
ministry,  not  less  than  twenty-five  hundred  sermons,  many  of  which  he  had 
repeated,  and  not  a  few  had  re-written.  Within  the  last  three  or  four 
years  of  his  life,  on  account  of  the  loss  of  his  sight,  he  commenced  preach- 
ing extempore  ;  and,  contrary  to  all  that  might  have  been  anticipated  from 
his  long  continued  habit  of  writing  whatever  he  delivered,  he  uttered  him- 
self with  as  much  fluency  and  propriety  as  if  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
this  mode  of  preaching  during  his  whole  ministry.  His  last  sermon, 
preached  the  day  after  he  was  ninety  years  old,  on  the  last  two  verses  of 
the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes,  is  said  to  have  been,  for  vigour  of  thought  and 
expression,  worthy  of  his  best  days. 

His  death  was  finally  sudden.  On  Friday  evening,  September  18,  1841, 
a  friend  from  a  distance  visited  him,  and  they  passed  the  evening  in  delight- 
ful intercourse  ;  and,  at  the  close  of  it.  Dr.  Ripley  led  in  the  family  devo- 
tions with  unusual  fervour  and  appropriateness.  He  retired  in  perfect 
health,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  was  seized  with  a  paralytic  affec- 
tion, which  took  the  form  of  a  lethargy,  from  which  he  never  awoke.  He 
lingered  till  the  next  Tuesday  morning,  about  four  o'clock,  when  the  spirit 
took  its  flight.  His  Funeral  took  place  on  the  succeeding  Thursday,  Sep- 
tember 23d,  on  which  occasion  there  was  every  demonstration  of  respect 
for  his  memory.  The  Sermon  was  by  his  colleague  in  the  ministry,  the 
Rev.  B.  Frost,  from  John  xvii,  4.  Another  Sermon,  with  reference  to  the 
event,  was  delivered  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Francis  of  Watertown,  (afterwards 
Professor  Francis  of  Harvard  College,)  from  Genesis  xxv,  8.  Both  the 
I>isL'ourses  were  published. 

Dr.  Ripley  was  through  life  a  zealous  friend  of  Harvard  College.  The 
following  entry  in  the  private  record  above  referred  to  may  illustrate  it : — 

"  August  27,  1824.  Attended  Commencement  at  Cambridge,  probably- for  the  last 
time.  My  feelings  and  determination  united  in  taking  leave  of  Commencement,  wliich 
has  long  been  a  day  of  enjoyment  and  delight  to  me.  I  find  myself  too  old  (or  the 
fatiaiie  and  long  services  of  the  day.  I  did  not  meet  one  classmate.  I  felt  myself  out 
of  date,  and  though  not  treated  with  neglect,  yet  I  am  satisfied  with  scenes  of  the 
kind.  I  was  liiglily  gratified  with  the  performances  of  the  day,  and  by  the  manifest 
increase  of  learning  and  intellect  in  the  College.  The  peifornianccs  of  the  next  day 
were  e-xcellent  and  very  animating.  This  and  the  preceding  day  were  rendered  more 
highly  joyous  by  the  presence  of  General  Lafayette.  I  know  not  that  I  ever  enjoyed 
a  Commencement  with  a  higher  relish  or  less  alloy ;  and  I  never  was  more  gratified  by 
•evidence  of  the  improvements  made  in  the  University.  It  is  a  matter  of  rejoicing  and 
•gratitude  that  I  can  bid  adieu  to  Commencements  with  such  high  and  well-grounded 
hopes  of  the  future  splendour  and  usefulness  of  Harvard  University.  Will  God  mul- 
tiply blessings  on  my  venerated  Alma  Mater  to  the  latest  generations!" 

He  did,  however,  attend  Commencement  after  this  :  the  last  time  was 


EZRA   RIPLEY.  115 

in  1836,  at  the  second  Centennial  Anniversary,  at  wbich  he  offered  a 
prayer. 

Dr.  Ripley  was  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  Temperance  cause.  More  than 
thirty  years  before  his  death,  he  made  an  earnest  and  a  successful  effort 
to  break  up  the  habit  among  his  people  of  using  intoxicating  drinks  at 
Funerals.  He  was  a  niembLr  of  the  old  Massachusetts  Society  for  the 
Suppression  of  Intemperance ;  and  when  the  new  organization  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  total  abstinence  was  formed,  he  promptly  signed  the  pledge,  not- 
withstanding his  pliysician  expressed  an  opinion  adverse  to  the  measure. 

The  following  extract  from  Dr.  Ripley's  Half-Century  Sermon  contains 
his  own  account  of  his  views  of  Christian  doctrine  : — 

"  My  first  sermon  was  from  1  Cor.  ii,  2:  'For  I  determined  not  to  know  any  thing 
among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified.'  This  sermon  I  have  repeated  to 
you.  It  ever  lias  been,  and  still  is,  my  undeviating  endeavour  and  resolution  to  preach 
according  to  the  import  and  design  of  those  words.  In  respect  to  the  leading  and 
essential  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  I  know  not  that  my  sentiments  are  materially 
changed.  On  searching  the  Scriptures,  it  may  well  be  supposed  that  I  have  gained 
some  farther  light,  and  acquired  a  better  understanding  of  them.  The  manner  of 
expressing  my  ideas  also  may  he  different.  But  I  am  not  sensible  of  having  departed 
in  any  degree  from  the  doctrines  properly  called  the  'doctrines  of  grace.'  The  doc- 
trine of  three  equal  persons  in  one  God  I  do  not  call  a  doctrine  of  grace  or  of  the 
Gospel.  We  do  not  find  it  taught  in  the  Gospel.  Whether  it  be  true  or  not,  it  is  not 
written  in  the  inspired  Scriptures.  Tlie  doctrine  was  first  taught  by  fallible  men. 
*  *  *  *  But  I  have  uniformly  believed  and  preaclied  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  promised  Messiah,  the  onlj"  and  all-sufticient  Saviour  of  sinners,  owned,  anointed, 
and  authorized  by  God  as  his  Son,  whom  he  sent  into  the  world  for  the  great  purpose 
of  insti'iicting  and  redeeming  sinful  men,  of  declaring  his  will,  displaying  his  disposi- 
tion, righteousness,  mercy  and  whole  character,  and  of  mediating  between  God  and 
his  intelligent  creatures;  and  that  He  was  endowed  by  the  Father  with  all  Divine 
powers  requisite  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  great  work  assigned  Him.  I  believe 
that  He  conies  to  us  in  the  name  and  autliority  of  God;  and  that,  therefore,  we  owe 
Him  reverence  and  honour,  love  and  obedience;  and  also  that  the  time  and  manner  of 
his  invisible  existence,  the  extent  of  his  dignity  and  all  tlie  relations  He  sustains  towards 
God  and  the  universe,  '  no  one  knoweth,  save  the  Father  only.' 

"  On  other  doctrines,  such  as  the  early  apostacy  of  man,  moral  human  depravity, 
regeneration,  that  is,  a  moral  change  of  heart  an<l  life  in  sinners  in  order  to  liajjpiness 
and  Heaven,  the  need  of  Divine  influence  to  effect  that  change;  justification  through 
faith  in  Christ  to  all  who  repent  and  obey  the  Gospel;  Jesus  Christ  the  minister  of 
reconciliation  to  God,  and  the  meritorious  agent  and  medium  of  mercy  to  penitent  sin- 
ners; cliarity  and  holiness  as  necessary  to  the  happiness  of  Heaven;  a  judgment  to 
come  by  the  Son  of  God,  wlien  the  wicked  will  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment, 
and  the  righteous  into  life  eternal — on  these  and  similar  doctrines  I  have  been  full  in 
believing  and  constant  in  preaching  " 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Ripley's  publications  : — 
A  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  William  Emerson,  at  Har- 
vard, 1791.  A  Sermon  delivered  on  the  Completion  of  a  General  Repair 
of  the  jMeeting  House  in  Concord,  1792.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordi- 
nation of  Roi^ewell  Messenger,*  1798.  A  Sermon  delivered  on  occasion  of 
the  Execution  of  Samuel  Smith,  for  Burglary,  1799.  A  Masonic  Dis- 
course, delivered  at  Greenfield,  Mass.,  1802.  A  Masonic  Discourse,  deliv- 
ered at  Haverhill,  Mass.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  his 
Son,  Samuel  Ripley,  1809.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  Acton,  at  the  Inter- 
ment of  Mrs.  Abigail  Adams,  wife  of  the  Rev.  Moses  Adams, t  1812.     A 

*  RosEWELL  Messenger  was  a  native  of  HoUiston,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1797;  was  ordained,  and  installed  as  Colleague  Pastor  with  the  Rev.  Isaac  Lyman, 
of  the  First  Church  in  York,  Me.,  October  10,  1798;  was  dismissed  in  1S13,  and  died  in  1844. 

f  Moses  Adams  was  born  at  Framingham,  October  16,  1749;  was  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1771;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  church  in  Acton,  June  25,  1777; 
and  died  October  13,  1819,  aged  seventy. 


116  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  John  White,*  1814.  A  Sermon 
delivered  at  the  Installation  of  the  llev.  William  Frothingham,  1819.  A 
Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  E.  Q.  Sewall,  1819.  A  Discourse 
on  Education,  delivered  at  the  Opening  of  several  new  School  Houses, 
1820.  Several  Charges  and  Right  Hands  of  Fellowship,  at  Ordinations 
and  Installations.  History  of  the  Concord  Fight,  on  the  19th  April,  1775, 
1827.  A  Sermon  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  1827.  A  Half-Centurj  Ser- 
mon, 1828.     A  Sermon  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  1829. 

Dr.  Ripley  was  married,  on  the  16th  of  November,  1780,  to  Mrs.  Phoebe 
Bliss)  Emerson,  widow  of  the  Rev.  William  Emerson,  of  Concord.  They 
had  three  children, — one  daughter  and  two  sons.  The  youngest  son,  Da7i' 
iel  Bliss,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1805,  settled  us  a  lawyer 
in  Alabama,  and  died  there  in  1825.  Mrs.  Ripley  died  on  the  IGth  of 
February,  1825. 

Dr.  Ripley's  eldest  son,  Samuel,  was  born  in  Concord,  March  11, 
1783  ;  was  fitted  for  College  in  the  public  schools  of  his  native  town,  and 
graduated  at  Cambridge,  in  good  standing,  in  1804.  After  teaching  a  short 
time  in  the  South,  he  prepared  for  the  ministry,  and  was  ordained  on  the  22d 
of  November,  1809,  over  the  Congregational  Church  in  Waltham,  as  suc- 
cessor to  the  venerable  Dr.  Cushing.  After  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Rern- 
ard  Whitman,  it  was  proposed  that  the  two  Unitarian  Societies  in  Walt- 
ham  should  be  united  in  one,  under  the  pastoral  care  of  Mr.  Ripley, 
associated  with  a  colleague.  Accordingly,  on  the  27th  of  October,  1841, 
Mr.  George  F.  Simmons  was  settled  as  colleague.  After  a  short  ministry, 
he  resigned  his  office,  and  Mr.  Thomas  Hill  (now  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hill,  Presi- 
dent of  Harvard  College)  was  ordained  as  his  successor.  31r.  Ripley, 
thinking  it  would  be  too  great  a  burden  for  the  Society  to  support  two  min- 
isters, resigned  his  salary,  and  all  responsibleness  as  minister  of  the  Society 
at  AValtham,  before  his  first  colleague  was  settled,  and  soon  after  took  the 
pastoral  charge  of  the  Unitarian  Church  in  Lincoln.  In  the  spring  of 
1846,  he  removed  to  Concord,  and  took  up  his  residence  in  the  house  in 
which  he  had  spent  his  early  years.  He  died  suddenly,  in  his  carriage,  of 
disease  of  the  heart,  on  his  way  home  from  the  railroad  depot,  in  the  midst 
of  his  children,  on  the  24  h  of  November,  1847,  at  the  age  of  sixty-four. 
Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  says  of  him, — "  He  was  a  man  of  ardent  tempera- 
ment, frank,  generous,  affectionate,  public-spirited,  and  with  a  humble  esti- 
mate of  himself." 

I  once  had  the  privilege  of  passing  a  night  under  Dr.  Ripley's  roof.  He 
was  then  an  old  man,  but  full  of  life  and  spirit.  I  was  struck  with  the 
frankness  and  generosity  of  his  manner,  and  the  simple  but  warm-hearted 
hospitality  with  which  lie  received  me.  His  conversation  delighted  me, 
not  only  because  it  indicated  great  intelligence,  but  because  it  was  about 
old  times  and  old  things,  in  which  I  felt  a  special  interest.  I  well  remem- 
ber how  much  he  was  at  home  amidst  the  stirring  incidents  of  the  Revo- 
lution, and  how  vividly  he  painted  many  of  the  scenes  of  that  eventful 
period.     As  he  talked  to  me  of  Hancock  and  other  illustrious  men  who 

*  John  Whitk  was  born  in  Concord  in  1787;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1805; 
■was  a  Tutor  in  Bowdoin  College  in  1808-09 ;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  West 
Church  in  Dedham,  April  20,  1814;  and  died  in  1852. 


EZRA    RIPLEY.  117 

■were  associated  witli  liini,  in  the  days  that  tried  men's  souls,  he  kindled 
into  a  fervour  of  lofty  and  patriotic  feeling,  and  the  past  seemed  to  be 
reproduced  in  his  vivid  impressions  and  recollections.  I  thought  him  a 
fine  specimen  of  an  old  school  gentleman.  He  adverted  with  considerable 
interest  to  the  great  religious  controversy  that  was  then  going  on  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, and,  in  a  very  decided  but  dDurteous  manner,  expressed  his 
dissent  from  the  views  and  measures  of  the  Orthodox  party. 

FROM  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

Concord,  October  25,  1848. 

Mj''  dear  Sir:  It  will  be  easy,  as  it  is  grateful,  to  me  to  answer  your  inqui- 
ries in  legard  to  Dr.  llij^ley,  as  I  still  have  by  me  some  sketches  which  I 
attempted  of  his  character  very  soon  after  his  decease.  Indeed,  he  is  still 
freshly  remembered  in  all  this  neighbourhood.  He  was  a  man  so  kind  and  sym- 
pathetic, his  character  was  so  transparent,  and  his  merits  so  fntelligible  to  all 
observers,  that  he  was  very  justly  appreciated  in  this  communit}'.  He  was  a 
natural  gentleman;  no  dandy,  but  courtly,  hospitable,  manly,  and  public 
spirited;  his  nature  social,  his  house  open  to  all  men.  I  remember  the  remark 
made  by  an  old  farmer,  who  used  to  travel  hither  from  Maine,  that  "no  horse 
from  the  Eastern  country  would  go  by  the  Doctor's  gate."  Travellers  from 
the  West  and  North  and  South  could  bear  the  like  testimony.  His  brow  was 
serene  and  open  to  his  visitor,  for  he  loved  men,  and  he  had  no  studies,  no 
occupations,  which  company  could  interrupt.  His  friends  were  his  study, 
and  to  see  them  loosened  his  talents  and  his  tongue.  In  his  house  dwelt 
order,  and  prudence,  and  plenty;  there  was  no  waste  and  no  stint;  he  was 
open-banded  and  just  and  geneious.  Ingratitude  and  meanness  in  his  beneti- 
ciaries  did  not  wear  out  his  compassion;  he  bore  the  insult,  and  the  next  day 
his  basket  for  the  beggar,  his  horse  and  chaise  for  the  cripple,  were  at  their 
door.  Though  he  knew  the  value  of  a  dollar  as  well  as  another  man,  yet  he 
loved  to  buy  dearer  and  sell  cheaper  than  others.  He  subscribed  to  all  chari- 
ties, and  it  is  no  reflection  on  others  to  say  that  he  was  the  most  public  spir- 
ited man  in  the  town.  The  late  Dr.  Gardiner,  in  a  Funeral  Sermon  on  some 
parishioner,  whose  virtues  did  not  readily  come  to  mind,  honestly  said, — "He 
was  good  at  fires."  Dr.  Ripley  had  many  virtues,  and  yet  all  will  remember 
that,  even  in  his  old  age,  if  the  tire  bell  was  rung,  he  was  instantly  on  horse- 
back with  his  buckets  and  bag. 

He  was  never  distinguished  in  the  pulpit  as  a  Avriter  of  sermons,  but  in 
his  house  his  speech  was  form  and  pertinence  itself.  You  felt,  in  his  presence, 
that  he  belonged  by  nature  to  the  clerical  class.  He  had  a  foresight,  when  he 
opened  his  mouth,  of  all  that  he  would  say,  and  he  marched  straight  to  the 
conclusion.  In  private  discourse  or  in  debate,  in  the  vestry  or  the  lyccum, 
the  structure  of  his  sentences  was  admirable, — so  neat,  so  natural,  so  terse, 
his  words  fell  like  stones,  and  often,  though  quite  unconscious  of  it,  his  speech 
was  a  satire  on  the  loose,  voluminous,  patch-work  periods  of  other  speakers. 
He  sat  down  when  he  had  done.  A  man  of  anecdote,  his  talk  in  the  parlour 
was  chiefly  nariative.  I  remember  the  remark  of  a  gentleman,  who  listened 
with  much  delight  to  his  conversation,  at  the  time  when  the  Doctor  was  pre- 
paring to  go  to  Baltimore  and  Washington,  that  "a  man  who  could  tell  a 
story  so  well  was  company  for  kings  and  John  Quincy  Adams."  With  a 
very  limited  acquaintance  with  books,  his  knowledge  was  an  external  experi- 
ence, an  Indian  wisdom,  the  observation  of  such  facts  as  country  life,  for 
nearly  a  century,  could  supply.  He  watched  Avith  interest  the  garden,  the 
field,  the  orchard,  the  house  and  the  barn,  horse,  cow,  sheep  and  dog,  and  all 


118  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

the  common  objects  that  engage  the  thought  of  the  farmer.  He  kept  his  eye 
on  the  horizon,  and  knew  the  weather  like  a  sea-captain.  The  usual  experi- 
ences of  men, — birtli,  marriage,  sickness,  death,  burial,  the  common  tempta- 
tions, the  common  ambitions,  he  studied  them  all,  and  sympathized  so  well  in 
these  that  he  was  excellent  company  and  counsel  to  all,  even  the  most  hum- 
ble and  ignorant.  AVith  extraordinary  states  of  mind,  with  states  of  enthu- 
siasm, or  enlarged  speculation,  he  liad  no  sympathy  and  pretended  to  none. 
He  was  very  sincere,  and  kept  to  his  point,  and  his  mark  was  never  remote. 
His  conversation  was  strictly  personal,  and  apt  to  the  person  and  the  occasion. 
An  eminent  skill  he  had  in  saying  difficult  and  unspeakable  things;  in  deliv- 
ering to  a  man  or  a  woman  that  which  all  their  other  friends  had  abstained  from 
saying;  in  uncovering  the  bandage  from  a  sore  place,  and  applying  the  sur- 
geon's knife  with  a  truly  surgical  spiiit.  Was  a  man  a  sot,  or  a  spendthiift, 
or  too  long  time  a  batchelor,  or  suspected  of  some  hidden  crime,  or  bad  he 
quarrelled  with  his  wife,  or  collared  his  father,  or  was  there  any  cloud  or 
suspicious  circumstance  in  his  behaviour,  the  good  pastor  knew  his  way 
straight  to  that  point,  believing  himself  entitled  to  a  full  explanation;  and 
Avhatever  relief  to  the  conscience  of  both  parties  plain  speech  could  effect,  was 
sure  to  be  procured.  In  all  such  passages  he  justified  himself  to  the  con- 
science, and  commonly  to  the  love,  of  the  persons  concerned.  Many  instan- 
ces, in  which  he  played  a  right  manly  part,  and  acquitted  himself  as  a  brave 
and  wise  man,  will  be  long  remembered.  He  was  the  more  competent  to  these 
searching  discourses,  from  his  knowledge  of  family  history.  He  knew  every- 
body's grandfather,  and  seemed  to  talk  with  each  person,  rather  as  the  rep- 
resentative of  his  house  and  name  than  as  an  individual.  In  jiim  has  per- 
ished more  local  and  personal  anecdote  of  this  village  and  vicinity  than  is 
possessed  by  any  survivor.  This  intimate  knowledge  of  families,  and  this 
skill  of  speech,  and  still  more  his  sympathy,  made  him  incomparable  in  his 
parochial  visits,  and  in  his  exhortations  and  prayers  with  sick  and  suffering 
persons.  He  gave  himself  up  to  his  feeling,  and  said  on  the  instant  the  best 
things  in  the  world.  Many  and  many  a  felicity  he  had  in  his  prayer,  now 
forever  lost,  which  defied  all  the  rules  of  all  the  rhetoricians.  He  did  not 
know  when  he  was  good  in  prayer  or  sermon,  for  he  had  no  literature  and  no 
art;  but  he  believed,  and  therefore  spoke. 

He  was  eminently  loyal  in  his  nature,  and  not  fond  of  adventure  or  innova- 
tion. By  education,  and  still  more  by  temperament,  he  was  engaged  to  the 
old  forms  of  the  New  England  Church.  Not  speculative,  but  affectionate; 
devout,  but  with  an  extreme  love  of  order,  he  adopted  heartily,  though  in  its 
mildest  forms,  the  creed  and  catechism  of  the  fathers,  and  appeared  a  modern 
Israelite  in  his  attachment  to  the  Hebrew  history  and  foith.  Thus  he  seemed, 
in  his  constitutional  leaning  to  their  religion,  one  of  the  rear-guard  of  the 
great  camp  and  army  of  the  Puritans;  and  now,  when  all  the  old  platforms 
and  customs  of  the  Church  were  losing  their  hold  in  the  affections  of  men,  it 
was  fit  that  he  should  depart,  fit  that,  in  the  fall  of  laws,  a  loyal  man  should 
die.  Yours,  with  great  respect, 

R.  W.  EMERSON. 

FROM  THE  REV.  G.  W.  IIOSMER,  D.  D. 

Buffalo,  March  14,  18G1. 
Dear  Sir:  Last  evening  I  attended  an  Old  Folks'  Concert;  the  ancient 
music  brought  back  to  me  my  old  Pastor,  Dr.  Ripley,  with  striking  distinct- 
ness; and  memories  of  him  have  so  filled  my  mind,  pleasant  and  grateful 
memories,  that  I  will  now  fulfil  the  request  you  made  to  me  when  I  last  saw 
you,  and  give  you  some  of  my  impressions. 


EZRA    RIPLEY.  119 

Dr.  Ripley  filled  the  town  to  -which  he  ministered.  Nearly  fifty  years  he 
was  the  only  minister  in  Concord,  Avith  a  parish  of  about  two  thousand  souls; 
and  to  me  and  my  cotemporaries,  he  seemed  as  much  a  part  of  the  town  as 
its  hills  and  rivers.  He  was  settled  in  the  days  of  my  great-grandfother, 
and  five  generations  of  my  family  were  partakers  in  the  benefits  of  his  min- 
istry. 

In  my  earliest  recollections,  he  appears  the  active,  urgent,  imperative  man, 
always  doing,  as  I  supposed,  just  right;  but  doing  just  as  he  pleased.  Some- 
times, his  imperativeness  became  very  stern,  whether  towards  circumstances, 
animals,  or  men.  When  I  was  a  boy,  he  had  a  horse  he  called  Caesar,  a 
magnificent  animal,  but  so  wilful  and  vicious  that  none  but  Dr.  Ripley  could 
control  him.  The  violent  creature  trembled  at  the  voice  of  his  master.  With 
that  horse  he  did  wonders.  A  young  man,  in  whom  he  was  interested,  was 
about  to  tight  a  duel  in  Boston;  Dr.  R.  did  not  hear  of  it  until  about  three 
hours  and  a  half  before  the  meeting  was  to  have  taken  place,  and  he  reached 
Boston,  eighteen  miles,  in  season  to  prevent  it. 

An  Ordination  at  Sudbury,  six  miles  from  Concord,  occurred  on  the  day  of 
a  severe  snow  storm.  The  roads  were  blocked  up,  and  snow  filled  the  air. 
My  home  was  on  the  way  from  Concord  to  Sudbury,  and  we  thought  nobody 
could  go  to  the  Ordination  that  day;  but,  at  length,  all  in  good  season,  (for  he 
was  never  late,)  came  Dr.  Ripley  on  his  way,  mounted  on  Caesar,  man  and 
horse  leaping  through  the  drifts  and  storm,  followed  by  his  two  delegates — 
they  must  go,  since  Dv.  Ripley  would.  So  the  Ordination  was  accomplished. 
At  this  time  the  Doctor  must  have  been  nearly  sixty  years  old. 

He  was  of  a  vigorous  family,  nineteen  brothers  and  sisters.  Whether 
they  all  were  as  compactly  formed,  and  energetic,  and  keen  in  every  percep- 
tion, as  was  the  Doctor,  I  know  not.  A  sister  of  his  I  once  met,  and  when 
I  told  her  that  I  was  of  her  brother's  parish,  she  fixed  her  eyes  upon  me,  and 
called  me  at  once  by  my  mother's  name.  I  told  her  she  was  half  right  — 
that  was  my  mother's  name.  "  I  thought  so,"  said  she;  "nearly  forty  years 
ago  I  met  your  mother,  I  presume,  when  she  and  I  were  girls  of  seventeen,  at 
my  brother's  house  in  Concord." 

Dr.  Ripley  was  born  to  govern.  Sometimes  this  appeared  when  it  should 
not.  Two  ladies. of  the  parish  were  spending  the  afterniion  with  Mrs.  Rip- 
ley, in  the  good  way  of  the  old  times;  one  of  them  had  a  little  boy,  and  no 
servants  at  home  to  take  care  of  him,  and  she  took  him  with  her;  but,  unhap- 
pily, the  young  rogue  took  advantage  of  his  mother's  desire  to  have  peace,  in 
the  minister's  house  at  least,  and  played  off  his  naughtiness,  until  the  Doc- 
tor took  the  culprit,  carried  him  away,  and  whipped  liim;  causing  much  grief 
and  indignation  to  the  poor  mother,  and  not  a  little  fear,  I  presume,  to  the 
young  rebel. 

When  Dr.  Ripley  was  a  young  man,  his  imperative  will  made  trouble  for  him 
and  others;  but  he  learned  to  limit  and  modify  his  imperativeness,  so  that  his 
parish  Avas  unitedly  attached  to  him,  and  unusually  harmonious.  They  were 
willing  he  should  have  his  way,  because  they  had  the  fullest  confidence  in  his 
integritj%  Sometimes  there  Avas  a  ripple.  The  Doctor  liked  the  old  custom  of 
putting  up  notes  after  the  birth  of  children,  and  insisted  on  its  continuance, 
long  after  it  had  ceased  in  neighbouring  parishes;  and,  in  defence  of  the  custom, 
he  preached  so  terribly  about  the  perils  of  child-birth,  that  the  village  phy- 
sicians feared  the  effects  upon  the  nerves  of  those  most  deeply  interested.     At 

length  Mr.  H ,  a  Deacon  of  the  church,  was  bold  enough   to  carry  out  an 

infant  for  Baptism  in  the  church,  without  having  put  up  a  note.  The  Doctor 
saw  the  whole  ground,  planted  himself  on  his  principle,  and  there  he  stood 
by  the  font.     The   congregation,  intent  upon   the  simple  and   beautiful  rite> 


120  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

waited  in  expectation.     The  Doctor  called  Mr.  11 to  him  and  said, «'  TVhy 

have  you  put  up  no    note   since   the  birth   of  this  child  ?"     "  Becau.se,"  said 

Mr.  H ,  "  I  thought  it  not  best."     Said  the  Doctor,  "  I  think  it  is  best!" 

""Well,  said  Mr.  H ,  "don't  keep  nie  here;  do  something."  So  the  Doc- 
tor oflered  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  for  the  birth  of  the  child,  and  the  safety 
of  the  mother,  and  having,  as  far  as  possible,  made  up  for  the  omission,  he 
then  peiformed  the  rite  of  Baptism. 

It  was  not  true  of  Dr.  Ripley  that  his  pulpit  was  his  throne.  As  a 
Preacher,  he  was  sensible  and  serious,  always  moving  in  the  ranges  of  com- 
mon thought  and  practical  life.  lie  kept  up  his  scholarly  habits  better  than 
most  country  clergymen  of  his  time;  but  he  had  no  genius;  his  mind  was 
hard,  and  the  fires  of  his  feeling  did  not  make  it  fluent  in  the  pulpit,  and  his 
manner  was  not  graceful  nor  winning.  His  throne  was  his  character,  and 
he  sat  upon  it,  a  born  king.  Some  might  say  he  was  arbitrary  and  imperi- 
ous; but  all  knew  he  was  a  man,  fearless  in  his  duty,  and  determined  to 
walk  in  the  ordinances  of  his  God  and  Saviour,  blameless. 

In  parochial  service,  Dr.  Ripley  was  a  pattern  of  fidelity.  Every  corner  of 
the  town,  every  house,  knew  his  friendly  greeting.  lie  knew  all  about  every 
faniilj^  and  their  ancestors,  often  better  than  they  themselves  knew.  Before 
Sunday  Schools  were  organized,  he  met  albthe  children,  at  their  school  houses, 
twice  a  year,  for  catechising;  and  those  who  did  not  know  their  catechism, 
were  made  to  feel  that  they  must  know  it  before  the  next  parochial  round.  It 
was  a  great  moment,  when  we  stood  up,  for  the  first  time,  at  the  call  of  our 
name,  before  Dr.  Ripley.  Then  he  was  the  main  stay  of  the  common  schools, 
and  all  the  benevolent  and  social  organizations  of  the  town.  The  Courts  of 
Middlesex,  one-half  of  them,  were  held  at  Concord,  and  Dr.  Ripley,  by  his 
dignitied  and  venerable  bearing,  and  highly  appropriate  services,  won  the  deep 
respect  of  the  Judges  and  the  Bar.  An  old  lawyer,  who  was  often  employed 
by  Mr.  Webster  to  make  briefs  for  his  law  arguments,  once  told  me  that  Dr. 
Ripley  was  the  only  minister  he  knew,  who  always  prayed  consistently  at  the 
opening  of  a  Court.  Dr.  R.  occupied  a  prominent  position;  he  had  eminent 
persons  near  him,  and  was  always  held  in  honour.  The  sanctity  of  his  life 
was  his  best  tribute  humbly  laid  at  his  Master's  feet. 

At  home.  Dr.  Ripley  was  alwaj\s  the  courtly  gentleman,  bringing  the  dress 
and  manners  of  the  last  century  nearly  to  the  middle  of  this.  His  house 
was  a  venerable  mansion,  the  home  of  ministers  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years,  and  now  is  glorified  as  the  "  Old  Manse,"  of  Hawthorne's  Tales. 
When  a  boy,  I  was  often  sent  to  bear  some  gift,  the  product  of  my  father's 
farm,  or  flock,  or  herd.  Those  visits  were  eras  in  my  young  life.  The  Doc- 
tor was  always  called,  from  his  study  or  from  the  parlour,  and  I,  like  an 
ambassador,  was  recognized  and  charged  with  thanks  and  compliments  to  my 
home  government.  With  what  deep  veneration  I  then  looked  upon  our  min- 
ister! And  afterwards,  when  I,  a  Theological  student,  went,  at  his  request, 
and  spent  Saturday  night  in  his  house,  that  I  might  be  prepared  for  Sunday, 
and  preached  almost  my  first  sermon  in  his  pulpit,  and  sat  in  his  study  and 
heard  from  him  that  it  was  his  purpose  that  I  should  be  his  colleague  and  his 
staff  in  old  age,  I  came  to  love  him  as  deeply  as  before  I  had  venerated  him. 
I  was  happy  to  put  a  classmate  in  the  place  he  would  have  had  me  fill;  and 
I  saw  them  happy  fellow  labourers, — the  young  Elisha  standing  by,  while  the 
aged  Elijah  prayed  and  waited  for  the  chariot  to  bear  him  away. 

As  Dr.  Ripley  grew  old,  his  nature  grew  mellow.  His  will  and  his  thoughts 
got  into  his  iieart,  and  he  drew  the  young  lovingly  about  him.  He  never 
failed,  as  old  men  often  do;  aflection  kept  liim  young;  he  preached  better 
after  he  was   seventy-five  years   old  than  over  before;  indeed,  when  almost 


EZRA    RIPLEY.  121 

blind,  and  not  long  before  his  depcarture,  so  full  of  years,  he  preached  without 
notes,  and  they  who  listened  said  he  never  preached  so  well.  I  can  readily 
believe  it  —  he  was  almost  home;  the  light  and  love  of  Heaven  filled  his  soul; 
and  that  last  utterance,  at  the  end  of  his  ninety  years'  pilgrimage,  was  his 
saintly  benediction  to  all  of  us  who  follow  him. 

Very  truly  yours, 

G.  W.  HOSMER. 

FROM  EDWARD  JARVIS,  M.  D. 

DoRCiiESTKR,  Mass.,  July  9,  186i. 

Dear  Sir:  I  was  born  in  Concord,  was  brought  up  in  Dr.  Ripley's  congre- 
gation, and  my  father  was  for  many  years  a  Deacon  of  his  Church.  My  recol- 
lections of  him  are  at  once  distinct,  minute  and  agreeable,  so  that  I  have  no 
difliculty  in  complying  with  your  request. 

During  all  my  knowledge  of  Dr.  Ripley  from  my  earliest  childhood  to  1839, 
two  years  before  his  death,  his  personal  appearance  .seemed  to  have  hardly 
changed.  When  I  first  knew  him,  he  was  near  sixty  years  old,  and  then 
he  seemed  to  be  an  old  man.  And  yet  he  bore  none  of  the  marks  of  old  age, 
save  tliat  he  wore  a  gray  wig.  He  was  vigorous,  very  active,  bright  and 
cheerful;  and  so  he  continued  for  many  years  afterwards. 

He  wore  the  same  style  of  dress  from  my  first  to  last  acquaintance.  In- 
deed, he  said,  a  few  years  before  his  death,  that  he  had  never  worn  pantaloons, 
or  straight  coat,  or  short  vest,  or  cravat,  or  narrow-rimmed  hat;  nor  did  he 
afterwaj-ds.  But  he  always  wore  small  clothes,  long  stockings,  knee  buckles, 
a  very  long  round  coat,  the  folds  reaching  to  the  calf  of  the  leg,  a  long 
waistcoat  open  at  bottom  with  bands  over  the  pockets,  white  neck  stock 
buckled  behind,  and  a  wide-rimmed,  low-crowned  hat.  His  dress  gave  him 
great  personal  dignity,  and  though  his  frame  was  short  below  the  average,  yet 
I  never  heard  him  spoken  of  as  a  short  man. 

His  manner  was  highly  dignified,  rather  stately,  but  very  courteous.  These 
qualities  he  always  retained.  And  though  cheerful  and  very  social,  he  ever 
manifested  his  self-respect  and  commanded  the  respect  of  others.  To  some, 
the  timid,  those  who  knew  him  but  little,  this  stateliness  was  forbidding,  and 
they  were  afraid  of  him.  But  to  most  people  he  was  very  approachable  and 
agreeable  —  with  us  and  with  very  many  he  was  perfectly  familiar. 

Though  very  kind,  his  temper  was  naturally  irritable.  I  never  saw  any 
thing  of  this  failing,  nor  did  I  ever  hear  my  father  refer  to  it.  But  it  was 
occasionally  spoken  of, —  more  by  those  who  knew  him  little,  or  none  at  all, 
or  who  liked  to  sneer  at  the  ministers.  Yet  I  have  no  doubt  the  Doctor  did 
suffer  sometimes  from  this  failing;  and  it  required  his  conscientiousness  and 
severe  self-discipline  and  kindness  of  heart  to  keep  it  in  entire  subjection. 

Nevertheless  he  took  such  a  deep  and  constant  interest  in  tlie  affairs  of  his 
people, —  of  every  class, —  he  so  watched  the  ways  and  manners  of  persons  of 
all  ages,  he  watched  with  such  tender  anxiety  over  their  happiness  and  pros- 
perity, that  he  made  himself  very  highly  acceptable,  and  was  universally 
respected  and  loved  by  the  old  and  young.  One  little  boy  was  taken  ill,  and 
his  mother  was  about  to  send  for  the  family  physician,  but  the  little  patient 
begged  her  not  to  send  for  him,  but  for  Dr.  Ripley,  whom  he  liked  and  who 
would  not  hurt  him. 

Dr.  Ripley  was  by  no  means  distinguished  as  a  scholar,  but  his  great  gift 
was  his  knowledge  of  men  and  the  affairs  of  the  world,  his  appreciation  of  its 
interests  and  sympathy  with  its  wants.  He  would  have  been  an  excellent 
man  of  affairs,  and  business  manager  in  any  way  he  might  have  been  trained. 
He  was  very  punctilious  in  all  his  business  arrangements,  exact  in  his  accounts, 
and  methodical  in  all  his  private,  social  and  public  matters. 


122  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Ripley  was  by  no  means  strongly  marked.  Some  of  his 
sernions  wore  e.xpo.sitions  of  Scriptura,  and  some  on  the  duties  of  life;  and 
the  excellcnc}^  of  the  virtues,  the  necessit}'  of  religion,  were  generally  promi- 
nent characteristics.  All  my  father's  family  went  to  meeting  both  forenoon 
and  afternoon.  There  was  no  law  —  we  wei'e  never  commanded  to  go  to 
church  ;  but  we  all  went  as  a  matter  ofcour.se,  as  if  nothing  else  was  desira- 
ble or  possible,  as  we  went  to  our  meals  or  to  our  beds.  We  all  looked  on 
our  own  minister  as  the  only  possible  or  desirable  man  to  till  that  place. 
And  the  idea  or  the  wish  to  have  any  other  no  more  occurred  to  us  than  to 
have  any  other  man  and  woman  for  our  pai'ents.  I  think  this  was  the  general 
feeling  of  the  town,  though  there  were  some  who  thought  the  Doctor  was  dis- 
tant, aristocratic,  unapproachable.  These,  however,  were  the  few  exceptions. 
Of  course  I  except  from  the  first  category  of  the  entirely  contented  those  who 
differed  from  Dr.  Ripley  and  the  parish  generally  in  doctrine.  These  would 
have  been  glad  of  different  preaching;  and  they  accoidingly  had  it  in  the 
school-house,  or  in  some  hall,  and  ultimately  they  foiined  a  new  Society. 
Their  difference  was  in  doctrine,  not  in  personal  respect;  for  they,  ever  after 
their  separation,  continued  to  hold  him  in  the  same  high  regard  as  they  had 
previously. 

Education  was  Dr.  Ripley's  especial  interest,  and  from  the  first  to  almost 
the  last  of  his  life  in  Concord,  he  was  officially  connected  with  the  public 
schools,  and  never  did  he  fail  in  the  discharge  of  this  ti'ust.  Through  very 
many  years  I  was  brought  in  contact  with  him  in  this  way:  in  my  childhood 
and  boyhood  as  a  scholar;  as  a  teacher  of  the  town  school  for  one  year  after 
I  left  College;  and  as  an  associate  on  the  Committee  with  him,  after  I  had 
entered  my  profession,  from  1832  to  1836.  And  in  all  these  periods  I  remem- 
ber nothing  of  his  language  and  manner  but  faithfulness,  kindness  and  firm- 
ness in  duty.  In  the  earlier  or  the  later  periods  there  was  never  an  instance 
of  indifference  or  neglect,  or  of  censoriousness,  or  even  want  of  tenderne.ss. 
He  was  rigid  in  his  ideas  of  duty,  and  exacting  from  the  teachers,  but  no 
more  than  he  was  in  regard  to  himself.  He  gave  a  full  measure  of  his  own 
labour,  and  he  expected  the  same  of  others,  as  toward  the  schools.  This 
expectation  on  the  part  of  the  Committee,  and  their  firmness  in  acceptance  or 
rejection,  brought  a  high  standard  of  teachers  to  the  town.  And  with  such 
the  Doctor  wa.s  kind,  happy  and  very  courteous. 

He  loved  this  duty.  He  was  never  wanting  at  the  public  examination, 
which  he  watched  very  closely;  and  I  well  I'emember  how  much  I  res- 
pected his  presence,  and  yet  how  I  feared  to  recite  before  him  when  I  was  a 
child,  and  how  pleasant  were  his  words  of  approbation  after  the  examination 
was  over.  And  afterwards,  when  I  was  a  teacher,  the  same  attention  and 
the  same  pleasant  commendations  cheered  and  strengthened  me  in  ni}'^  work. 

He  seemed  to  consider  all  the  children  as  objects  of  his  care  and  attention. 
He  recognized  them  in  the  street.  He  followed  them  after  they  left  the 
schools,  and  when  they,  as  many  of  them  did,  went  abroad  and  laboured  in 
other  towns  and  states,  he  still  retained  his  interest  in  their  progress  and  wel- 
fare. He  used  to  speak  with  manifest  pleasure  of  his  extensive  parish;  which 
had  its  representatives  in  almost  every  State  of  the  Union,  and  in  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  towns  of  Massachusetts.  He  made  no  secret  of  his  gratification 
when  they  prospered,  or  of  his  sorrow  when  they  failed  in  fortune,  or  of  his 
mortification  when  they  failed  in  character.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  their  suc- 
cess was  due  in  great  measure  to  the  training  they  had  received  at  home  and 
in  the  schools  of  Concord. 

No  scheme  of  public  improvement  failed  of  securing  Dr.  Ripley's  sympathy. 
The  Temperance  Reform  was  one  of  his  favourites.  This  was  not  a  mere 
theory,  but  it  was  action,  self-denial,  though  he  had  not  much  of  the  spirit 


EZRA   RIPLEY.  123 

of  indulgence  to  deny.  I  never  knew  or  heard,  even  by  tradition,  of  his 
drinking  spirit  or  hardly  wine.  But  I  know  the  preparations  for  the  Com- 
munion were  made,  and  the  plate  and  vessels  kept,  at  my  father's  house, 
being  the  nearest  to  the  church.  One  of  us,  the  boys,  was  always  sent  to 
the  store  Saturday  evening  to  get  the  Malaga  sweet  wine  for  the  celebration; 
and  Monday  morning  we  were  sent  to  the  Doctor's  to  carry  the  remnants  of 
the  bread  and  wine,  which,  I  suppose,  was  used  somehow  in  his  family.  I 
do  not  know,  nor  did  I  ever  hear,  of  his  drinking  even  this;  and  when  the 
Temperance  movement  took  place,  I  think  this  arrangement  was  discontinued. 

The  same  power  of  self-control  and  moral  discipline,  the  command  of  his 
faculties,  desires  and  appetites,  made  him  always  prompt  in  duty,  exact  in 
fulfilment  of  purposes  and  appointments,  and  extremely  methodical  in  his 
habits,  both  in  his  private  matters  and  in  his  relation  to  others.  Whatever 
he  undertook  to  do,  he  did  in  due  time  and  way. 

Tlie  front  door  of  his  house,  where  he  lived  through  all  the  sixty-three 
years  of  his  life  in  Concord,  opened  into  an  entry  that  led  through  the  build- 
ing. In  the  fiont  on  the  right  was  his  study,  and  on  the  left  the  parlour. 
Back  of  the  study  was  the  sitting  and  dining  room,  and  opposite  this  was  the 
kitchen.  As  far  back  as  I  can  remember,  in  these  rooms  and  passage-ways 
the  same  furniture, — chairs,  tables,  &c.,  stood  in  the  same  order.  Once,  when 
I  was  going  into  the  house  with  him,  he  took  off  his  low-crowned  and  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  and  hung  it  on  a  large  nail  at  the  left  side  of  the  study-door. 
"  There,  Mr.  Jarvis,"  said  he,  "  I  have  hung  my  hat  for  forty  years  on  that 
nail  and  on  no  other  in  this  house."  I  then  examined  the  nail,  and  found  it 
large,  well  and  firmly  driven  into  the  casing,  and  worn  somewhat  brightly 
on  the  upper  side. 

All  his  ministerial  relations,  all  his  social- relations,  his  business  and  pecu- 
niary offices  were  managed  in  the  same  way.  He  always  had  a  small  salary, 
but,  as  he  was  a  very  careful  economist,  and  an  excellent  administrator,  he 
was  enabled  to  gratify  his  inclination  to  be  very  generous.  lie,  in  the  earlier 
or  middle  parts  of  his  ministry,  took  some  boarders;  he  and  his  daughters 
taught  some  private  scholars,  and  thus  money  was  raised  to  send  his  two 
sons  to  Harvard  College.  According  to  the  earlier  custom,  much  was  given  to 
him  by  the  farmers  and  others  to  eke  out  his  salary.  Thus  he  lived  comfort- 
ably, and  within  the  means  granted  to  him  or  rather  earned  by  him,  and  I 
never  knew  of  his  being  embarrassed  in  his  pecuniary  matters.  He  owned  his 
house,  and  several  acres  of  very  valuable  land,  which  he  cultivated  with  the 
ordinarj'  skill  and  success. 

Allow  me  to  state  that  there  are  some  interesting  reminiscences  of  Dr.  Rip- 
ley in  connection  with  the  battle  of  Concord.  It  is  a  matter  of  history  that 
on  the  I9th  of  April,  1775,  tlie  first  battle  of  the  Revolutionary  War  was 
fought  in  Concord  and  Lexington.  The  river  which  the  British  soldiers 
attempted  to  cross,  was  at  the  foot  of  Dr.  Ripley's  garden  and  along  the  land 
that  belonged  to  him.  The  bridge  where  these  soldiers  were  turned  back  was 
about  thirty  rods  from  his  house;  and  the  first  British  soldiers  killed  in  that 
■war  lie  buried  on  this  land,  at  the  place  where  the  bridge  formerly  joined  the 
land,  in  sight  of  the  Doctor's  windows.  From  the  period  of  the  Revolution, 
for  fifty  years  and  more,  there  was  a  controversy  between  the  towns  of  Con- 
cord and  Lexington  for  the  honour  of  making  the  first  forcible  resistance  to 
this  foreign  aggression.  Dr.  Ripley,  true  to  his  town,  to  the  traditions  of  the 
place  and  the  opinions  of  his  people,  wrote  a  pamphlet  of  sixty  pages  which 
was  printed  in  1827,  to  show  that,  though  the  British  fired  first  in  Lexington, 
the  Americans  fired  first  in  Concord.  And  therefore  to  the  people  of  that 
town,  and  to  others  assembled  there  on  the  morning  of  that  day,  this  honour 
should  be  given. 


124  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  1836,  the  town,  with  the  aid  of  the  State  and  of  subscriptions,  built  a 
monument  to  commemorate  this  battle.  Dr.  Ripley  gave  the  land,  and  a 
broad  avenue  leading  from  the  highway  to  it,  through  his  grounds,  and  took  an 
intense  interest  in  tiie  structure,  which  is  nigh  to  his  dwelling.  The  building 
committee  invited  such  as  were  able  and  willing,  to  propose  inscriptions,  out  of 
which  they  would  select  one  to  be  put  on  the  monument.  Many  were  sent  to 
them,  some  very  elaborate,  some  brief,  and  some  beautiful.  The  committee 
selected  one  on  account  of  its  brevity  and  sententiousness,  and  adopted  it 
entire  with  the  exception  of  a  single  word,  on  which  hinged  the  whole  con- 
troversy between  Concord  and  Lexington.  The  sentence  was,  "Here  was 
made  the  first  effectual  resistance."  But  the  committee,  full  in  the  faith  that 
the  first  resistance  by  arms  was  made  in  Concord,  changed  the  woid  effectual 
to  forcible,  which  expressed  their  ruling  idea  in  this  matter.  In  vain  it  was 
urged  upon  them  that  the  firing  by  the  Americans  on  the  British  soldiers  at 
Lexington  was  yet  a  mooted  question;  and  even  if  it  were  not  so,  it  was  no 
concession  of  honour  to  admit  that  the  people  of  that  town  did  thus  attempt 
to  resist  the  progress  of  tlie  invaders  a  few  hours  before  they  were  resisted  in 
Concord;  for  the  resistance  at  Lexington  was  unsuccessful,  and  the  British 
troops  continued  on  in  their  intended  course  Westward,  and  reached  Concord, 
and  there  the  resistance  was  effectual.  The  troops  were  stopped  at  the  Con- 
cord bridge  and  turned  back.  This  was  the  first  time  that  the  Britons  were 
effectually  resisted  in  their  war  upon  American  liberties.  But  notwithstand- 
ing this  argument,  the  Committee  and  all  who  vievved  the  matter  as  Dr.  Ripley 
did,  adhered  to  their  first  opinion  that  the  Concord  people  made  the  first  for- 
cible resistance,  and  this  should  be  put  on  perpetual  record  and  told  to  all 
future  generations.  They  then  cared  more  for  the  doubtful  honour  of  having 
fired  the  first  gun  than  for  the  certain  and  greater  honour  of  first  turning  the 
tide  of  war. 

This  monument  and  ground,  so  near  to  the  Doctor's  Avindows,  were,  through 
the  rest  of  his  life,  objects  of  affectionate  interest,  and  he  seemed  to  care 
more  for  them  than  for  his  own  estate. 

Dr.  Ripley  had  great  confidence  in  the  progress  of  society.  He  used  to  talk 
with  much  satisfaction  on  this  subject.  He  thought  each  generation  improved 
upon  their  fathers.  He  said  there  was  much  more  religion  of  heart  and  life, 
though  perhaps  less  of  the  language  of  religion,  in  his  later  than  in  his  earlier 
years.  He  often  said  he  loved  to  associate  with  young  men  and  women, 
because  they  were  so  much  better  than  the  contemporaries  of  his  youth. 
Consequently  he  drew  many  young  people  about  him.  He  entered  into  their 
feelings,  and  they  entered  into  his  plans,  and  thus  they  cordially  and  pleas- 
antly co-operated.  Even  to  his  latest  years  his  house  was  a  favourite  place 
for  young  people  of  both  sexes  to  visit. 

He  was  exceedingly  affable  and  courteous.  He  believed  courtesy,  regard  to 
the  feelings  of  others,  to  be  a  duty.  He  was  punctilious,  sometimes  ceremo- 
nious and  even  stately,  when  occasion  required;  but  it  was  all  founded  in  his 
tender  sympathy  and  his  conscientious  regard  to  the  happiness  of  others. 
When  riding  anywhere,  if  he  met  a  Funeral,  he  always  turned  his  horse  to 
the  side  of  the  road,  stopped  and  uncovered  his  head.  He  said  that,  when 
young,  he  was  in  a  funeral  procession,  burying  a  relative  or  friend  who  was 
verj'  dear  to  him,  and  they  met  a  farmer  in  a  waggon  who  paid  this  tender 
respect  to  the  sorrowing  mourners,  and  it  so  affected  his  heart  that  he  had 
done  the  same  ever  thereafter. 

Not  only  was  he  affable  and  courteous  but  very  intelligent,  with  great 
knowledge  of  the  world,  sufficiently  learned,  and  provided  with  a  rich  fund  of 
anecdote,  and  possessed  of  a  great  How  of  conversation.  He  was,  therefore,  a 
very  pleasant  as  well  as  a  very  instructive  companion. 


JOSEPH   MOTTEY.  125 

The  same  qualities  for  which  Dr.  Ripley  had  been  distinguished  during  his 
life  continued  with  him  till  life's  close.  Especially  his  indomitable  energy, 
and  perseverance,  and  spiiit  of  self-sacriflce  for  the  benefit  of  his  fellow  crea- 
tures, never  forsook  him.  lie  was  eminently  honoured  in  his  life  and  his 
death  was  deeply  and  widely  lamented. 

I  am,  Dear  Sir,  very  faithfully  yours, 

EDWARD  JARVIS. 


JOSEPH  MOTTEY.* 

1779—1821. 

Joseph  Mottey,  a  son  of  Joseph  and  Hannah  (Tngals)  Mottey,  was 
boru  in  Salem,  Mass.,  May  1-1,  175G.  Ills  father  was  a  native  of  the  Isle 
of  Jersey,  and  of  French  extraction,  but  migrated  to  this  country  at  an 
early  period  of  life.  During  the  War  of  the  llevolution,  he  removed  from 
Salem  to  Chelmsford,  wliere  he  died  in  June,  1777,  aged  flfty-two  years. 
He  was  a  shipmaster  and  owner,  and  his  son  Joseph,  at  about  the  age  of 
fifteen,  twice  sailed  with  him  to  the  West  Indies.  The  father  was  a  man 
of  an  exemplary  moral  character,  and  his  mother,  a  native  of  Salem,  was 
a  devout  Christian  ;  and  both  of  them  endeavoured,  by  precept  and  exam- 
ple, to  guide  their  son  into  the  ways  of  virtue.  He  was,  however,  left  an 
orphan,  while  he  was  quite  young — his  mother  dying  sometime  before  he 
entered  College,  and  his  father,  while  he  was  an  under-graduate.  He  was 
fitted  ftr  College  at  Dummer  Academy,  Byfield,  and,  at  the  age  of  about 
eighteen,  entered  Dartmouth  College,  where  he  graduated  in  August,  1778. 
Both  at  the  Academy  and  at  College,  he  sustained  a  high  reputation  for 
talents,  industry  and  propriety  of  conduct. 

Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he  was  employed  in  Phillips' Academy, 
Andover,  then  recently  opened,  and  was  the  first  Assistant  of  its  first  Pre- 
ceptor, the  Rev.  Eliphalet  Pearson.  He  was  afterwards  employed,  either 
as  Assistant  or  Principal,  in  Dummer  Academy.  The  exact  time  when  he 
began  to  preach  cannot  now  be  ascertained  ;  though  it  is  believed  to  have 
been  soon  after  he  left  College.  He  preached  as  a  candidate  in  Marble- 
head,  Linebrook  parish  in  Rowley,  and  Newbury  ;  and,  from  the  two  last 
named  places,  received  invitations  to  settle,  which  he  declined.  He  sup- 
plied the  pulpit  atLynnfield  for  three  years  ;  meanwhile  declining  all  over- 
tures of  the  people  towards  a  permanent  settlement;  but  he  finally  yielded 
to  their  wishes,  and  was  ordained  on  the  24th  of  September,  1783.  Here, 
within  the  limits  of  a  small  parish,  and  in  circumstances  of  great  seclu- 
sion, he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  days. 

On  Sunday,  July  1,  1821,  he  preached  both  parts  of  the  day  with  his 
usual  interest,  and,  at  the  close  of "  the  morning  service,  administered  the 
ordinance  of  the  Supper.  After  the  public  exercises  of  the  day,  he  con- 
versed with  his  family,  as  he  frequently  did,  upon  the  subjects  on  which 
he  had  been  discoursing.      "  I  have  been  labouring,"  said  he,  among  other 

•  Sketch  of  his  life  hj  Rev.  David  Damon. —Mas.  from  Rev.  A.  Gannett  and  Mrs.  Bancroft. 


126  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

tilings,  "to  persuade  those  who  heard  nie,  to  love  God.  I  love  Him — I 
do  not  fear  Him," — meaning,  by  the  last  expression,  that  he  did  not 
fear  to  place  himself  and  all  which  belonged  to  him,  at  the  Divine  dis- 
posal. During  the  early  part  of  the  week,  he  continued  in  his  usual 
health,  and  was  occupied  with  his  parochial  duties.  On  Thursday  morning, 
he  was  somewhat  unwell,  though  there  was  nothing  to  indicate  serious  ill- 
ness; but  he  observed  to  a  friend  who  called  to  see  him  that,  if  it  were 
the  will  of  God,  he  could  wish  that  this  might  prove  to  be  his  last  illness. 
On  Saturday  evening  it  became  apparent  that  his  disease  was  taking  on  an 
alarming  form,  and  he  consented  that  a  physician  should  be  called.  Soon 
after,  he  experienced  such  prostration  and  distress  that  he  was  able  to  speak 
only  with  the  greatest  difficulty.  He  gave  a  few  directions,  which  evi- 
dently implied  a  full  conviction  that  the  hour  of  his  departure  had  nearly 
come,  and  then  remained  in  perfect  calmness  until  death  had  done  its  work. 
He  died  on  Monday,  the  9th  of  July,  after  an  illness  of  five  days. 

Mr.  Mottey  was  married  to  Eliza  Moody,  of  York,  Me.,  at  Byfield, 
Mass.,  April  12,  1780.  They  had  five  children, — three  sons  and  two 
daughters.  Mrs.  Mottey  died  on  the  27th  of  August,  1789,  at  the  age  of 
thirty-two.  Mr.  M.  never  formed  a  second  matrimonial  connection,  but 
lived  a  widower  thirty-two  years.  Mrs.  Henry  Bancroft,  of  Lynnfield,  is 
the  only  one  of  his  children  who  now  survives. 

Mr.  Mottey  published  a  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Roby 
at  Lynn,  1803,  and  an  Address  delivered  at  the  Close  of  the  War  between 
England  and  the  United  States,  1815. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ALLEN  GANNETT. 

Lynnfield,  Mass.,  June  17,  1862. 

Dear  Sir:  No  one  now  remembers  the  early  part  of  Mr.  Mottey's  ministry, 
but  numbers  are  still  living,  whose  recollections  of  him,  as  he  was  in  later 
years,  are  distinct  and  vivid.  I  have  endeavoured  to  gain  from  them  the  most 
exact  impression  of  him  that  I  could.  Of  course,  it  is  not  just  what  it  would 
be,  had  I  known  him,  or  even  seen  him  only  for  an  hour;  but  the  facts  that 
will  be  stated  you  may  rely  upon  as  correct.  One  daughter,  who  was  always 
with  him  till  his  death,  has  spoken  to  me  freely  of  him. 

Mr.  Mottey  was  of  medium  size,  erect  figure,  quick  movements,  and  com- 
manding presence.  His  complexion  was  light,  his  features  regular,  and  his  face 
altogether  might  be  said  to  be  handsome.  His  hair,  which  hung  in  ringlets 
about  his  shoulders,  had  fallen  off  considerably  some  years  before  his  death. 
He  wore  small  clothes  till  the  last,  and  was  very  neat  in  personal  appearance 
and  in  all  his  habits.  In  that  respect  he  would  have  satisfied  even  the  author 
of  '<  Recreations  of  a  Country  Parson."  An  anecdote  or  two  will  illustrate 
and  justify  what  has  now  been  said.  One  extremely  cold  winter's  night,  after 
going  to  bed,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  should  certainly  die  before 
morning.  While  reflecting  upon  it,  and  on  being  found  dead  in  his  bed,  he 
bethought  him  that  his  appearance,  as  he  then  was,  would  not  be  just  what 
he  should  like.  So,  getting  up,  he  put  on  clean  linen,  and  jumped  into  bed 
again.  Very  soon  he  fell  asleep,  slept  soundly  till  morning,  and,  on  awaking, 
was  quite  astonished  to  find  that  he  Avas  not  dead.  On  the  day  of  his  Funeral, 
many  went  to  see  his  garden,  which  he  always  took  care  of  himself;  and  it 
was  a  common  remark  that  there  was  not  a  weed  to  be  found  in  it. 

His  integrity  and  exactness  in  all  his  dealings  were  proverbial.     If,  at  any 


JOSEPH    MOTTET.  127 

time,  he  could  not  make  change,  for  lack  of  half  a  cent,  he  was  sure  to  remem- 
ber and  pay  it  afterwards. 

In  temperament  Mr.  Mottey  was  nervous  and  sensitive.  Naturally,  also, 
he  was  very  modest  and  diffident.  He  rarely  appeared  in  any  pulpit  other 
than  his  own.  Though  only  nine  miles  from  Salem,  his  native  place,  he  could 
not  be  persuaded  to  preach  there.  He  used  to  say  that  he  would  rather  preach 
three  Sabbaths  at  home  than  one  away.  Even  at  home,  it  seems  to  have  beep 
sometimes  a  trial  to  him.  His  daughter  has  told  me  that  he,  many  times, 
said  to  the  family,  of  a  Sabbath  morning,  that  he  should  not  live  througli  the 
day.  After  the  labours  of  the  day  were  over,  he  would  tell  them  tliat  he  felt 
very  well,  though  he  really  thought  in  the  morning  he  should  not  live  till 
night.  Yet  he  seems  never  to  have  been  troubled  with  religious  despondency 
or  gloom. 

Uis  sensibilities  were  delicate  and  refined.  No  one  could  remember  that  he 
ever  kept  a  horse;  but  when  I  inquired  of  his  daughter,  she  told  me  that  he 
used  to  say  he  would  not  take  a  wife  from  her  father's  house  to  deny  her  any 
comforts  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed.  So,  after  his  marriage,  he  kept 
a  horse  and  chaise  till  the  death  of  his  wife,  who  died  young.  He  used  to  tell 
his  daughter,  who  was  born  the  day  of  her  mother's  death,  that  the  chaise 
■was  sold  to  paj--  for  her  nursing.     The  horse  died,  and  he  never  had  another. 

Mr.  Mottey  was  genial,  affable,  and  very  fond  of  social  converse,  though 
rarely  going  beyond  the  bounds  of  his  own  parish.  He  was  also  quick  of  per- 
ception, and  could  readily  adapt  himself  to  all  sorts  of  people.  He  would 
inquire  about  their  business,  trade  or  profession,  in  a  way  to  awaken  interest 
and  gain  information.  He  was  much  interested  in  young  students,  and  was 
very  fond  of  theological  discussions  with  men  of  his  profession. 

His  peculiarities  were  marked  and  striking, — amounting,  perhaps,  to  eccen- 
tricity. A  parishioner  said  to  him  one  day, — "  Mr.  Mottey,  you  are  a  very 
odd  man."  <«  Yes,"  said  he,  <<I  set  out  to  be  a  very  good  man,  and  soon 
■found  that  I  could  not  without  being  very  odd."  His  peculiarities,  however, 
■w-ere  not,  in  any  offensive  sense,  oddities — they  were  perfectly  natural,  and 
he  was  esteemed  none  the  less  on  account  of  them. 

His  habits  of  intercourse  with  his  people  were  free  and  familiar.  He  had 
great  command  of  Scripture  language,  and  was  accustomed  to  blend  it  aptly 
in  his  conversation.  In  that  way,  as  well  as  by  the  expression  of  his  sym- 
pathy, he  interested  them  at  all  times,  and  greatly  comforted  them  in  their 
seasons  of  affliction.  Though  seldom  going  abroad,  he  knew  much  better  than 
manj'  who  were  less  recluse,  what  was  going  on  in  the  world.  He  was  stu- 
dious and  read  much.  His  own  library  was  small;  and  he  used  to  say  that, 
if  his  people  had  paid  him  a  better  salary,  so  that  he  could  have  bought  more 
books,  perhaps  his  religious  opinions  would  not  have  changed.  His  sermons 
■were  well  written,  and  his  preparations  for  the  Sabbath  were  seasonably  made. 
Yet  his  way  was  to  write  when  in  the  mood  for  it.  In  his  observance  of  the 
Sabbath  he  was  always  very  strict.  He  said  he  did  not  wish  to  make  it  a 
distinctly  Jewish  Sabbath,  but  to  keep  it  in  a  proper  manner.  With  him  it 
began  on  Saturday  at  sunset;  and  he  would  allow  of  no  out-door  recreation, 
or  work  in  the  house  that  could  te  put  off  till  after  the  same  time  next  day. 

Some  time  after  his  settlement,  his  religious  opinions  underwent  a  change. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Damon,  who  knew  him  well,  says  it  was  "  at  a  period  when  his 
greatest  afflictions  were  fresh  upon  him."  That  was  in  1789.  In  1803,  he 
published  a  sermon  in  which,  while  discarding  the  view  that  "the  incarna- 
tion, obedience,  and  sufferings  of  Christ  were  necessary  to  persuade  the  Deity 
to  a  placable  disposition  towards  men,"  or,  "to  satisfy  Divine  Justice,"  he 
yet  says,  "his  sufferings  are  necessary  to  vindicate  the  Father's  character, 
and  preserve  the  dignity  of  his  government  in  the  extension   of  mercy  to  sin- 


128  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

ners;"  and  "  the  death  of  Christ  was  necessary  to  render  our  salvation  pos- 
sible." In  the  last  sermon  he  preached,  from  the  text, — "  It  is  I;  be  not 
afraid,"  he  said,  "  The  present  government  of  the  world,  the  Scripture  hath 
taught  us,  God  hath  consigned  to  the  hands  of  Jesus  Christ;"  and  "  He  is 
the  constituted  Sovereign  Judge  of  mankind,"  with  much  more  to  the  same 
purpose.  At  the  same  time,  he  spoke  of  the  great  importance  of  having  right 
views  of  the  character  of  Christ,  and  set  forth  several  theories  that  were  held, 
but  did  not  distinctly  state  his  own.  But,  whatever  he  maj''  have  thought  of 
the  person  and  work  of  Jesus,  he  did  not  believe  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
lie  used  to  say  that  it  was  our  business  to  receive  Him  as  the  Saviour  of  the 
world,  and  not  trouble  ourselves  about  the  metapliysics  of  God.  He  was  par- 
ticularly hostile  to  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  as  he  understood  it,  regarding 
it  as  lying  at  the  foundation  of  what  is  called  the  Orthodox  scheme.  Having 
heard  that  one  of  his  nearest  neighbours  in  the  ministry,  who  was  among  the 
highest  of  the  high  llopkinsians,  had  a  daughter  born  to  liim, —  meeting  him 
one  da}^,  he  asked  what  he  called  her.  "  Angelina,"  was  the  answer. 
"  Angelina!"  said  Mr.  Mottey,  "  I  should  think  that,  with  your  notions,  you 
would  call  her  Beelzebuba." 

Mr.  Damon  speaks  of  Mr.  Mottey's  mind  as  <«  certainly  nearly  approach- 
ing the  highest  order."  Judging  of  it  from  the  few  of  his  sermons  that  I  have 
read,  I  should  say,  unliesitatingly,  that  he  was  possessed  of  superior  abilities. 
His  greatest  admirers  do  not  claim  that  he  was,  in  the  common  acceptation  of 
the  word,  an  eloquent  man.  He  appears  to  have  read  his  sermons,  with  very 
little  action  or  variety  of  tone.  Yet  educated  men  were  attracted  from  neigh- 
bouring parishes  to  hear  him.  In  the  delivery  of  his  sermons,  he  often  showed 
great  sensibility,  and  sometimes  his  emotion  was  so  great  as,  for  the  moment, 
to  obstruct  his  utterance.  He  was  singularly  mild  in  voice  and  manner;  dwelt 
much  on  the  merciful  government  of  God,  and  did  not  meddle  with  contro- 
versy in  the  pulpit.  His  sermons  were  correctly  written,  and  the  train  of 
thought  was  progressive  and  well  sustained;  but  I  think  his  originality  and 
intellectual  force  must  have  been  more  strikingly  exhibited  in  his  conversation 
than  his  sermons.  Some  months  before  his  death,  he  sat  in  an  Ecclesiastical 
Council  at  an  Ordination  service,  with  President  Kirkland,  of  Harvard  Col- 
lege. When  the  festivity  was  over.  Dr.  Kirkland  said, — "  Is  it  possible  that 
there  is  such  a  man  within  twelve  miles  of  Cambridge,  and  yet  I  have  never 
heard  of  him  before.'"  It  has  been  said,  I  believe  with  truth,  that  he  would 
have  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  at  the  next  Commencement,  had 
he  lived  till  then.  With  much  esteem, 

Yours,  affectionately, 

ALLEN  GANNETT. 


JOHN  PRINCE,  LL.  D.* 

1779—1836. 

John  Prince,  a  son  of  John  Prince,  was  born  in  Boston,  July  22,  1751. 
His  parents  were  wortliy,  excellent  people,  and  were  careful  to  train  their 
son  to  knowledge  and  virtue.  His  father,  being  a  mechanic,  designed  that 
the  son  should  be  one  also  ;  and,  accordingly,  he  was  bound  out  as  an  appren- 
tice to  a  pewterer  and  tinman,  and  continued  to  labour  industriously  in 
this  employment,  until  his  indentures  had  expired. 

•Fun.  Serm.  by  Rev.  C.  W.  Upham.— Salem  Beg.  1836.— Ms.  from  Hon.  D.  A.  "White. 


JOHN    PRINCE.  129 

But  his  lieurt,  during  all  tliis  time,  Lad  been  in  his  books  rather  than 
in  his  trade.  He  seemed  to  have  no  interest  in  the  usual  sports  of  boy- 
hood ;  and  his  hours  of  leisure,  during  his  apprenticeship,  were  sacredly 
devoted  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  As  soon  as  he  was  at  liberty,  he 
commenced  a  course  of  study  preparatory  to  entering  College  ;  and,  in  a 
very  short  time,  was  ready  to  be  admitted.  He  entered  Harvard  College 
in  1772,  and,  about  the  same  time,  was  admitted  to  the  communion  of  the 
churcli,  then  unaer  the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Andrew  Eliot,  of 
Boston.  After  leaving  College,  in  1776,  he  was  engaged  for  some  time  in 
teaching  a  school.  He  pursued  his  theological  studies  under  the  direction 
of  (he  llev.  Samuel  Williams,  of  Bradford,  Mass.,  afterwards  a  Professor 
in  Harvard  University. 

At  (he  death  of  Dr.  Andrew  Eliot,  in  1779,  Mr.  Prince,  having  just 
completed  his  preparation  for  the  ministry,  was  invited  to  officiate  as  a 
candidate  for  the  then  vacant  pulpit ;  but,  as  many  in  the  congregation 
were  desirous  that  Dr.  Eliot  should  be  succeeded  by  his  son,  wlio  also  was 
then  just  entering  the  ministry,  Mr.  Prince  magnanimously  declined  even 
the  api)earauce  of  competition  with  him;  and  refused  to  be  considered  as  a 
candidate.  Shortly  after,  he  received  an  invitation  to  preach  wi(h  refer- 
ence to  settlement,  to  the  First  Church  in  Salem  ;  and,  in  due  time,  a 
call  from  that  church  was  made  out  for  him  ;  and,  having  accepted  it,  he 
was  regularly  constituted  its  Pastor,  on  the  10th  of  November,  1779, — 
the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  his  theological  instructor,. 
the  llev.  Samuel  Williams. 

Mr.  Prince's  passion  for  acquiring  knowledge  early  took  a  direction* 
towards  Natural  Philosophy.  In  November,  1783,  just  four  years  from- 
the  time  of  his  ordination,  when  he  was  thirty-two  years  of  age,  he  com- 
municated to  (he  scientific  world  an  improved  construction  of  the  air-pump.. 
His  letter  to  President  Willard  of  Harvard  College,  giving  an  account  of 
it,  is  preserved  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  American  Aca- 
demy. This  invention  gave  him  a  place  among  the  first  philosophers  and 
mechanicians  of  his  day.  In  this  favourite  field  he  continued  to  labour 
more  or  less  till  the  close  of  his  life. 

In  1795,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  from. 
Brown  University. 

Dr.  Prince  continued  the  sole  Pastor  of  the  church  until  December  8, 
1824,  when  the  Rev.  Charles  W.  Upham  was  set  apart  as  his  colleague- 
He,  however,  subsequently  shared  the  services  of  the  Sabbath,  until  the 
infirmities  of  age,  and  the  inroads  of  disease,  obliged  him  partially,  and  at 
length  entirely,  to  withdraw.  He  preached  his  last  sermon  on  the  17th  of 
April,  1836, — less  than  seven  weeks  previous  to  his  death.  On  the  4th. 
of  June,  he  bequeathed  nearly  four  hundred  and  fifty  volumes,  of  great, 
value,  as  a  theological  library  for  the  perpetual  use  of  the  ministers  of  the- 
church  with  which  he  had  been  so  long  connected.  He  dictated  to  his  col- 
league the  following  words,  which  were  written,  by  his  direction,  on  the 
catalogue  of  the  books,  over  his  signature  : — "  Sensible  of  the  kindness  of 
my  people,  through  my  long  ministry  and  life,  I  bequeath  these  books  as  a^ 
lasting  memorial  of  my  afi"ectionate  gratitude."     He  died  on  the  7th  of 

Vol.  VIII.  9 


130  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

June,  1836,  aged   nearly  eighty-five   years.      His   Funeral  Sermon  was 
preached  by  his  colleague,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Upham,  and  was  published. 

Dr.  Prince  was  married,  in  March.  1780,  to  Mary  Bailey,  of  Boston, 
Dy  whom  he  had  four  children,  all  of  them  sons.  She  died  December  4, 
1806,  aged  fifty-two.  On  the  27th  of  November,  1816,  he  was  married  to 
Mrs.  Mille  Waldo,  widow  of  Dr.  Jonathan  Waldo,  of  Salem.  She  was 
originally  from  Wrentham,  and  her  maiden  name  was  Messenger.  Dr. 
Prince's  eldest  son  (^John)  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1800, 
became  a  lawyer,  and  also  clerk  of  the  judicial  courts  in  the  County  of 
Essex. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Prince's  publications  ; — 
A  Discourse  delivered  at  Salem  on  the  day  of  the  National  Fast,  ap- 
pointed by  President  Adams,  on  account  of  the  Difficulties  existing  between 
the  United  States  and  France,  1798.  A  Discourse  upon  the  Close  of  the 
Year,  recommending  the  Improvement  of  Time,  1799.  A  Discourse  deliv- 
ered before  the  Salem  Female  Charitable  Society,  1806.  A  Discourse 
occasioned  by  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Barnard,  D.  D.,  1814.  A 
Charge  to  John  Emery  Abbot,  at  his  Ordination  in  Salem,  1815.  A 
Discourse  delivered  in  Salem  before  the  Bible  Society  of  Salem  and  its 
Vicinity,  1816.  A  Charge  to  Richard  Manning  Hodges,  at  his  Ordina- 
tion in  Bridgewater,  1824.  Description  of  a  new  stand  for  a  Reflecting 
Telescope. 

FROM  THE  HON.   JOSEPH  E.  SPRAGUE. 

Salem,  September  29.  1851. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  opportunities  for  knowing  the  late  Dr.  Prince  were 
probably  not  exceeded  by  those  of  any  person  now  living.  He  was  the  class- 
mate in  College  of  my  father,  Dr.  William  Stearns,  and  they  were  always 
■intimate  friends.  Both  my  father  and  my  graudf^ither,  Joseph  Sprague,  whose 
name  I  took,  belonged  to  his  Society,  and  I  was  myself  a  member  of  his 
church  about  twenty-five  years.  My  first  recollection  of  him  is  his  offer- 
ing a  praj^er  at  my  sister's  funeral,  when  I  was  five  j-^ears  old.  As  a  child,  a 
youth,  and  a  man,  T  knew  him  well,  and  such  was  the  estimation  in  which  I 
held  him,  that  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  communicate  to  you  my  impressions 
concerning  his  character. 

In  person  Dr.  Prince  was  large  and  well  formed,  and  had  a  face  expressive 
of  a  thoughtful  and  earnest  mind,  and  a  kindl3^and  generous  spirit.  His  man- 
ners were  simple  and  agreeable,  but  yet  dignified  and  commanding.  His  mind 
was  uncommonly  inquisitive;  and  no  field  of  knowledge  could  be  open  to  him, 
which  he  was  not  intent  upon  exploring.  His  memory  seemed  like  an  inex- 
"haustible  treasury — everything  that  he  had  read  and  heard  was  deposited 
there,  and  his  knowledge  was  so  systematized  as  alwaj^s  to  be  at  command.  He 
'had  fine  powers  of  conversation;  and,  as  his  life  had  been  an  eventful  one,  he 
could  make  himself  most  agreeable  and  entertaining  to  any  company,  gather- 
ing his  materials  altogether  from  within  the  circle  of  his  own  experience  and 
observation.  He  was  full  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  and  his  house 
was  a  perfect  museum  of  curiosities. 

With  high  intellectual  qualities  he  combined  great  manliness  of  spirit,  pru- 
dence and  generosity.  He  seemed  always  inclined  to  look  on  the  bright 
eidc  of  men's  characters;  and  even  where  he  knew  there  were  great  defects,  he 
was  disposed  to  pass  them  over  in  silence.  I  do  not  suppose  that  a  case  ever 
occurred,  during  his  whole  ministry,  in  which  he  was  even  suspected  of  hav- 


JOHN   PRINCE.  131 

ing  done  anything  needlessly  to  injure  the  reputation,  or  wound  the  feelings, 
of  a  single  individual  in  the  community.  He  had  a  quick  sense  both  of  jus- 
tice and  of  honour,  that  was  apparent  in  all  his  conduct. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Prince  could  not,  certainly  within  my  day,  have  been 
considered  popular.  Though  his  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was  always  venera- 
ble, and  his  tones  of  voice  melodious  and  impressive,  he  greatly  lacked  anima- 
tion, and  often  failed  to  interest  you  from  the  fact  that  he  seemed  so  little 
interested  himself.  In  his  theological  views  I  have  always  understood  that 
he  was  an  Arminian  and  an  Arian;  but  I  do  not  think  that  he  ever  preached 
distinctively  upon  anj'  of  the  points  of  controversy  which,  in  his  day,  agitated 
the  New  England  churches.  Ills  sermons  were  always  marked  by  good  sense, 
and  were  written  iu  a  style  of  great  simplicity  and  perspicuity.  It  is  due  to 
candour,  however,  to  say  that  they  were  less  elaborated  than  some  of  his 
people  could  have  wished;  and  I  think  it  quite  probable  that  if  he  had  not 
been  so  good  a  philosopher,  he  would  have  been  a  better  preacher. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that,  in  the  department  of  Natural  Philoso 
phy,  especially  in  the  framing  of  philosophical  instruments,  Dr.  Prince  has 
had  few,  if  mny,  superiors.  In  this  respect,  he  had  a  European,  as  well  as  an 
American,  reputation.  He  corrresponded  extensively  with  several  distin- 
guished philosophers  in  Great  Britain,  and  his  labours  were  referred  to,  in 
terms  of  the  highest  respect,  in  several  of  their  most  valuable  publications. 
In  an  edition  of  the  Celestial  Globe,  published  in  London,  by  one  of  Dr. 
Prince's  correspondents,  (Mr.  Adams,)  the  constellation  of  the  air  pump  was 
marked  " Prismatica  Princiana;"  which  led  some  one  to  say  that  Dr.  Prince's 
name  was  written  in  Heaven.  The  high  estimate  in  which  his  philosophical 
attainments  were  held,  was  the  means  of  inducing  several  young  persons,  of 
both  sexes,  to  come  from  a  distance  and  board  with  him,  that  they  might 
receive  instruction  from  him  in  Philosophy,  and  especially  Astronomy.  Among 
them,  I  well  remember,  was  Miss  Catherine  G.  Ilickling,  daughter  of  the  United 
States  Consul  at  St.  Michaels;  and,  at  the  same  time,  William  (late  Judge) 
Prescott,  the  son  of  the  hero  of  Bunker  Hill;  and  here  it  was  that  the  pre- 
liminaries were  settled  for  a  matrimonial  connection,  to  which  the  world  is 
indebted  for  one  of  the  greatest  historians  of  modern  times. 

Allow  me,  before  I  close  this  communication,  to  state  some  incidents  in  Dr. 
Prince's  life,  which  I  received  from  his  own  lips,  and  some  of  which  may  serve 
to  show  how  much  he  was  identified  with  some  of  the  most  appalling  scenes  of 
the  Eevolution.  He  mentioned  to  me,  as  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  care  of 
Divine  Providence,  that,  whilst  a  student  in  Divinjty  with  Mr.  Williams,  of 
Bradford,  he  crossed  the  ice  to  Haverhill,  and  staid  till  late  at  night,  when  he 
recrossed  it  in  returning  home;  but,  as  he  rose  the  next  morning,  and  looked 
from  his  window  towards  the  river,  the  ice  had  all  pas-sed  away.  He  had 
more  interesting  anecdotes  of  the  incipient  stages  of  the  Revolution  than  any 
man  I  ever  knew.  At  the  time  of  the  Boston  Massacre,  he  was  in  State  Street, 
and  saw  the  whole;  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  was  a  witness  at  the  trial  of 
Captain  Preston  and  his  soldiers.  He  was  at  Governor  Hutchinson's  house,  at 
North  End,  when  it  was  visited  by  the  mob.  He  was  at  the  Town-meeting, 
preliminary  to  the  destruction  of  the  tea  ships.  He  was  afterwards  at  tlie 
conference  at  Dr.  Church's,  where  the  measures  were  concerted  for  destroying 
the  tea,  and  was  on  board  the  ships  when  it  was  actually  destroyed.  He  was 
the  first  to  carry  the  news  to  General  Warren  that  the  British  troops  had 
left  Boston  for  Lexington.  Before  he  returned,  he  was  standing  at  the  head 
of  ^Iilk  Row  in  Charlestown,  with  two  or  three  other  persons  at  his  side, 
armed  with  muskets.  He  saw  a  person  riding  rapidly  on  horseback,  and,  as 
he  passed  them  his  cloak  blew  open,  and  disclosed  a  British  uniform.  One  or 
more  of  them  levelled  their  pieces  at   the  horseman,  and  were  nearly  in  the 


132  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

act  of  firing,  -when  Mr.  Prince  struck  the  guns  up  with  his  cane,  saying,  as  he 
did  it,  "  Don't  kill  him,"  or  «•  Don't  hurt  him,"  or  <'  Don't  fire."  This 
horseman  was  Colonel  Small  of  the  British  army,  hurrying  into  Boston,  tn 
inform  the  Commander  of  the  straits  into  which  the  troops  at  Lexington  and 
Concord  had  fallen.  But  for  this,  Lord  Percy  would  not  have  gone  out  with 
his  reinforcements,  and  the  British  troops  would  all  have  been  interceiitcd 
and  captured.  Yours  very  faithfully, 

JOSEPH  E.  SPRAGUE. 


AARON  BANCROFT,  D.  D  * 

1779—1839. 

Aaron  Bancroft  was  born  at  Reading,  Mass.,  November  10,  1755. 
His  father,  Samuel  Bancroft,  was  a  liiglily  respectable  citizen,  and  a  Deacon 
of  the  church  to  which  he  belonged.  He  was  a  member  of  the  council  that 
dismissed  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards  from  Northampton,  and,  with  his 
Pastor,  the  Rev.  William  Hobby, t  protested  against  the  decision  of  the 
maiority.  His  mother,  according  to  his  own  iestimony,  was  "  a  pious  and 
affectionate  woman,  who  did  every  thing  for  him  by  her  care,  precept  and 
example,  that  a  tender  mother  in  her  situation  could  do  for  a  child."  That 
his  parents  were  thoroughly  Puritan  in  their  religious  views,  and  that  he 
was  himself  early  incliued  to  dissent  from  them,  is  sufficiently  manifest 
from  the  following  extract  from  one  of  his  private  papers  : — "  The  West- 
minster Assembly's  Shorter  Catechism  was  early  taught  me.  While  young, 
I  was,  by  my  father,  appointed  reader  to  the  family  on  Saturday  evenings, 
and  Willard's  Body  of  Divinity,  a  large  folio,  was  selected  as  my  book. 
The  Catechism  I  never  understood  or  loved  —  my  mind  revolted  against 
Willard.  I  could  not  assent  to  the  popular  creed  ;  and  I  well  remen)ber 
the  throes  of  my  youthful  mind  when  dwelling  upon  religious  subjects." 

His  early  years  were  spent  in  labouring  upon  a  farm  ;  and,  as  his  father 
was  an  extensive  landholder,  and  had  himself  a  preference  for  agricultural 
pursuits,  it  was  rather  his  desire  that  the  son  should  become  a  farmer 
likewise.  He,  however,  yielded  to  his  son's  wish  for  a  liberal  education, 
and  allowed  him  to  avail  himself  of  such  helps  as  his  native  town  afforded, 
partly  at  a  grammar-school,  and  partly  under  the  instruction  of  his  min- 
ister, to  prepare  for  College.  He  entered  at  Harvard,  at  the  age  of  nine- 
teen, in  the  year  1774 ;  and,  though  his  collegiate  course  was  not  a  little 

•  Dr.  Hill'a  Fun.  Serm. — Ms.  from  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Davis. 

I  William  Hobby  was  born  in  Boston,  August  13,  1709:  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College 
in  1725;  was  ordained  at  Heading,  September  5,  1733;  and  died  June  18,  1765.  He  was  dis- 
tinguished as  well  for  his  natural  endowments  as  his  acquirements.  He  preached  with  great 
fluency,  copiousness  and  unction,  and  was  a  staunch  advocate  for  the  doctrines  of  Calvinism. 
He  died  in  the  joyful  assurance  of  entering  upon  a  better  life.  He  left  behind  him  a  Serious 
Address  to  his  People, — which  is  preserved  in  the  fifth  volume  of  the  Massachusetts  Mission- 
ary Magazine, — charging  them  to  choose,  as  his  successor,  a  faithful  preacher  of  the  Gospel. 
jle  published,  The  I'aithful  Minister  the  Glory  of  Christ:  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of 
Daniel  Emerson,  at  Hollis,  N.  H.,  1743;  An  Inquiry  into  the  Itinerancy  and  Conduct  of  the 
liev.  George  Whitefield,  1745;  A  Discourse  entitled  "  Self-examination  in  its  Necessity  and 
Advantages,"  1746;  A  Vindication  of  the  Protest  against  Jonathan  Edwards'  Dismission, 
1751 ;  An  Artillery  Eleotion  Sermon,  1757. 


AARON    BANCROFT.  133 

eniLarrasscd  find  interrupted  by  the  storm  of  the  Revolution,  he  made  the 
best  use  of  the  advantages  afforded  liim,  and  graduated  witli  honour  in  1778. 

On  leaving  College,  he  was  engaged,  for  a  short  time,  in  teaching  the 
public  school  in  Cambridge  ;  but,  after  a  few  months,  he  commenced  tlie 
study  of  Theology,  under  the  minister  of  his  native  parish,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Haven  ;*  concerning  whom  he  wrote,  in  after  life,  that  he  "  was  a  man  of 
fine  intellect,  liberal  in  his  sentiments,  and  a  sound,  if  not  a  learned,  theo- 
logian." His  theological  course  must  have  been  very  brief,  as  he  com- 
menced preaching  in  the  autumn  of  Ihe  year  1779.  Early  in  the  spring  of 
1780,  when  he  had  preached  but  a  few  times,  an  application  was  made  to 
him  to  go  on  a  mission  to  Nova  Scolia  ;  and,  though  many  of  his  friends 
advised  him  strongly  against  it,  he  determined  to  engage  in  tlie  proposed 
mission.  Accordingly,  having  obtained  permission  of  the  Execntive 
Council  of  Massachusetts,  (for  the  Revolutionary  War  was  then  at  its 
height,)  he  went  to  Nova  Scotia,  and  remained  there  three  years,  passing 
his  time  principally  at  Yarmouth,  Annajiolis  Royal,  and  Hoiton.  Tiiough 
he  had  few  advantages  here  for  intellectual  improvement,  he  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  witnessing  the  developments  of  human  nature  under  various,  and 
some  very  peculiar,  circumstances,  and,  on  the  whole,  he  considered  this 
period  as  having  marked  a  very  important  epoch  in  his  life. 

Mr.  Rancroft  returned  to  New  England  in  July,  1783,  and,  immedi- 
ately after  he  reached  home,  received  an  invitation  to  preach,  as  a  candi- 
date in  Worcester,  Jlass.  ;  the  Rev.  Mr.  ^laccarty,  the  Pastor  of  the 
church  there,  being  prevented  by  illness  from  performing  his  accustomed 
duties.  As  the  church  was  generally  Calvinistic,  and  he  ati  Arminian,  and 
an  Allan,  he  was  not  acceptable  as  a  preacher  to  the  majority;  and  yet 
there  were  a  considerable  nnm})er,  and  among  them  some  of  the  most  pro- 
minent members  of  the  congregatidii,  who  were  greatly  pleased  with  his 
ministrations.  When  Mr.  Maccarty,  being  partially  restored  to  health, 
resumed  his  duties,  ]Mr.  Rancroft,  having  completed  his  engagement, 
preached  for  a  short  time  in  several  other  places.  In  the  spring  of  1784, 
he  supjilicd  the  pul|)it  in  Stoughtun,  O'ow  Canton,)  eight  Sabbaths;  and, 
though  they  had  been  accustomed  to  Calvinistic  preaching,  and  jMr.  Ran- 
crofl  held  a  different  system,  and  "  composed  and  delivered  three  sermons, 
liberal  to  the  extent  of"  his  '•  faith,"  the  parisli  gave  him  a  nearly  unani- 
mous call  to  settle  among  them  ;  but  he  returned  a  negative  answer.  In 
the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  he  was  invited  to  preach  as  a  candidate  in 
East  Windsor,  Conn.  ;  but,  though  some  of  the  most  prominent  members 
of  the  congregation  favoured  his  settlement,  a  large  majorit}',  not  sympa- 
thizing with  his  theological  views,  were  found  adverse  to  it. 

The  church  in  Worcester  having  become  vacant,  in  July,  1784,  by  the 
death  of  Mr.  Maccarty,  Mr.  Rancroft  preached  there,  by  request  of  a 
committee  of  the  town,  in  October  following,  and  in  January  of  the  next 

*  Thomas  Haven  was  a  native  Wrentham,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1765;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  tlie  Congregational  Church  in  Reading,  November  7,  •(•H;  and 
died  May  7,  1782,  aged  thirty-nine.  lie  published  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Jacob  Bur- 
nap;  [who  was  a  native  of  Reading;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1770;  was  or- 
dained Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Merrimae,  N.  H.,  October  14,  1772;  and  died  December  26, 
1821,  aged  seventy-three.  He  published  a  Fast  Sermon,  1799;  and  a  Discourse  at  the  Funeral 
of  Joseph  Kidder,  1819.  The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by  Har- 
vard College,  in  1814.] 


134  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

year,  but  the  town  refused  to  settle  him  as  their  minister.  In  consequence 
of  this,  a  Second  Congregational  Church  was  formed,  consisting  of  those 
who  were  friendly  to  Mr.  Bancroft's  peculiar  views,  and  he  accepted  an 
invitation  to  become  their  Pastor.  He  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the 
1st  of  February,  1786, — the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Barnard  of  Salem.      It  was  published. 

Mr.  Bancroft  was  married  to  Lucretia,  daughter  of  the  Hon.  John 
Chandler,  of  Worcester,  in  October,  1786.  She  died  April  27,  1839,  aged 
nearly  seventy-four  years. 

In  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  Mr.  Bancroft  had  many  obstacles  to 
contend  with.  His  doctrinal  belief  was  a  bar  to  ministerial  exchanges  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and  for  several  years  he  preached  nearly  the  whole 
time  to  his  own  people.  His  pecuniary  circumstances  were  also  consider- 
ably straitened  ;  but,  notwithstanding  this,  when  the  Society  voted,  in 
1789,  to  build  a  new  house  for  public  worship,  he  voluntarily  relinquished 
one  third  of  his  salary,  from  a  desire  to  bear  his  full  proportion  of  the 
common  burdens.  Some  years,  in  order  to  make  out  sufficient  means  of 
support  for  his  family,  he  gave  instruction  to  young  men,  and  to  the  daugh- 
ters of  some  of  his  parishioners,  and  received  boarders  into  his  house.  His 
great  moral  courage  and  energy  of  character  carried  him  triumphantly 
through  difficulties,  before  which  a  less  earnest  and  intrepid  spirit  would 
have  quailed. 

In  1807,  Mr.  Bancroft  published  the  Life  of  General  Washington  ; — a 
work  on  which  he  had  bestowed  great  labour,  and  for  which  he  received  high 
and  deserved  praise.  It  was  originally  printed  in  one  volume,  octavo,  but, 
in  1826,  it  was  republished  in  two  volumes,  as  one  of  the  series  of  the  Bed- 
lington  Cabinet  Library. 

In  1810,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

In  1821,  Dr.  Bancroft  preached  a  series  of  Sermons  on  Christian  Doc- 
trines. They  excited  great  interest  among  his  people,  and  were  published, 
by  their  request,  in  an  octavo  volume,  the  next  year.  The  Elder  Presi- 
dent Adams,  in  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  a  copy  of  the  work,  which 
had  been  sent  him  by  the  author,  writes  as  follows,  under  date  of  January 
24,  1823  :— 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter  of  December  30th;  and  above  all  for  the  gift  of  a 
precious  volume.  It  is  a  chain  of  diamonds  set  in  links  of  gold.  I  have  never  read, 
nor  heard  read,  a  volume  of  sermons  better  calculated  and  adapted  to  tlie  age  and 
country  in  wliich  it  was  written.  I  have  conversed  freely  with  most  of  the  sects  in 
America,  and  have  not  been  inattentive  to  the  writings  and  reasonings  of  all  denomi- 
nations of  Christians  and  Philosophers;  but,  after  all,  I  declare  to  you  that  your 
twenty-nine  sermons  have  expressed  the  result  of  all  my  reading,  experience,  and 
reflections,  in  a  manner  more  satisfactory  to  me  than  I  could  have  done  in  the  best 
days  of  my  strength." 

•Dr.  Bancroft  continued  alone  in  his  pastoral  charge  till  I\Iarch,  1827, 
when  he  was  relieved  by  the  accession  of  a  colleague,  the  Rev.  (now  Dr.) 
Alonzo  Hill.  Subsequent  to  this,  however,  he  was  active  in  the  duties 
of  his  profession,  preaching  or  performing  more  or  less  of  private  pastoral 
service,  as  occasion  might  require.  On  the  31st  of  January,  1836,  he 
delivered  a  Discourse,  on  the   termination  of  fifty  years  of  his  ministry, 


AARON    BANCROFT.  135 

which  was  afterwards  printed,  by  request  of  the  Society,  with  valuable  his- 
torical notes.      In  this  Sermon  he  says, — 

"  If  tlie  question  of  improvement  has  respect  to  tlie  members  of  the  Society,  who 
are  the  individuals  to  whom  I  can  appeal?  They  who  with  me  began  their  course  of 
Christian  imjirovement,  are  removed  from  life;  but  one  man  remains  of  those  who 
invited  me  to  settle  with  them  as  their  minister;  and  but  two  women  now  live,  who, 
at  that  time,  were  heads  of  families.  I  am  the  oldest  man  in  the  parish,  with  one 
exception,  and  his  connection  with  us  was  but  of  yesterda}^  I  have  been  longer  in  a 
married  state  with  one  wife  than  any  other  living  member  of  our  commiinit}'.  I  have 
outlived  my  generation,  and,  in  the  midst  of  society,  may  be  considered  a  solitary 
man." 

Dr.  Bancroft  preached,  for  the  last  time,  in  his  own  pulpit,  on  the  last 
Sabbath  of  January,  1839  ;  and,  two  Sabbaths  later,  he  preached  at  the 
Hospital  iu  Worcester,  which  proved  to  be  the  last  public  service  he  ever 
performed.  His  health  was  now  so  far  impaired  that  he  was  able  only 
occasionally  to  attend  public  worship  on  the  Sabbath  ;  and,  with  the  death 
of  his  wife,  which  occurred  in  the  spring,  he  relinquished  all  hope  of  reco- 
very, and  betook  himself  to  his  chamber  with  the  confidence  tliat  he  was 
soon  to  die.  He  died  on  the  19th  of  the  succeeding  August,  and  his 
Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  his  colleague,  the  Rev.  A.  Hill,  and  pub- 
lished. The  following  account  of  his  last  moments  is  from  the  pen  of  one 
of  his  daughters  : — "After  lying  in  a  sleep  of  some  hours,  he  suddenly 
roused,  and,  calling  us  to  his  bedside,  spoke  of  the  conviction  he  felt  that 
the  time  was  rapidly  approaching  when  he  must  leave  us.  '  I  do  not  pre- 
tend,' said  he,  '  to  look  forward  to  that  solemn  moment  without  emotion. 
We  cannot  bid  adieu  to  the  scenes  and  objects  we  have  loved  on  earth, 
without  pain  ;  and  the  thought  that  we  are  to  appear  before  the  judgment 
seat  of  God,  and  account  for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body,  renders  the  con- 
templation of  that  event  awful  in  the  extreme.  But  I  trust  in  the  mercy 
of  God,  who  has  promised  never  to  forsake  those  who  put  their  trust  in 
Him.  I  have  studied  the  Bible  to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  his  character, 
and  what  He  reveals,  through  Jesus  our  Saviour,  of  the  destiny  of  man,  T 
think  I  may,  without  vanity,  say  I  have  endeavoured  to  make  the  precepts 
of  the  Gospel  the  rule  of  my  life  and  conversation,  and  my  aim  has  been 
to  perform  the  duties  assigned  me,  by  my  Heavenly  Father,  to  the  best  of 
my  ability.  I  have  not  the  presumption  to  claim  the  merit  of  sinless  obe- 
dience ;  but  this  I  do  say,  my  intentions  have  ever  been  to  conform,  as 
far  as  is  in  my  power,  to  the  bright  example  set  before  us  by  our  blessed 
Saviour.  *  *  *  Death  is  the  portal  through  which  all  must 

pass  to  reach  their  home  in  the  Heavens  ;  and  the  Gospel  alone  sheds  light 
on  its  passage.     Happy  are  they  who  shall  sleep  in  Jesus." 

Dr.  Bancroft  was  the  father  of  thirteen  children,  six  only  of  whom  sur- 
vived him.  One  of  his  sons  is  the  Hon.  George  Bancroft,  the  Historian, 
and  one  of  his  daughters  was  married  to  the  late  Hon.  John  Davis,  for- 
merly Governor  of  Massachusetts,  and  a  member  of  the  United  States 
Senate. 

Dr.  Bancroft  received  many  tokens  of  public  favour.  He  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  Leicester  Academy  for  thirty  years,  and 
long  its  President ;  President  of  the  Worcester  County  Bible  Society  ; 
President  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association,  from  its  organization  iui 
1825  to  1836;  President  of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian    Know* 


136  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ledge,  Piety  and  Charity  ;  Vice-President  of  the  Worcester  and  Middlesex 
Missionary  Society,  afterwards  merged  in  the  Evangelical  Missionary  So- 
ciety ;  Vice-President  of  the  American  Antiquarian  Society  from  181G  to 
1832  ;  Fellow  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  and  mem- 
ber of  various  other  Societies. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Bancroft's  publications  : — 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Samuel  Shuttlesworth,  at  Windsor,*  Vt.; 
1790.  A  Sermon  before  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Massachusetts,  at  Worcester, 
1793.  A  Sermon  on  the  Execution  of  Samuel  Frost  for  Murder,  at  Wor- 
cester, 1793.  A  Sermon  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Clark  Brown,  afc 
Brimfield,  1798.  A  Eulogy  on  Washington,  pronounced  at  Worcester, 
1800.  A  Sermon  on  the  Day  of  the  General  Election,  1801.  An  Address 
on  the  Importance  of  Education,  delivered  at  the  Opening  of  a  New  Build- 
ing at  Leicester  Academy,  1806.  Life  of  Washington,.  1807.  A  Sermon 
at  the  Ordination  of  Nathan  Parker,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  1808.  A  Ser- 
mon before  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge,  Piety  and 
Charity,  1810.  A  New  Year's  Sermon,  1811.  A  Sermon  on  the  Nature 
and  Worth  of  Christian  Liberty,  1816.  A  Sermon  on  the  Duties  of  the 
Fourth  Commandment,  1817.  Vindication  of  the  Result  of  an  Ecclesias- 
tical Council  at  Princeton,  1817.  A  Discourse  on  Conversion,  1818.  A 
Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Mary  Thomas,  1818.  A  Christmas  Sermon, 
on  the  Doctrine  of  Immortality,  1818.  A  Sermon  at  the  Installation  of 
the  Bev.  Luther  Wilson,  Petersham,  1819.  A  Sermon  on  the  Mediation 
and  Ministry  of  Jesus  Christ,  preached  at  Keene,  N.  II.,  1819.  A  Ser- 
mon on  the  Moral  Purpose  of  Ancient  Sacrifices,  of  the  Mosaic  llitual  and 
of  Christian  Observances,  preached  at  Keene,  N.  H.,  1819.  A  Sermon 
before  the  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers  of  Massachusetts,  1820. 
Sermons  on  the  Doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  and  on  those  Constituent  Princi- 
ples of  the  Church,  which  Christian  Professors  have  made  the  Subject  of 
Controversy,  (an  octavo  volume,)  1822.  An  Examination  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Barstow's  Remarks  on  the  "  Preliminary  History  of  Two  Discourses," 
1822.  A  Sermon  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Andrew  Bigelow,  Med- 
ford,  1823.  A  Sermon  on  the  Duties  of  Parents,  1823.  A  Sermon  before 
the  Auxiliary  Society  for  Meliorating  the  Condition  of  the  Jews,  1824. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Sumner,!  1824.  A 
Sermon  on  the  Death  of  John  Adams,  1826.  A  Sermon  on  the  Sabbath 
following  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Alonzo  Hill,  1827.  A  Sermon  at 
the  Dedication  of  the  New  Unitarian  Meeting  House,  Worcester,  1829. 
Three  Sermons  in  the  Liberal  Preacher;  published  in  1827,  1828  and 
1830, — namely.  Office  of  Reason  in  the  Concerns  of  Religion,  1827  ;  Fe- 

»  Samuel  Shuttlksworth  was  a  native  of  Dedham,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1777;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  AVindsor,  Vt.,  .Juno 
23,  1790;  was  subsequently  dismissed;  and  died  in  October,  1834,  aged  eighty-four  years. 

t  Joseph  Suhneu  was  born  in  Pomfret,  Conn.;  was  graduated  at  Yale  College  in  1759; 
was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Shrewsbury,  Mass.,  in  1762;  and  died 
on  the  9th  of  December,  1824,  aged  eighty-four  years.  The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
was  conferred  upon  him  by  Harvard  College  in  1814.  He  was  an  earnest  patriot  in  the  Revo- 
lution, a  warm  friend  to  learning,  and  for  many  years  a  Trustee  of  the  Leicester  Academy. 
He  published  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  his  son  Samuel  Sumner;  [who  was  graduated 
at  Dartmouth  College  in  17St);  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Southborough,  June  1, 
1791;  resigned  his  charge  December!,  1797;  and  died  in  1837;]  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon, 
1799 ;  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Wilkes  Allen,  1803 ;  and  a  Half-Century  Sermon,  1812. 


AARON    BANCROFT.  137 

male  Duties  and  Trials,  1828  ;  Importance  of  Salvation,  1830.  A  Glance 
at  the  Past  and  Present  State  of  Ecclesiastical  Affairs  in  Massachusetts, 
published  in  tlie  Unitarian  Advocate,  1831.  Family  Prayers  fur  Young 
Householders,  1832.  A  Sermon  on  the  Termination  of  Fifty  Years  of  liis 
Ministry,  1836.  A  Sermon  in  the  Christian  31onitor,  entitled  The  End 
of  the  Commandments.  Moral  Power  of  Christianity,  published  in  the 
first  volume  of  the  Western  Messenger. 

I  was  introduced  to  Dr.  Bancroft  first  in  May,  1811,  by  Alfred  Wright, 
afterwards  a  missionary  among  the  Indians,  who  was,  at  that  time,  teaching 
a  school  in  Worcester,  and  had  one  or  more  of  Dr.  B.'s  sons  among  his 
pupils.  I  was  a  mere  youth,  but  was  much  impressed  by  the  Doctor's 
agreeable  and  urbane  manner,  and  by  one  or  two  little  acts  of  kindness, 
which  he  performed  towards  me,  to  wliich  I  was  in  no  way  entitled.  There 
were  several  persons  present  at  the  interview,  who  did  their  part  in  the 
way  of  talking  ;  but  his  superior  powers  of  conversation  cast  them  all  into 
the  shade.  The  next  time  I  saw  him  was  shortly  after  this,  at  Coventry, 
where  he  was  a  member  of  the  second  council  that  adjudicated  tlie  case  of 
the  llev.  x\biel  Abbot  ;  and,  as  I  happened  to  be  in  the  house  where  the 
council  held  its  sessions,  I  knew  him  to  be  a  very  active  and  influential 
member,  though  I  do  not  recollect  that  he  performed  any  other  service  ia 
public  than  porhaps  to  offer  a  prayer.  In  later  years,  and  after  I  entered 
the  ministry,  I  saw  hin)  several  times  at  his  own  house,  and  elsewhere,  and 
always  found  him  frank,  cordial,  and  liighly  intelligent  upoij  every  subject 
we  conversed  upon.  Once,  I  remember,  our  conversation  turned  upon  the 
first  President  Adams,  with  whom  he  had  long  been  in  intimate  relations. 
He  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  President's  character  ;  and  the  President 
had  expressed  his  strong  approval  of  a  volume  of  his  sermons,  which  had 
then  lately  been  published.  The  only  sermon  I  ever  heard  him  preach 
was  his  Convention  Sermon,  delivered  before  the  Congregational  Clergy 
of  Massachusetts,  not  long  after  the  year  1820.  It  was  on  the  text, — "  I 
am  set  fur  the  defence  of  the  Gospel."  The  Discourse  was  marked  by 
ability,  and  delivered  without  mucli  apparent  emotion  ;  and,  though  it  was 
not  such  a  discourse  as  would  have  been  most  acceptable  to  the  orthodox 
portion  of  his  congregation,  it  had  little  or  nothing  of  a  controversial  bear- 
ing, and  contained  much  that  found  favour  with  all. 

FROM  THE  HON.  LEVI  LINCOLN,   LL.  D., 

GOVERNOR    OF    MASSACHUSETTS,  UNITED    STATES    SENATOR,   &C. 

Worcester,  May  17,  1851. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  My  deep  reverence  for  the  personal,  social  and  profes- 
sional cliaracter  of  Doctor  Bancroft  would  demand  a  higher  tribute  of  remem- 
brance than  any  expressions  of  respect,  in  my  poor  ability,  could  render;  nev- 
ertheless I  do  not  feel  Avilling  altogether  to  decline  the  request  with  which  you 
have  honoured  nie.  I  may  say  then,  in  answer  to  your  inquiries,  that  he  was 
of  small  stature,  of  spare  and  slight  habit,  but  of  elastic  and  firm  step — his 
manners  and  personal  address  courteous  and  affable,  his  conversation  earnest 
and  impressive,  and  his  general  appearance  and  bearing  that  of  the  accom- 
plished gentleman  of  the  old  school.  The  prominent  traits  of  his  intellectual 
and  moral  character  were,  I  think,  careful  observation,  deep  reflection,  and 
great  decision.     He  had  the  clearest  perception  of  the  character  of  others,  and, 


138  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

indeed,  was  rarely  deceived  in  a  first  estimate  of  their  worth.  His  own  stand- 
ard of  merit  was  of  the  highest  order,  and  he  made  no  compromises  with, 
and  had  no  apologies  for,  seltishness,  or  meanness,  or  vice.  As  a  scholar,  he 
had  rich  and  varied  attainments,  and  was  a  ready  and  vigorous  writer.  In 
connection  with  hie  pastoral  duties,  he  devoted  mucli  time  and  attention  to 
the  cause  of  general  education,  and,  during  his  long  ministry,  and,  I  believe, 
to  the  very  end,  was  associated  with  the  management  of  the  public  schools  of 
the  town,  and  one  of  the  most  persevering  and  efficient  advocates  of  their  con- 
stantly progressive  improvement.  And  for  many  years,  he  was  a  Trustee 
and  the  President,  of  the  flourishing  Academy  at  Leicester. 

In  the  pulpit,  the  manner  of  Dr.  Bancroft  was  neither  graceful  nor  impres- 
sive. His  voice  was  not  strong  or  musical;  but  there  was  often,  espe:ially  in 
prayer,  an  earnestness  and  a  fervency  which  gave  it  deep  pathos  and  etfect. 
His  printed  works, — his  Sermons,  and  liis  Life  of  AVashiiigton  particularly, 
will  testify  to  his  fidelity  of  research,  and  his  powers  of  ratiocination  and 
expression.  In  the  social  relations  of  life  no  man  was  more  interesting.  His 
society  was  every  where  souglit  and  gieatl}'  cherished.  He  attracted  the  young, 
instructed  tlie  active  and  the  busy,  sympathized  witli  the  aged  and  tlie  afflic- 
ted, and  was  at  once  the  beloved  and  the  venerated  of  his  parish  and  the 
family  circle. 

Such,  currentc  calamo,  is  mj^  impei-fect  remembrance  of  Dr.  Bancroft,  offered 
only  in  apology  for  declining  that  more  studied  and  careful  sketch  which  is 
due  to  his  memory. 

With  sentiments  of  the  highest  regard. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

LEVI  LINCOLN. 

FROM  THE  HON.  GEORGE  BANCROFT. 

Nkw  York,  January  28,  1862, 

My  dear  Sir:  You  ask  "of  me  some  personal  account  of  my  father.  My 
earliest  recollections  of  him  are  of  a  bright  and  cheerful  man;  fulfilling  the 
duties  of  life  with  courage  and  hearty  good-will;  naturally  given  to  hospi- 
tality, and  delighting  in  the  society  of  intelligent  friends,  who  were  attracted 
by  the  ready  sympathy  of  his  nature,  his  lively  and  varied  conversation,  and 
the  quickness  and  clearness  of  his  perceptions.  Ilis  mind  was  calm  and  logi- 
cal, discriminating  and  accurate,  possessing  the  reflective  powers  in  an  emi- 
nent degree.  He  loved  literature  and  its  pursuits;  and  though,  in  his  youth, 
the  opportunities  of  becoming  learned  were  interrupted  by  the  War,  his  natu- 
ral inclinations  and  activity  made  amends  for  the  deficiency ;  so  that  in  general 
culture  he  stood  among  the  foremost  of  his  day,  and,  far  more  than  any  man 
in  his  neighbourhood,  preserved  through  life  the  tastes  of  a  scholar.  Of  a  bil- 
ious temperament  and  a  delicate  ph3^sical  organization,  he  used  to  speak  of 
himself  as  having  been  irascible  in  his  boj^hood;  but  this  tendency  he  brought 
under  subjection,  without  impairing  his  vivacity,  and  he  obtained  and  pre- 
served to  the  last  a  complete  mastery  over  himself. 

It  never  was  his  way  to  make  a  show  of  his  virtues  or  his  emotions. 
With  him  private  devotion  was  strictly  private.  His  affections  were  strong, 
but  not  demonstrative.  One  of  his  sons  was  lost  at  sea;  though  suffering 
most  keenly  from  sorrow,  he  maintained  his  fortitude  as  an  example  to  his 
family;  but  long  after  every  one  else  had  given  up  hope,  he  was  always  seen, 
with  the  arrival  of  the  mail,  walking  in  front  of  the  post-office  until  the  let- 
ters were  distributed;  and  when  day  after  day  brought  none  to  him,  lie  would 
return  to  his  study  with  undisturbed  serenity,  unquestioning  and  unques- 
tioned.    In  all  this  prolonged  period  of  sorrow  and  hope,  he  was  never  found 


AARON    BANCROFT.  139 

in  tears  but  once,  when  his  door  was  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  opened.  His 
love  for  his  wife,  or  rather  their  mutual  affection,  was  singularly  great.  She 
was  remarkable  for  benevolence,  very  uncommon  gifts  of  mind,  and  playful 
cheerfulness.  In  April,  1839,  when  they  had  been  married  more  than  tifty- 
two  years,  she  died  after  a  very  short  illness.  My  fathei',  then  past  eighty- 
three  years  of  age,  attended  lier  to  the  grave  with  no  unusual  display  of  grief; 
but,  after  returning  from  the  Funeral,  he  never  left  his  homestead  again,  and 
died  in  less  than  four  months. 

Throughout  all  his  life,  my  father's  means  were  limited,  and  during  a  large 
part  of  it,  were  very  scanty;  but  he  was  never  embarrassed,  for  he  had  made 
it  a  iixed  rule  not  to  incur  debt.  Small  as  was  his  income,  he  took  it  upon 
himself  to  support  his  widowed  mother  in  comfort;  and  under  his  care  she 
lived  to  be  ninety-eight. 

His  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  tlie  springs  of  human  action  made  him 
souglit  for  by  tho.se  who  needed  consolation  and  advice;  and  he  was  frequently 
appealed  to  as  an  arbiter.  His  exactness  and  method  made  him  a  good  man 
of  business,  and  once,  when  circumstances  compelled  him  to  act  as  the  admin- 
istrator of  a  very  complicated  estate,  he  did  it  so  well  that  he  won  the  grati- 
tude of  all  persons  concerned.  In  politics  he  was  a  Federalist  of  the  old 
school,  fioni  which  he  never  deviated  a  hand's  breadth;  and  had  he  lived  a 
hundred  3'ears  he  would  have  been  a  Federalist  to  the  last.  But  what  he  was 
most  remai'kable  for  was,  that,  while  his  own  opinions  were  held  with  tena- 
city, and  while  he  was  often  unavoidably  engaged  in  theological  polemics,  he 
maintained  a  steady,  consistent  attachment  to  freedom  of  conscience  and  of 
thought,  the  right  of  free  inquiry,  the  right  of  private  judgment.  In  this  I 
think  nobody  ever  excelled  him.  It  seemed  to  form  an  elemental  part  of  him. 
Whenever  members  of  his  family  consulted  him  on  a  question  of  belief,  he 
never  taught  tliem  by  his  own  authority,  but  would  set  before  them  arguments 
on  each  side,  and  recommend  to  them  the  best  writers  on  the  subject;  he 
really  wished  them  to  arrive  at  their  conclusions  by  their  own  unbiased 
reflection.  This  respect  for  private  judgment  he  carried  into  all  departments; 
and  I  cannot  recall  a  single  instance  in  which  he  attempted  to  mould  or  sway 
my  opinions  on  religious  dogmas  or  politics.  The  candid  and  impartial  exer- 
cise of  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  a  teachable  temper,  and  honest  zeal  for 
truth,  formed  his  rule  for  himself  and  for  all  others. 

His  father,  who  was  a  leading  man  in  his  village,  and  remarkable  for  his 
gifts  as  a  speaker,  was  known  as  a  strict  Calvinist,  and  a  thorough  supporter 
of  Jonathan  Edwards.  So  my  father  was  trained  in  his  bo3'hood  in  thestrait- 
est  school  of  orthodoxy;  but  "  the  throes  of  his  own  youthful  mind,"  as  he 
used  to  say,  revolted  against  the  dogmas  of  predestination  and  election.  His 
position  in  the  theological  world  was  further  affected  by  his  encountering, 
early  in  life,  in  a  distant  region,  ignorant  and  presumptuous  religious  enthusi- 
asts. These  circumstances  and  his  characteristic  antipathy  to  all  exaggera- 
tion, and  his  distrust  of  the  effects  of  excitements,  set  him  against  fanaticism 
and  excess  in  all  their  forms. 

My  father's  theology  was  of  New  England  origin,  and,  like  that  of  so  many 
others,  was  a  logical  consequence  of  the  reaction  against  the  severities  of  our 
Puritan  fathers.  He  was  thoroughly  a  Protestant  and  a  Congregationalist. 
Of  English  theological  writers,  he  was  fond  of  reading,  among  others,  Tillot- 
son,  Samuel  Clarke,  Price,  Bishop  Butler,  the  liberal  Bishop  Law,  the  Phi- 
losopher Locke.  lie  had  no  sympathy  with  Belsham  or  his  school,  and  read 
little  or  nothing  of  their's  till  late  in  life.  For  several  years  he  was  a  sub- 
scriber to  the  Christian  Observer,  while  it  was  an  English  Low  Church  peri- 
odical. He  always  remembered  with  pleasure  that,  happening  to  sojourn  for 
a  time  in  a  town  where  there  was  but  one  building  for  public  worship,  he  and 


140  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

an  Episcopal  minister  conducted  the  service  alternately  in  perfect  harmony. 
The  division  in  the  Congregational  Church  in  Massachusetts  he  deplored  and 
resisted.  It  met  his  cordial  approval  that  his  children  should  attend  the  ser- 
vices of  a  Calvinistic  minister,  where  there  was  no  other  Congregationalist. 
Once  he  commended  one  of  them  by  letter  to  a  Calvinistic  Church  in  another 
town,  as  a  church-member  in  regular  standing;  and  when  one  of  his  daught- 
ers married  a  Calvinist,  he  advised  her  to  worship  at  the  same  church  with 
her  husband.  lie  considered  reason  as  a  primary  and  universal  revelation 
of  God  to  men  of  all  nations  and  all  ages;  he  was  sure  of  the  necessary  har- 
mony between  reason  and  true  religion,  and  he  did  not  scruple  to  reject  what- 
ever seemed  to  him  plainly  in  contradiction  Avith  it. 

Age  may  have  impaired  his  vivacity;  but  his  last  years  were  serene;  and 
•whenever  it  was  discussed  whether  a  man  would  like  to  live  his  life  over  again, 
my  father  always  expressed  himself  so  well  satisfied  with  his  career  that  he 
would  willingly  run  it  once  more. 

He  took  little  heed  of  what  men  said  of  him,  whether  in  blame  or  in  praise, 
but  steadily  went  on  his  way  with  undeviating  constancy,  firmness,  and  good 
temper.  Ills  theological  opponents,  as  well  as  his  nearer  friends,  bore  testi- 
mony to  his  uprightness;  and  his  character  gained  for  him,  among  all  classes 
of  the  community  in  which  he  lived,  a  solid  influence  and  respect  such  as  I 
have  never  known  exceeded;  indeed  I  think  I  may  say  that  it  has  not  been 
equalled.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Ever  with  great  regard. 

Very  faithfully  your  friend, 

GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


THOMAS  TIIACHER5 

1780—1812. 

Thomas  Thacher  was  a  descendant,  in  the  fourth  generation,  from  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Thacher,  the  first  minister  of  the  Old  Soutli  Cliurch,  ia 
Boston.  He  was  a  son  of  Oxeiibridge  Thacher,  Esq.,  a  lawyer,  of  Boston, 
and  was  born  on  the  24th  of  October,  1756.  In  early  life  he  evinced 
much  more  than  ordinary  force  of  intellect,  but  it  was  combined  with  an 
imprudent,  reckless  spirit,  that  gave  little  promise  of  either  respectability 
or  usefulness.  At  what  period  his  mind  took  a  more  serious  direction,  I 
Lave  been  unable  to  ascertain.  At  the  age  of  about  fifteen,  he  entered 
Harvard  College,  where  he  was  a  vigorous  and  successful  student,  and 
graduated  in  1775.  How  or  where  he  spent  the  five  years  immediately 
succeeding  his  graduation  does  not  appear  ;  but,  on  the  7th  of  June,  1780, 
he  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Tliird  Church  in  Dedham. 
The  indiscretions  and  follies  of  his  youth  had  awakened  strong  prejudices 
against  him,  so  tliat  his  ministry  did  not  commence  under  the  fairest 
auspices  ;  and  his  peculiarities  of  temper  and  n)anner  were  such  that  those 
early  prejudices  probably  never  entirely  died  out. 

Mr.  Tliacher  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  politics  of  his  day,  though  his 
pollllcal  course  is  said  to  have  been  characterized  by  some  degree  of  insta- 
bility.    In  1788,   he  was  chosen  a  delegate,  with   the  Hon.  Fisher  Ames, 

Columbian  Centinel,  1812. — Worthington"s  Ilist.  of  Dedham. — Ms.  from  Rev.  Dr.  Pierce. 


THOMAS   THACHER.  141 

for  Dedham,  to  the  Convention  for  ratifying  the  Federal  Constitution,  and 
made  an  earnest  speech  in  behalf  of  its  ratification.  Even  more  than  most 
of  the  ministers  of  that  period,  he  carried  political  subjects  into  the  pulpit, 
and  discussed  them  with  a  freedom  and  boldness  that  gave  him  no  enviable 
distinction  with  at  least  a  portion  of  his  hearers. 

Mr.  Thacher's  social  habits  were  doubtless  somewhat  modified  by  the 
fact  that  he  lived  till  the  close  of  life  a  bachelor.  There  is  a  tradition 
that,  in  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  he  made  an  unsuccessful  efi"ort  to 
cast  oS"  that  character,  and  that  he  resolved  he  would  not  expose  him- 
self to  a  second  disappointment.  But,  though  he  had  no  wife  to  direct  his 
domestic  concerns,  he  was  one  of  the  most  hospitable  of  men,  and  would 
sometimes  carry  his  attentions  to  his  guests  to  such  a  length  that  they 
even  became  burdensome.  His  attachment  to  his  people  was  of  the  most 
devoted  kind  ;  and  one  of  the  sorest  afflictions  of  his  life  was,  that  nearly 
a  third  part  of  his  little  flock  left  him,  and  joined  a  Baptist  Society,  on 
account  of  being  dissatisfied  with  the  location  of  a  new  meeting-house. 

Mr.  Thacher  was  a  fine  classical  scholar,  and  was  engaged,  during  nearly 
his  whole  ministry,  in  fitting  young  men  for  College. 

There  was  sometliing  significant  in  the  manner  in  which  he  disposed  of 
his  property.  After  making  legacies  to  a  few  friends,  he  bequeatlied  the 
whole  to  his  parish,  on  condition  that  they  should  settle  a  minister  within 
five  years  from  his  death,  and  that  he,  and  all  his  successors,  should  be 
moderately  Culvinistic  in  tlieir  views,  should  be  graduates  of  Harvard  Col- 
lege, and  should  have  received  no  part  of  their  education  at  the  Theolo- 
gical Seminary  at  Andover. 

Mr.  Thacher  was  a  member  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences. 

He  died  on  tlie  19th  of  October,  1812,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  his  age, 
and  the  thirty-third  of  his  ministry.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached 
by  the  llev.  Stephen  Palmer,  of  Needham,  from  John  xvii,  4. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D. 

Springfield,  February  28,  1856. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  might  perhaps  decline  your  request  for  my  recollections  of 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Thacher,  of  Dedham,  on  the  ground  of  my  having  never  had 
a  very  intimate  acquaintance  with  him,  if  I  could  refer  you  to  any  person 
whose  knowledge  of  him  is  likely  to  be  much  more  extended  or  particular  than 
my  own.  I  knew  him  first  about  the  close  of  180G,  while  I  was  a  student  of 
Theology  under  Dr.  Harris,  of  Dorchester;  and  my  opportunities  for  becoming 
acquainted  with  him  were  limited  to  the  period  of  my  residence  in  that  neigh- 
bourhood. I  have  no  doubt,  in  respect  to  my  appreciation  of  his  character, 
for  its  most  distinguishing  features  Avere  so  marked  and  palpable  that  it  was 
not  easy  to  mistake  in  respect  to  them. 

Mr.  Thacher  was  a  man  of  a  portly  and  commanding  figure,  and  had  a  face 
expressive  of  much  more  than  common  intellectual  power.  His  manners  were 
sufficiently  free  and  cordial,  but  somewhat  blunt,  and  indicative  of  what  he 
really  possessed, — great  independence  of  character.  You  could  not  meet  him 
in  the  most  casual  interview,  without  perceiving  that  he  had  not  the  fear  of 
man  before  his  eyes.  He  had  great  power  of  sarcasm,  and  he  indulged  it 
eometimes  perhaps  without  the  most  delicate  regard  to  circumstances      But 


142  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

there  was  a  manifest  openness  and  honesty  of  purpose  that  all  recognized  as 
a  redeeming  feature,  and  as  rendering  less  objectionable  that  unceremonious 
bluntness,  and  even  severity,  which  could  hardly  fail  sometimes  to  give  offence. 

In  his  religious  opinions,  Mr.  Tliacher  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  Unita- 
rian; but  I  never  heard  him  say  any  thing  from  which  I  could  infer  what  was 
the  particular  type  of  his  Unitarianism;  -and  I  think  it  quite  possible,  consid- 
ering the  period  at  whicli  he  lived,  that  he  rather  reposed  in  the  negative  con- 
viction that  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  is  not  a  Scripture  doctrine,  than  in 
any  very  definite  positive  view  of  the  subject.  Some  of  his  writings  snow 
clearly  that  he  had  not  only  no  sympathy  with  Calvinism,  but  viewed  it  with 
marked  disapprobation.  I  refer  particularly  to  a  brief  notice  of  the  life  of 
Dr.  West,  of  Boston,  written  shortly  after  Dr.  W.'s  death,  and  published,  I 
think,  in  connection  with  the  Sermon  preached  at  his  Funeral. 

As  a  Preacher,  he  had  none  of  the  graces  of  rhetoric,  or  other  qualities 
fitted  to  render  him  especially  popular;  but  he  had  a  vein  of  strong  sense, 
whicii,  I  believe,  gave  him  considerable  favour  with  persons  of  reflection  and 
intelligence.  His  printed  sermons,  which  are  not  very  numerous,  are  written 
with  great  perspicuity  and  directness,  and  if  they  were  a  specimen  of  his  ordi- 
narj'  preaching,  I  should  say  that  his  discourses  could  not  have  been  lacking 
in  well-arranged  thought,  however  little  they  may  have  been  distinguished  for 
unction. 

I  believe  it  was  generally  considered  that  Mr.  Thacher's  very  decided  fond- 
ness, amounting  almost  to  a  passion,  for  mirthfulness  and  witticism,  abated 
somewhat  from  both  the  dignity  and  the  efficiency  of  his  ministerial  character. 
I  have  heard  many  humorous  anecdotes  illustrative  of  this,  which  I  suppose 
to  be  authentic;  but  I  will  limit  myself  to  one  or  two.  He  was  observed,  on 
a  Sabbath  afternoon,  repeatedly  to  smile  in  the  pulpit;  and  when  some  per- 
son, at  the  close  of  the  service,  asked  him  what  was  the  cause  of  it,  he  replied, 
«'  Why,  I  was  preaching  the  very  same  sermon,  word  for  word,  this  afternoon, 
that  I  had  preached  in  the  morning,  and  I  was  laughing  to  see  how  gravely 
you  took  it — just  as  if  you  had  never  heard  it  before."  On  one  occasion, 
he  exchanged  with  Mr.  Buckminster,  of  Boston.  There  were  a  number  of 
young  men,  who  were  attracted  to  the  Brattle-Street  Cliurch  by  Mr.  Buckmin- 
ster's  eloquence;  and  if  they  found  anj^  other  minister  in  the  pulpit,  they 
were  accustomed  abruptly  to  leave  the  house.  When  they  saw  Mr.  Thacher 
tliere,  probably  without  knowing  who  he  Avas,  they,  as  usual,  rose  and  moved 
out.  Mr.  T.  observed  the  indecorum,  and  alluded  to  it  at  his  nephew's  during 
the  intermission,  remarking,  at  the  same  time, — "  I  have  at  least  shown 
myself  possessed  of  one  apostolical  gift  to-day — that  of  casting  out  devils." 

Such  are  my  recollections  and  impressions  of  Thomas  Thacher — a  man  of 
decided  talents,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  of  amiable  and  generous  dispositions; 
but  eccentric,  droll,  and  perhaps  I  must  add,  lacking  in  ministerial  circum- 
spection. Faithfully  yours, 

SAMUEL  OSGOOD. 


JOHN    REED.  143 


JOHN  REED,  D.  D  * 

1780—1831. 

The  father  of  John  Reed  was  the  Rev.  Solomon  Reed,  who  was  Pastor 
successively  of  the  Church  in  Framingham,  Mass.,  and  of  the  North 
Churcli  in  Middleborough,  and  died  in  1785.  His  mother's  maiden  name 
was  Abigail  Ilorton.  He  was  born  in  Framingham,  on  the  11th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1751  ;  but,  in  consequence  of  the  removal  of  his  father,  a  short  time 
after,  most  of  his  early  years  were  spent  in  Middleborough.  Having  gone 
through  his  preparatory  studies,  under  the  instruction  of  his  father,  he 
entered  Yale  College  in  1768, — that  institution  being  preferred  to  Har- 
vard, chiefly  on  the  ground  of  its  being  considered  more  favourable  to  the 
Calvinistic  system  of  doctrine,  of  which  his  father  was  an  earnest  supporter. 
He  maintained  a  high  standing  as  a  scholar  during  his  college  course,  and 
graduated  in  1772. 

After  his  graduation,  he  remained  at  New  Haven,  and  pursued  his  theo- 
logical studies,  probably  under  the  direction  of  President  Daggett.  It 
was  during  this  period  that  his  mind  underwent  a  great  change  in  respect 
to  Christian  doctrine  ;  and.  instead  of  settling  down  in  the  Calvinistic 
creed,  to  which  he  had  been  educated,  he  became  a  thorough  convert  to 
the  Arminian  system,  and  always  held  to  it  with  great  tenacity  during  the 
rest  of  his  life.  After  leaving  New  Haven,  he  continued  his  theological 
studies  for  some  time  under  the  direction  of  his  father.  Shortly  after  he 
began  to  preach,  he  was  employed  as  a  Cliaplain  in  the  Navy.  He,  how- 
ever, never  actually  went  to  sea,  tliough  he  held  the  office  two  years. 

After  becoming  a  candidate  for  settlement,  he  was  invited  to  preach  in 
a  Parish  in  Bridgcwater,  which  now  forms  the  separate  town  of  West 
Bridgewater.  His  services  proved  highly  acceptable  to  the  people,  and 
they  gave  him  a  call  to  become  Colleague  Pastor  with  the  Rev.  Daniel 
Perkins,!  the  aged  minister  of  the  Parish.  He  accepted  their  call,  and 
was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  7th  of  January,  1780,  the  Sermon  on 
the  occasion  being  preached  by  his  father. 

In  1794,  Dr.  Reed  was  elected  a  member  of  Congress,  and  he  continued 
a  member  six  years.  It  was  not  an  office  of  his  own  seeking,  but  he 
consented  to  it,  in  compliance  with  the  earnest  wish  of  his  constituents, 
and  from  an  honest  desire  to  servo  his  country.  He  was  regarded,  in  this 
relation,  as  eminently  wise  and  judicious,  and,  though  his  voice  was  not 
often  heard,  he  always  spoke  words  of  weight,  and  his  opinion  was  highly 
respected.  He  was  a  Federalist  of  the  Washington  and  John  Adams 
school,  and  enjoyed  the  friendship  and  confidence  of  those  illustrious  men. 

In  1803,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Brown  University.  In  1812,  he  delivered  the  Dudleian  Lecture  at  Har- 
vard College. 

*  Hodge's  Fun.  Serm. — Ms.  from  his  son,  Mr.  Sampson  Reed. 

j-  Daniel  Perkins  was  born  in  Topsfield  in  1696;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1717;  was  settled  as  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  West  Bridgewater,  October  4,  1721;  and  died 
September  29,  1782,  aged  eighty-six  years. 


144  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Dr.  Reed  spent  the  last  ten  years  of  liis  life  in  total  darkness,  having 
irrecoverably  lost  his  sight  by  means  of  cataracts.  The  last  time  that  he 
could  avail  himself  of  the  aid  of  a  manuscript  in  preaching,  was  in  Novem- 
ber, 1820,  at  the  Funeral  of  liis  friend  and  neigh))Our,  the  llev.  Dr.  Sanger. 
He,  however,  continued  to  preach  regularly  until  a  sliort  time  before  his 
death.  He  was  accustomed  to  study  his  subjects  thoroughly  dnriiig  the 
week,  and  to  trust  to  the  workings  of  his  mind  for  the  appropriate  lan- 
guage, at  tlie  time  of  the  delivery.  The  portions  of  Scripture,  and  the 
Hymns,  which  he  had  occasion  to  use,  he  committed  to  memory  by  hearing 
tliem  read.  As  an  illustration  of  the  remarkable  accuracy  and  discrimina- 
tion which  he  attained  in  his  hearing,  after  he  became  blind,  lie  stated 
that  he  was  riding,  at  a  certain  time,  in  Middleborough,  where  he  lived 
when  a  boy,  and  he  met  a  man  driving  a  team.  He  stopped  and  spoke  to 
him,  sa3ing  that  he  could  not  see  him,  and  had  never  seen  him,  but  he 
could  tell  whose  son  he  was,  by  the  sound  of  his  voice  ;  and  he  actually 
told  correctly. 

Dr.  Reed  died  of  lung  fever,  on  the  17th  of  February,  1831,  in  the 
eightieth  year  of  his  age,  and  the  fifty-first  of  his  ministry.  In  his  last 
hours,  he  expressed  a  deep  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  a  grateful 
sense  of  the  Divine  goodness,  and  then  took  leave  of  his  family  with  great 
composure  and  tenderness.  The  devotional  services  at  his  Funeral  were, 
by  his  own  request,  conducted  by  the  Rev.  Pitt  Clark,  of  Norton  ;  and  a 
Sermon,  commemorative  of  him,  was  preached  the  Sabbath  after  his  Fu- 
neral, by  the  Rev.  R.  M.  Hodges,  minister  of  the  First  Congregational 
Society  in  Bridgewater. 

He  M'as  married  in  November.  1780,  to  Hannah,  daughter  of  Uriah 
Sampson,  of  Middleborough.  She  was  a  descendant  of  the  two  veteran 
Puritans,  John  Alden  and  Miles  Standish.  They  had  eight  children,  five 
sons  and  three  daughters.  The  eldest  son,  John,  was  graduated  at  Brown 
University  in  1803,  and  subsequently  practised  Law  at  Yarmouth,  Barn- 
stable county.  He  was,  for  many  years,  a  member  of  Congress,  and  sub- 
sequently Lieutenant  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  under  the  administration 
of  Governor  Briggs.  His  two  youngest  sons  were  graduated  at  Cam- 
bridge— one  of  whom,  Caleb,  studied  Law,  but,  relinquishing  the  profes- 
sion, became  connected  with  a  manufacturing  establishment — the  other, 
Savipso?i,  studied  Theology  at  Cambridge  ;  but,  having,  during  this  period, 
become  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  the  doctrines  of  Swedenborg,  he  relin- 
quished the  profession,  and  engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits.  Doctor  Reed's 
first  wife  died  in  November,  1815  ;  and  he  was  married,  the  second  time, 
in  1823,  to  Mrs.  Phoebe  Paddock,  the  sister  of  his  former  wife. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Reed's  publications  : — 

A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Kilborti  Whitman,*  1787.  A  Sermon 
at  the  Ordination  of  Jonas  Hartwell.t  1792.     The  Right  Hand  of  Fellow- 

•  KiLHonN  Whitman  was  a  native  of  Bridgewater;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1785;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Pembroke,  December  12,  1787; 
resigned  his  charge  on  the  12th  of  December,  1796;  and  died  in  December,  1835,  aged  sev- 
enty-one years. 

t  Jonas  IIartwell  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth  College  in  1787;  was  ordained  and 
installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Kittery  in  1792;  was  dismissed  in  1798;  and  died  in  1810, 
aged  forty-nine. 


JOHN    REED.  145 

ship  at  the  Ordination  of  James  Wilson,  in  Providence,  1793.  The  Right 
Hand  of  Fellowship  at  the  Ordination  of  James  Flint,  in  East  Bridge- 
water,  1806.  An  Apology  for  the  Rite  of  Infant  Baptism,  1806.  A 
Sermon  before  the  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers  in  Massachu- 
setts, 1807.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Daniel  Johnson,  in  Orleans, 
Mass.,  1808.  A  Sermon  before  the  Plymouth  Association  of  Ministers, 
preached  in  Middlcborough,  1810.  A  Sermon  before  the  Society  for  Pro- 
moting Christian  Knowledge,  Piety  and  Charity,  1814. 

In  1811,  Di".  Reed  was  a  member  of  the  Unitarian  Council  convened  at 
Coventry,  in  the  case  of  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot;  and  there  I  saw  him  for 
the  first  time.  I  remember  distinctly  his  grave  and  dignified  appearance, 
and  my  impression  that  he  was  one  of  the  leading  spirits  of  the  Council. 
There  was  a  public  religious  service,  one  afternoon,  during  the  session  of 
the  Council,  and  Dr.  Reed  was  the  preacher.  His  text  was, — "  For  why 
dost  thou  judge  thy  brother  ?" — and  I  remember  it  was  understood  to 
be  a  sermon  for  the  occasion, — designed  to  rebuke  the  spirit  that  had  dic- 
tated the  decision  of  the  Consociation  of  Tolland  county,  in  respect  to  Mr. 
Abbot,  a  few  weeks  before.  If  my  memory  serves  me,  it  was  delivered 
with  little  animation,  though  with  great  gravity  and  solemnity  of  manner. 
I  never  saw  him  but  once  after  this  ;  and  that  was  at  his  own  house  in 
Bridgewater,  some  two  or  three  years  before  his  death.  He  was  then 
stone  blind,  but  he  gave  me  a  very  cordial  welcome,  for  which  I  believe  1 
was  partly  indebted  to  the  fact  that  I  had  been  settled  at  West  Springfield, 
as  a  colleague  with  Dr.  Lathrop,  whose  character  he  held  in  the  highest 
reverence.  I  found  him  perfectly  cheerful  under  his  affliction,  though: 
never  expecting  to  see  the  light  of  the  sun  again.  I  was  struck  with  the 
clearness  and  comprehensiveness  of  his  views  upon  every  subject  that  was- 
introduced,  and  was  not  a  little  entertained  by  many  interesting  incidents- 
in  connection  with  his  own  experience,  especially  while  a  member  of  Con- 
gress. He  spoke  in  terms  of  high  respect  of  Dr.  Ashbel  Green,  for  whom, 
he  used  sometimes  to  preach,  and  with  whom  I  understood  he  was  in  plea,- 
sant  and  quite  intimate  relations.  It  was  evident  that  his  mind  was- 
exceedingly  active,  and  that  which  seemed  so  great  a  calamity, — the  loss 
of  his  sight,  was  no  doubt  the  means  of  increasing  his  power  of  abstraction 
and  concentration.  From  his  treatment  of  me,  as  well  as  from  remarks 
that  he  made  concerning  others,  I  inferred  that  he  was  a  person  of  enlarged,, 
generous  feelings,  and  of  great  hospitality. 

In  answer  to  an  application  which  I  made  to  Dr.  Reed's  family,  through 
one  of  his  successors  in  the  ministry,  for  one  or  more  of  his  manuscript 
sermons,  which  might  give  some  idea  of  his  views  of  Christian  doctrine,  I 
received  one,  entitled  "  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  New  Covenant,"  from 
which  I  am  allowed  to  make  the  following  extract : — 

"  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  capacity  of  Mediator  between  God  and  men,  is  a  person  whose 
character  is  exactly  adapted  to  the  case  and  circumstances  of  both  parties. 

"  In  the  sacred  Scriptures,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  often  styled  a  Mediator, — tlic 
Mediator  of  the  New  Covenant  and  New  Testament,  which  is  denominated  a  '  better 
covenant  than  that  of  works,  and  established  on  better  promises.'  lie  is  expressly 
said  to  be  '  the  only  Mediator  between  God  and  man.'  He  is  a  daysman,  an  all-sufi! 
cient  arbiter  and  reconciler, — one  who  is  suitably  qualified  and  able  to- come  between" 
God  and  man,  lay  his  hand  upon  both,  and  remove  the  dreadful  difference. 

"  Being  God's  own  and  only  begotten  Son,  and  dearly  beloved,  with  his  mediation. 
Vol.  VIII.  10 


146  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

God  is  ever  well  pleased.  Him  the  Father  always  heareth  and  regardeth,  and  accord- 
ingly He  is  capable  of  making  peace  between  an  offended  God  and  offending  man,  by 
means  of  his  incarnation,  liis  obedience,  his  sufferings,  his  death,  his  intercessions,  &cc. 
For  this  reason,  lie  is  styled  our  peace  or  peacemaker;  and  the  Gospel  is  called  the 
word  of  reconciliation. 

"  Tlie  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ  were  requisite  in  order  to  set  us  a  more  com- 
plete and  perfect  example  of  resignation  and  submission  to  the  will  of  God,  in  times 
of  affliction  and  distress,  and  also  of  benevolence  towards  our  fellow  creatures.  His 
death  was  also  necessary  to  prepare  the  way  for  his  resurrection,  and  ascension,  and 
exaltation;  for  this,  or  on  account  of  his  great  iuimiliation,  and  suflerings,  and  igno- 
minious death  of  crucifixion,  God  hath  highly  exalted  Him,  and  given  Him  a  name 
which  is  above  every  name.  But  still  liis  death  was  further  requisite  as  an  atoning 
sacrifice.  His  precious  blood  was  the  price  of  our  redemption.  In  this  sense,  his  blood 
cleanseth  from  all  sin — from  all  filthiness  of  flesh  and  spirit.  As  Mediator,  He  suffered 
and  died  for  our  offences — He  exchanged  his  own  innocent,  meritorious  life  for  our 
guilty,  forfeited  lives.  The  iniquities  of  us  all  were  laid  upon  Him.  He  bore  the  pun- 
ishment due  to  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree,  that  we  miglit  be  pardoned  and 
acquitted.  Thus,  by  his  active  and  passive  obedience,  by  obeying  the  precepts  and 
suffering  the  penalty  of  God's  law,  which  mankind  had  broken.  He  hath  fulfilled  and 
made  it  honourable,  and  brought  in  an  everlasting  righteousness  for  their  justification 
and  salvation." 

The    discourse  of  which  the  above  is  a  part  is  without  date,  but,  from 

the  appearance  of  the  manuscript,  I  infer  that  it  must  have  been  among 

Dr.  Reed's  later  productions. 

FROxM  THE  REV.  JAMES  FLINT,  D.  D. 

Salem,  October  16,  1850. 

My  dear  Sir:  As  you  have  asked  of  me,  I  give  you,  in  brief,  my  recollec- 
tions of  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  John  Reed,  of  Bridgewater,  who  was  my  neighbour 
and  friend,  and  greatly  respected  father  in  the  ministry,  during  my  pastoral 
connection,  of  nearly  fourteen  years,  with  the  First  Church  and  Society  in 
East  Bridgewater;  or,  from  1807  to  my  removal  to  this  place,  in  1821. 

In  person,  Dr.  Reed  was  of  more  than  medium  size,  of  a  firm,  well-built 
frame,  limbs  and  muscles  well  covered  with  flesh,  though  not  corpulent;  formed 
rather  for  strength  than  agility;  with  a  large,  well-shaped  head;  five  feet  and 
eight  or  ten  inches,  I  should  judge,  in  height;  slightly  bending  and  slow  in 
his  gait.  His  features  were  regular,  and  his  eye  black  and  penetrating.  His 
countenance  was  indicative  of  intelligence  and  benignity,  wearing,  in  a  state 
of  repose,  a  grave  and  meditative  aspect;  but,  when  engaged  in  earnest  con- 
versation, it^was  lighted  up  with  a  pleasant  and  cheerful  smile.  Though  natu- 
rally sociable  in  his  disposition,  yet,  finding  but  little  congenial  societj'  in  his 
immediate  neighbourhood,  he  passed  much  of  his  time  in  silent  self-commu- 
nion, in  abstract  thinking  and  metaphysical  speculation.  "When,  however,  the 
opportunity  offered,  no  man  delighted  more  in  conversation  with  his  brethren 
or  other  intelligent  friends.  His  domestic  afi'ections  were  strong,  and  in  his 
domestic  relations  and  in  quiet  home  enjoyments,  he  was  eminently  favoured. 
He  was  but  sparingly  endowed  with  the  imaginative,  or  else  he  kept  his  imagi- 
nation in  rigid  subjection  to  his  reason — certainlj^  he  was  no  dealer  in  tropes. 
He  expressed  his  thoughts  in  plain,  unaffected  phraseolog}-;  in  words  from 
'«  the  pure  well  of  English  undefiled."  He  rarely,  if  ever,  availed  himself  of 
a  striking  image  or  metaphor,  either  for  ornament  or  illustration,  in  conver- 
sation or  writing.  lie  was  chiefly  distinguished  for  his  strong  good  sense,  a 
clear  and  discriminating  judgment,  and  close  and  cogent  reasoning;  indeed,  I 
think  he  had  few  superiors  in  conducting  an  argument,  especially  on  an 
abstract  subject. 

Dr.  Reed's  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  marked  b}^  unaffected  seriousness,  a 
distinct  and  deliberate  utterance,  seldom  very  animated,  with  no  great  variety 
of  emphasis   or   modulation,  his   voice  being  of  a  pitch  too  much  above  the 


CHARLES   STEARNS.  147 

grave  key  to  be  very  commanding,  or  suited  to  fill  a  large  space.  The  sound 
sense  and  vigorous  reasoning  which  characterized  his  discourses  never  failed 
to  secure  the  attention  of  the  intelligent  hearer.  "  He  was,"  says  Dr.  Brad- 
ford, in  his  New  England  Biography,  «<  a  practical,  though  an  argumentative 
preacher,  and  sought  to  improve  his  hearers  both  in  knowledge  and  virtue." 
His  taste  inclined  him,  as  his  talents  fitted  him,  for  metaphysical  inquiries; 
and  he  had  a  friendly  controversy  upon  the  doctrine  of  Necessity  with  an 
acute  and  ingenious  clergyman  in  his  neighbourhood,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Niles,  of 
Abingdon.  They  both  published  the  substance  of  their  arguments  in  pam- 
phlets; and  Dr.  Reed,  without  convincing  his  antagonist  or  being  convinced  by 
him,  defended  his  position  with  a  very  uncommon  degree  of  metaphysical 
acumen.  A  man  so  accustomed  to  profound  and  abstract  thinking,  we  should 
expect,  would  occasionally  betray  that  unconsciousness  of  what  was  passing 
before  him,  which,  in  common  parlance,  we  call  absence  of  mind;  and  so  it 
really  was.  His  lady  used  to  illustrate  this  by  a  pleasant  anecdote.  While 
his  children  were  reading  the  chapter  in  connection  with  the  morning  worship 
of  the  family,  some  word  or  sentence  awakened  a  train  of  thought,  in  which 
he  remained  absorbed  some  time  after  they  had  finished  the  chapter,  when, 
recollecting  himself,  he  called  out  to  his  young  readers,  much  to  their  amuse- 
ment,— "  Come,  get  your  Bibles,  and  read  your  chapter  for  praj^ers." 

Dr.  Reed  was  ranked,  by  his  contemporaries,  at  the  close  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, amongst  the  ministers  who  were  Anti-Calvinistic  or  Arminian,  in  their 
theological  views.  In  regard  to  the  character  of  Christ,  I  think  he  was  a  high 
Arian,  differing  little,  if  at  all,  from  the  views  of  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  or  of 
Noah  Worcester,  as  set  forth  in  his  "  Bible  News." 

His  general  bearing  in  societj^  was  quiet,  affable,  unassuming,  indicative  of 
a  cheerful  and  serene  spirit,  of  great  candour  and  freedom  from  prejudice, 
and  he  regarded  as  his  Christian  brethren  all  good  men,  of  whatever  sect  or 
creed.  He  enjoyed,  in  a  high  degree,  the  affectionate  respect  of  his  people, 
and  of  his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  and  exercised  a  wide  influence  in  the 
community  at  large.  With  great  respect. 

Very  truly  yours, 

JAMES  FLINT. 


CHARLES  STEARNS,  D.  D.* 

1781—1826. 

Charles  Stearns,  a  son  of  Thomas  and  Lydia  (Mansfield)  Stearns, 
was  born  July  19,  1753.  His  father  lived  successively  at  Lynn,  Lunen- 
burg, Fitchburg  and  Leominster  ;  in  the  latter  of  which  places  Charles 
was  born.  He  entered  Harvard  University  in  1769,  and  graduated  in 
1773,  having  been  distinguished,  during  his  whole  course,  for  vigorous  and 
successful  application  to  study.  Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he 
engaged  in  teaching  a  school,  and  at  the  same  time  commenced  the  study 
of  Theology  ;  but  when  or  by  what  Association  he  was  licensed  to  preach 
I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain.  Ihiring  the  years  1780  and  '81,  he 
was  Tutor  at  Cambridge,  and,  on  his  resigning  the  place,  the  class  under 
his  immediate  care  gave  him  a  substantial  token  of  their  good-will  and 

*  Mss.  from  Rev.  Dr.  A.  P.  Peabody,  Rev.  J.  L.  Sibley,  Rev.  C.  C.  Sewall,  and  William 
F.  Wheeler,  Esq. 


148  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

regard.  lie  was  a  fine  classical  scholar,  and,  in  the  course  of  his  ministry, 
upwards  of  forty  young  men  were  prepared  by  him  for  admission  to  College. 

Mr.  Stearns  was  first  employed  to  preach  at  Lincoln  in  October,  1780. 
On  the  15th  of  January.  1781,  the  church  voted  unanimously  (twenty-nine 
Tote.-^)  to  give  him  a  call  to  SQttle  with  them  in  the  ministry.  On  the  5th 
of  February,  the  town  concurred,  (sixty-five  to  five,)  and  voted  him  "£220 
in  hard  money  or  its  equivalent,"  ^to  which  £70  was  subseqtiently  added,) 
as  a  settlement,  and  £80  and  15  cords  of  wood  a  year.  In  1797,  the  town 
voted  "  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stearns'  salary  should  be  £80  per  year,  at  all 
times  when  the  current  price  of  Indian  corn  is  3s.  and  rye  4s.  per  bushel, 
and  beef  20s.  and  pork  33s.  per  hundred  ;  and  to  be  increased  or  dimin- 
ished according  as  the  prices  of  those  articles  vary." 

Mr.  Stearns,  having  accepted  the  call  from  the  congregation  at  Lincoln, 
was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  7th  of  November,  1781,  the  Sermon  on 
the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  Zabdiel  Adams  of  Lunenburg. 

In  1792,  some  of  the  principal  citizens  of  Lincoln  joined  in  establishing 
a  school  of  a  high  order,  of  which  Mr.  Stearns  became  the  Principal.  This 
school  continued  about  ten  years,  and  was  eminently  successful.  Six 
quarto  volumes,  containing  his  Lectures  and  Addresses  to  the  pupils,  and 
records  of  their  attendance  and  acquirements,  are  still  in  existence. 

In  1810,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College.  He  was  also  Fellow  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts 
and  Sciences. 

Dr.  Stearns'  ministry,  which  lasted  through  a  period  of  nearly  forty-five 
years,  was  eminently  acceptable  to  his  people,  and  was,  in  a  very  unusual 
degree,  free  from  disturbing  influences.  He  admitted  a  hundred  and  fifty- 
five  to  full  communion,  and  seventy-eight,  after  the  fashion  of  that  day, 
owned  the  covenant. 

Dr.  Stearns  retained  both  his  bodily  and  mental  faculties  in  a  remark- 
able degree.  He  preached  his  last  sermon  on  the  first  Sabbath  in  July, 
1826  ;  and,  within  a  few  days  after  this,  was  attacked  with  an  acute  disease, 
(it  is  believed  to  have  been  bilious  cholic,)  which  terminated  his  life  on  the 
26th  of  that  month.  He  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-three.  His  Funeral 
was  attended  on  the  29th,  and  a  Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Ripley,  of  Concord.  The  town  erected  a  monument  to  his 
memory,  with  an  inscription  of  which  the  following  is  a  part: — 

"  He  was  distinguished  for  his  high  attainments  in  various  branches  of  science;  for 
strength  and  sounduess  of  mind;  for  method  and  accuracy  of  reasoning,  and  facility 
in  communicating  Icnowledge.  By  liis  piety,  benevolence  and  learning,  he  gained  the 
affection  and  respect  of  liis  beloved  people,  the  esteem  and  contidence  of  his  numerous 
friends,  and  the  well-deserved  lionours  of  Literary  Societies.  Hh  hfe  was  full  of 
practical  goodness,  the  genuine  fruit  of  deep-felt  piety,  and  his  death,  of  religious  hope 
and  peace.  By  tlio  habitual  exercise  of  faith,  humility,  patience  and  charity,  he  exhi- 
bited Christianity  in  a  strong  and  prominent  light;  and  is  gone,  it  is  believed,  to  enjoy 
the  rewards  of  a  good  and  faithful  servant  of  Jesus  Christ." 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Stearns'  publications: — 
A  Sermon  at  an  Kxliibition  of  Sacred  Music  in  Lincoln,  1792.  The 
Ladies'  Philosophy  of  Love  :  A  Poem  in  Four  Cantos,  written  in  1774, 
published  in  1797.  Dramatic  Dialogues  for  the  Use  of  Schools,  1798. 
Principles  of  Religion  and  Morality,  1798,  (2d  ed.  1807.)  A  Sermon 
preached  at  the  Interment  of  Hon.  Eleazar  Brooks,  1806.     A  Sermon 


CHARLES   STE.^EXS.  149 

delivered  at  Concord  before  the  Middlesex  Bible  Society,  1815.  A  Ser- 
mon before  the  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers,  Boston,  1815.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Interment  of  Mrs.  Phoebe  Foster,  wife  of  the  Rev.  Edmund 
Foster,  at  Littleton. 

Mr.  Stearns  was  married,  January  7,  1782,  to  Susannah,  daughter  of 
Jonathan  and  Susannah  Cowdry,  of  Reading.  They  had  six  sons  and  five 
daughters.  Two  of  the  sons  entered  the  ministry.  AVilliam  Lawrence, 
born  October  30,1793,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1820; 
sstudied  Theology  with  his  father;  was  licensed  to  preach  in  1823;  was 
ordained  at  Stoughton,  Mass.,  in  November,  1827  ;  was  dismissed  in  De- 
cember, 1830  ;  was  installed  in  Rowe,  in  1831  ;  was  married  to  Mary 
Monroe,  of  Lincoln,  in  1828;  and  died  in  18r7.  Daniel  Mansfield, 
a  twin  of  the  preceding,  was  graduated  at  Brown  University  iu  1822  ;  was 
settled  as  a  minister  at  Dennis  in  1828  ;  was  dismissed  in  1839  ;  was  mar- 
ried to  Betsey  Monroe,  of  Lincoln,  in  1825  ;  and  died  in  his  native  place 
in  1842.  Mrs.  Stearns,  the  mother,  died  on  the  24th  of  July,  1832,  aged 
seventy-seven  years. 

FROM  THE  REV.  XATHAXIEL  WHITMAN". 

Deeefield,  Mass..  April  4,  1864. 

Dear  Sir:  In  compliance  with  the  request  contained  in  your  letter  just 
received,  I  am  happy  to  communicate  to  you  what  I  remember  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Stearns,  only  regretting  that  I  have  not  the  means  of  more  fully  meeting  your 
wishes. 

I  saw  him  for  th"e  first  time  in  180G  or  '07,  while  I  was  an  undergraduate 
at  Harvard  College,  on  the  occasion  of  his  exchanging  pulpits  with  Dr.  Holmes. 
His  sermon  was  designed  to  show  that  the  proof  of  the  Divine  origin  of  Chris- 
tianity is  various,  and  amounts  to  perfect  moral  demonstration.  "  And  yet," 
said  he,  "  objections  are  urged  against  this  position  with  great  confidence;  and 
it  is  even  asserted,  with  a  pretentious  air,  that  Human  Reason,  unassisted  by 
anj'  higher  power,  furnishes  all  the  light  that  we  need."  Pausing  a  little,  and 
then  raising  his  head,  with  a  mild  but  significant  expression,  and  in  a  gentle 
voice,  he  said,  '«  These  objections  naturally  remind  one  of  the  saying  of  the 
pretended  philosopher,  that  he  wondered  why  the  sun  shone  at  all,  inasmuch 
as  it  shines  only  in  the  day  time,  when  we  have  light  enough  without  it."  I 
well  recollect  how  emphatic  seemed  to  be  the  impression  of  his  words,  illus- 
trating the  baselessness  and    folly  of  Infidelitj',  on  the  body  of  the  students. 

Dr.  Stearns  preached  the  Sermon  before  the  Annual  Convention  of  the  Con- 
gregational ministers  of  Massachusetts,  about  the  period  when  there  had 
come  to  be  great  agitation  among  a  portion  of  the  clergy  who  called  them- 
selves orthodox,  in  regard  to  the  duty  of  effecting  an  ecclesiastical  separation 
from  the  so-called  Unitarians.  The  general  scope  and  aim  of  the  Sermon 
were  to  show  that,  in  his  opinion,  such  a  separation  would  be  in  a  high  degree 
unwise;  that  the  Congregational  ministers  should  go  together  as  far  as  they 
were  agreed;  that  they  should  manage  their  differences  with  a  Christian  spirit, 
and  should  build  up  their  churches  and  societies  respectively  on  the  Gospel 
foundation,  and  with  Gospel  materials.  The  estimation  in  which  Dr.  Stearns 
was  held  by  his  clerical  friends  is  indicated  by  the  fact  of  his  being  chosen 
to  preach  the  Convention  Sermon  at  this  exciting  and  stormy  period.  And,  as 
he  was  a  lover,  not  of  controversy,  but  of  peace,  charity  and  conciliation,  they 
hoped  that  his  words  might  prove  an  excellent  oil  poured  upon  the  rising 
waves  of  controversial  bitterness. 


150 


UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


An  invitation  had  been  given  in  the  papers  to  meet  at  Concord  and  form  a 
Bible  Society  for  Middlesex  County.  I  was  present  on  the  occasion.  It 
appeared  that  the  invitation  had  been  published  in  onlj'  two  papers;  and  con- 
sequently it  had  been  seen  by  few,  and  our  gathering  was  very  small.  Dr. 
Stearns  was  chosen  Moderator.  The  question  came  up, — "  What  shall  we 
do  ?  Shall  wc  now  organize,  or  adjourn  till  we  have  a  fuller  meeting?"  Dr. 
M pleaded  earnestly  for  organizing  thsn — Dr.  R pleaded  as  ear- 
nestly for  adjournment.  Thus  we  were  in  quite  a  quandary.  The  Modera- 
tor, looking  blandly  around,  said, — "  Dr.  M ,  I  admire  your  zeal,  for  it 

is  good  to  be  always  zealous  in  a  good  cause;  and  I  also,  Dr.  R ,  admire 

your  conservatism,  because  we  should  let  our  moderation  be  known  to  all 
men,  inasmuch  as  the  Lord  is  at  hand."  Then  addressing  the  little  company, 
he  said, — •'  Gentlemen,  is  it  your  pleasure  that  we  adjourn?" — and  the  gene- 
ral response  was  an  emphatic  yea.  At  the  adjourned  meeting.  Dr.  Stearns 
was  chosen  first  preacher.  His  sermon  was  an  elaborate  and  well  adapted 
discussion  of  the  leading  characteristics  and  infinite  value  of  the  Bible;  of  the 
need  of  its  distribution  far  and  wide;  and  of  our  obligation  to  labour  syste- 
matically in  such  a  cause.  The  Sermon  was  published,  and  was,  in  every 
respect,  a  highly  creditable  performance. 

As  Dr.  Stearns  belonged  to  the  Cambridge  Association,  and  I  to  the  Ando- 
ver  Association,  both  of  which  covered  a  large  extent  of  country,  my  exchan- 
ges with  him  were  rare;  nor  had  I  the  opportunity  of  often  hearing  him  preach. 
Of  the  general  character  of  his  preaching,  however,  I  retain  a  distiiict  impres- 
sion. His  discourses  were  sensible,  practical,  and  in  a  high  degree  biblical; 
and  he  was  ever  gratefully  welcomed  by  all  our  Societies.  Of  his  views  upon 
certain  points  of  Christian  doctrine,  I  am  unable  to  speak  confidently;  but  I 
have  no  doubt  that  he  was  an  Arminian  and  an  Arian.  I  have  always  sup- 
posed that  he  preferred  to  express  his  views  in  respect  to  the  Saviour  in  Scrip- 
ture   language  rather  than  in  any  other. 

Dr.  Stearns  was  of  about  the  medium  height,  well-proportioned,  though 
somewhat  fleshy  and  rotund,  of  a  dignified  aspect,  and  genial,  social  expres- 
sion, which  could  hardly  fail  to  attract  you  to  him,  and  to  secure  j-our  con- 
fidence. His  family  being  not  small,  and  his  salary  not  large,  and  the  edu- 
cation of  his  children  drawing  hard  upon  him,  he  was  necessitated  to  be  much 
at  home,  to  practise  rigid  economy,  and  to  content  himself  with  a  library  of 
only  moderate  extent.  He  was  always  of  a  cheerful,  contented,  happy  spirit, 
and  till  the  close  of  life  kept  up  the  habit  of  diligent  study.  He  was  accus- 
tomed to  walk  a  good  deal  in  his  garden,  studying  all  the  time,  and  some- 
times unconsciously  studying  aloud;  and,  when  he  had  got  ready  to  use  his 
pen,  he  would  step  into  his  study,  and  commit  his  well  matured  thoughts  to 
paper;  and  thus  his  sermon  Avould  be  made.  Some  of  his  neighbours  who 
watched  these  movements,  were  sometimes  not  a  little  amused  by  them. 

He  was  fond  of  educational  processes.  He  loved  the  young.  And  his  slen- 
der means  for  a  living  he  laboured  to  increase  by  keeping  a  school,  during 
several  years,  for  the  young  women  of  his  Society.  One  of  these  ladies 
became  a  member  of  my  congregation.  From  her  I  learned  all  about  this 
school.  It  was  very  popular  and  very  useful.  No  Society  in  his  immediate 
neighbourhood,  I  believe,  stood  so  high  as  his,  as  to  the  actual,  practical  stand- 
ard of  female  education;  and  this  was  owing  mainly  to  the  influence  of  his 
school. 

Of  my  last  interview  with  the  Doctor  I  retain  a  vivid  impression.  Return- 
ing from  an  exchange  near  the  close  of  his  ministry, — though  he  was  yet  well 
and  vigorous, —  I  passed  by  his  house,  and  called  and  spent  an  hour  with  him 
in  most  agreeable  conversation.  He  had  been  compelled  to  sell  his  house 
in  which  his  life  had  been  chiefly  spent,  and  his  pleasant  garden  where  he  had 


CHARLES    STEARNS.  151 

been  accustomed  to  pass  many  happy  hours.  The  house  in  which  he  was 
living  was  a  pleasant  and  commodious  one;  but  it  was  not  his  own.  He  spoke 
of  the  change  which  had  come  over  him  in  this  respect  with  freedom  and 
cheerfulness.  His  countenance  brightened  as  he  spoke  of  his  advancing  years, 
and  of  the  many  mercies  with  which  Providence  had  crowned  his  life,  and 
concluded  by  saying, — "  I  have  got  a  life-lease  of  this  pleasant  house."  I  left 
him  at  his  door  with  a  kindly  smile  upon  his  face,  and  never  saw  him  after- 
wards. Most  respectfully  and  truly  yours, 

NATHANIEL  WHITMAN. 

FROM  THE   REY.  JOSEPH  FIELD,  D.  D. 

A7EST0N,  Mass.,  April  18,  1864. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  have,  within  a  few  days,  received  your  letter  of  the  8th 
instant,  in  which  you  ask  me  to  write  out  for  3'ou  what  I  remember  concern- 
ing the  Rev.  Dr.  Charles  Stearjis. 

My  intercourse  with  him  was  only  during  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life,  and 
was  infrequent, — seldom  seeing  him  but  on  our  yearly  exchanges,  and  at  the 
meetings  of  our  Ministerial  Association. 

As  a  Preacher  he  was  very  acceptable  to  my  people.  There  were  none  of 
the  clergy  of  his  age  whom  they  were  more  glad  to  see  in  my  pulpit.  He 
was,  as  I  have  heard,  an  excellent  scholar.  His  mind  was  enriched  by  much 
study,  reading  and  meditation.  As  a  man  and  a  clergyman,  he  was  univer- 
sally respected,  esteemed  and  beloved.  And  I  cannot  doubt  that  he  is  worthy 
to  be  commemorated  in  your  valuable  publication. 

Allow  me  to  supplement  what  I  have  written  concerning  Dr.  Stearns  by  aii 
extract  from  an  obituary  notice  of  him,  which  appeared  in  the  Christian  Reg- 
ister, shortly  after  his  decease. 

"  The  natural  genius  of  Dr.  Stearns  led  him  to  the  study  of  Mathematics  and 
Metaphysics.  And  had  he  pursued  these  branches  of  science  more  exclusively, 
he  would  have  been  conspicuously  eminent.  He  was  peculiarly  fond  of  ethi- 
cal studies,  and  possessed  a  happy  faculty  of  reasoning  correctly  and  usefully 
on  moral  subjects.  He  was  remarkable  for  blending  a  large  portion  of  com- 
mon sense  with  his  most  philosophical  and  accurate  reasonings.  This  ren- 
dered his  arguments  intelligible  and  satisfactory.  His  talents  of  this  charac- 
ter recommended  his  instructions  when  a  Tutor,  and,  at  all  times,  made  them 
highly  beneficial  and  gratifying.  Instances  have  been  known  where  he  was 
very  successful,  by  his  luminous  instruction,  in  extricating  the  minds  of  young 
persons  from  doubts,  perplexity  and  distress,  on  religious  subjects.  He  had 
treasured  up  a  rich  fund  of  the  most  useful  kind  of  knowledge,  which  he  had 
acquired  with  facility,  and,  by  the  aid  of  a  strong  and  retentive  niemoiy,  he 
seldom,  if  ever,  lost  what  he  had  acquired. 

As  a  Theologian  and  Christian  Minister,  Dr.  Stearns  was  enlightened,  sound 
and  evangelical.  His  sermons,  published  and  preached,  are  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  this  assertion.  The  Bible  was  read  by  him  in  itsoiiginal  languages, 
and  it  was  his  great  aim  to  understand  and  present  the  truth  as  revealed.  On 
disputed  points  in  Theolog}'-  he  avoided  extremes,  believing  that  those  articles 
of  faith  and  nice  distinctions  in  which  the  learned  and  godlj-  could  not  agree, 
could  not  be  essential  to  the  salvation  or  edification  of  the  unlearned.  But  he 
was  candid  and  liberal  in  his  opinions  and  feelings  towards  those  who  differed 
from  him  on  religious  subjects  of  controversy,  and  rejected,  with  entire  dis- 
approbation, bigotry  and  an  exclusive  spirit  and  practice.  He  thought  for 
himself,  and  refused  to  attach  himself  to  any  modern  sect,  or  to  call  any  man 
master  on  earth.  If  he  preferred  any  designating  appellation,  it  was  that  of" 
a  Congregational  Minister  of  Jesus    Christ. 


152  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

"With  all  the  learning  and  enlarged  powers  of  Dr.  Stearns,  he  could  not 
probably  be  called  an  eloquent  preacher.  Yet  his  enunciation  was  distinct 
and  agreeable,  and  his  sermons  well-written,  correct,  and  often  powerful  to 
serious  and  intelligent  hearers.  *  *  *  * 

"  His  social  disposition  and  his  capacity  to  enjoy  good  in  the  world  Avere 
remarkable.  He  enjo3-cd  his  family,  his  friends  and  societ}'',  in  a  high  degree, 
and  seemed  to  be  happy  and  thankful  in  circumstances  in  which  most  men 
would  be  comfortless  and  wretched.  Naturally  he  possessed  strong  feelings 
and  quick  sensibility.  But  he  had  happily  acquired  the  government  of  his 
passions  and  feelings.  This  conquest  was  gained  under  the  influence  of  the 
Christian  religion."  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

JOSEPH  FIELD. 

FROM  THE   REV.  SAMUEL  SEWALL. 

Burlington,  Mass.,  April  29,  1864. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stearns,  of  Lincoln,  was 
but  partial,  so  that  I  am  able  to  communicate  but  little  in  respect  to  him. 

He  was  in  person,  I  should  think,  about  five  feet  and  a  half  tall;  was 
exceedingly  corpulent  for  a  clergyman,  and  had  a  verj'  mild,  placid  counte- 
nance, that  was  quite  indicative  of  his  temper  and  disposition. 

I  well  remember  when,  after  my  defection  from  the  Episcopal  Church,  on 
account  of  some  scruples  I  had  in  regard  to  the  personalicy  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
I  made,  in  June,  1811,  application  to  the  Cambridge  Association  for  approba- 
tion to  preach,  (though  I  had  received  Deacon's  Orders  from  Bishop  Moore, 
at  New  York,  in  February,  1810,)  that  Dr.  Stearns  was  present;  and  I  well 
remember  too  how  mild  and  candid  he  was  at  my  examination.  From  all 
that  I  ever  saw  or  heard  of  him,  I  suppose  that,  like  his  neighbour.  Dr.  Ken- 
dall, of  Weston,  he  must  have  been  originally  an  orthodox  man,  but  soft- 
ened down  in  his  sentiments  to  Arminianism,  and  at  length  strongly  inclined 
to  Unitarianism  at  least,  if  he  was  not  absolutely  a  Unitarian,  from  his  inter- 
course with  many  of  the  clergy  in  the  vicinity  of  Cambridge.  He  had  the 
reputation  of  being  a  good  scholar;  took  much  interest  in  the  schools  of  Lin- 
coln, I  have  always  understood,  the  benefit  of  which  they  enjoyed  for  years,  I 
believe,  after  his  decease.  The  people  of  Lincoln  always  seemed  to  respect 
him  very  highlj';  and,  under  his  fostering  care  for  the  interests  of  education 
among  them,  they  became  (as  it  seemed  to  me)  an  unusually  well-informed 
and  orderlj"-  community.  The  Hon.  Samuel  Hoar,  of  Concord,  Samuel  Far- 
rar,  Esq.,  my  particular  Tutor  at  Harvard,  (still  living  at  South  Andover,) 
and  his  brother,  the  late  Professor  John  Farrar,  were  all  of  them,  as  T  believe, 
fitted  for  College  by  him;  and,  if  I  do  not  greatly  misrecoUect,  I  heard  the 
latter  gentleman  once  say  that  Dr.  Stearns  published  a  Reading  Book,  which 
was  once  used  in  the  schools  at  Lincoln. 

Attending  a  meeting  of  the  Middlesex  Bible  Society,  at  his  house  in  Lincoln, 
about  May,  1823,  (a  Society  in  which  Dr.  Stearns  took  much  interest,)  I 
engaged  an  exchange  with  him  for  a  Sabbath  in  July  following,  which  we  ful- 
filled. I  remember  that  when  there,  on  that  or  some  similar  occasion,  I  could 
not  but  admire  the  good  sense  of  his  lady,  and  the  appearance  of  neatnesS;  order 
and  economy,  which  prevailed  in  and  around  the  house;  by  which  excellent 
qualities  her  liusband  was  enabled  to  live  comfortably  and  reputably  on  a 
very  limited  salarj'.  He  had  three  sons,  I  believe,  who  have  been  men  of  dis- 
itinction  in  the  community.  With  great  respect, 

Yours  truly, 

-  SAMUEL    SEWALL. 


CHARLES   STEARNS.  153 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  B.  WIGHT. 

Wa,yland,  Mass.,  May  24th,  18G4. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  You  ask  me  to  state  some  of  my  impressions  concernino' 
my  venerable  and  lamented  friend,  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Stearns  of  Lincoln. 

In  looking  back  from  forty  to  fifty  years,  he  rises  to  my  view  with  many 
pleasant  and  interesting  associations.  In  his  bodily  frame  he  was  large  and 
corpulent.  Ilis  features  were  regular  and  comely.  His  clear  black  eyes 
occasionally  sparkled  with  brightness.  His  habitual  demeanour  was  remark- 
abl}''  calm  and  tranquil.  His  voice  was  agreeable  and  his  utterance  deliberate 
and  impressive.  His  scholarship  was  uncommonly  good.  He  was  appointed 
to  a  Tutorship  at  Harvard,  on  leaving  which  he  received,  from  the  class  he 
had  instructed,  a  present  of  a  silver  tankard,  which  he  afterwards  consecrated 
to  a  religious  use  by  giving  it  a  place  on  the  Communion  table  of  his  church. 
His  mind  was  clear  and  logical.  His  habits  were  contemplative  and  studious. 
He  composed  good  sermons  with  fticility  and  felt  no  need  of  exchanges  as  a 
relief  from  his  labours  in  this  respect.  The  aged  members  of  his  Society  still 
speak  with  pleasant  remembrances  of  the  interest  and  benefits  of  his  official 
ministrations  and  his  social  intercourse  with  his  people.  The  period  in  which 
he  lived  was  not  a  time  of  the  awakened  zeal  and  strenuous  efforts  which  now 
distinguish  many  Congregational  clergymen  in  the  exercise  of  their  ministry. 
It  was  simply  his  aim  and  endeavour,  as  it  was  in  general  that  of  his  breth- 
ren around  him  and  throughout  the  country,  to  fulfil  with  acceptance  and 
spiritual  benefit  the  recognized  and  customary  duties  of  a  Christian  Pastor 
and  Teacher.  This  he  faithfully  and  diligently  accomplished  through  many 
years;  and  his  labours  were  not  in  vain.  Under  his  ministrations,  while,  as 
subsequent  years  have  manifested,  there  were  not  wanting  many  instances  of 
the  deeper  experiences  and  richer  fruits  of  religion,  the  people  generally,  as  a 
Religious  Society,  were  gradually  advancing  in  Christian  knowledge,  and 
civilization,  and  good  conduct,  and  attachment  to  the  institutions  of  religion; 
and  the  town  of  Lincoln,  which  constituted  the  parish  of  Dr.  Stearns,  then 
held,  and  still  holds,  a  high  character  among  the  most  respectable  and  im- 
proved country  towns. 

In  the  course  of  his  ministry  he  instituted  a  High  School  for  the  young, 
which  he  taught  with  much  popularity  and  success  for  several  yeai-s.  By 
this  means  he  contributed  much  to  the  greater  efficacy  of  his  religious 
ministrations,  as  he  thereby  surrounded  himself  with  a  rising  generation  of 
superior  intelligence  and  culture  and  peculiar  personal  attachments.  Hig 
professional  services  in  the  adjacent  parishes  were  always  highly  esteemed, 
and,  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  when  his  fine  countenance  was  lighted  up 
with  the  transfiguring  influences  of  his  increasing  faith  and  love,  his  appear- 
ance in  the  sanctuary  was  venerable  and  beautiful  in  a  very  remarkable  degree. 

Yours  with  best  regards, 

JOHN  B.  WIGHT. 


154  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

WILLIAM  BENTLEY,  D.  D.* 

1782—1819. 

"William  Bentley  was  a  son  of  Joshua  Bentloy,  a  ship  carpenter,  and 
was  born  in  Boston,  June  22,  1759.  His  great-grandfather  came  from 
Ent>-lund  in  the  expedition  against  Quebec,  in  which  he  perished,  leaving 
his  orphan  child,  the  grandfather  of  William  Bentley,  in  Boston.  He 
took  his  Christian  name  from  his  maternal  grandfather,  William  Paine, 
who,  being  a  man  of  property,  and  much  attached  to  this  grandson,  was  at 
the  principal  expense  of  his  education.  He  became  early  distinguished  for 
his  acquisitions  in  classical  and  general  literature.  He  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1777,  and  was  immediately  employed  as  an  assistant  in 
the  Boston  Latin  Grammar  School,  in  which  he  had  been  fitted  for  College. 
In  1779,  he  was  Preceptor  of  the  North  Grammar  School  in  Boston.  In 
1780,  he  was  appointed  Latin  and  Greek  Tutor  in  Harvard  College,  and 
held  the  office  until  1783,  devoting  a  portion  of  his  time  to  the  study  of 
Tlieology,  with  a  view  to  entering  the  ministry.  At  this  time,  he  formed 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  Albert  Gallatin,  who  was  instructor  in  the 
French  language  in  the  University. 

In  September,  1783,  Mr.  Bentley  was  ordained  as  Colleague  Pastor  with 
the  Ilcv.  James  Dimon,  over  the  East,  or  Second  formed,  Church  in  Salem. 
On  the  decease  of  his  colleague,  in  1788,  he  became  sole  Pastor,  and  con- 
tinued so  as  long  as  he  lived.  In  the  early  part  of  his  life,  he  is  said  to 
have  been  a  decided  and  earnest  Calvinist  ;  and,  while  he  was  in  College, 
was  associated  with  a  very  small  number  in  holding  private  religious  meet- 
ings, which  drew  upon  him  the  imputation,  from  many  of  his  fellow  stu- 
dents, of  being  righteous  over  much.  He  was  licensed  to  preach,  and 
occasionally  preached  in  different  places,  while  he  held  the  Tutorship ; 
and,  even  at  that  period,  he  is  said  to  have  been  regarded  as  a  Calvinist. 
Soon  after  his  settlement,  however,  he  seems  to  have  renounced  Calvinism  : 
and  both  he  and  his  college  classmate,  the  Eev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  James 
Freeman  of  Boston,  became  avowed  Unitarians. 

In  1794,  when  the  Salem  Gazette  was  published  by  William  Carlton, 
Mr.  Bentley  undertook  to  aid  him  in  his  enterprise  by  writing  a  summary 
of  news  for  his  paper ;  which  he  afterwards  continued  in  the  Register  as 
long  as  he  lived.  During  a  severe  illness  of  Mr.  Carlton,  Mr.  Bentley,  as 
an  act  of  friendship,  conducted  his  paper  for  him.  At  this  period,  he 
commenced  a  correspondence  with  Professor  Ebeling,  of  Hamburg,  who 
was  preparing  a  History  of  the  United  States.  The  Professor  was  in  want 
of  materials,  and  Mr.  Bentley  took  unwearied  pains  to  collect  and  forward 
them  to  him.  The  making  of  this  collection  is  said  to  have  first  suggested 
to  Mr.  Bentley  the  writing  of  the  summaries.  The  papers  received  in 
exchange  for  the  Gazette  and  Register  he  was  accustomed  to  pack,  and 
send  to  Professor  Ebeling,  and,  in  return,  he  received  valuable  German 

•  Salem  Gazette,  1819. — Ms.  from  Mr.  J.  E.  Sprague. — Communication  from  Mr.  Wm. 
Ropes. 


WILLIAM    BENTLEY.  155 

publications.  The  Professor  had  the  papers  bound,  and  they  form  quite 
an  interesting  portion  of  his  library,  which  Colonel  Israel  Thorndike  pur- 
chased in  1818,  and  presented  to  Harvard  College, 

Mr.  Bentley  was  once  elected  Chaplain  to  Congress,  but  he  declined  the 
honour.  In  1805,  he  was  virtually,  if  not  actually,  appointed  to  the  Pre- 
sidency of  the  College  established  by  Mr.  Jefferson  in  Virginia;  but  he 
declined  the  appointment,  observing  that  his  people  were  his  wife,  (they 
were  the  only  wife  he  ever  had,)  that  he  could  not  take  them  with  him, 
and  would  not  consent  to  a  divorce.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  members 
of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  and  commenced  the  History  of 
Salem  in  its  Collections,  but  was  prevented  from  completing  it  on  account 
of  some  dissatisfaction  with  the  publishing  committee.  In  1819,  he 
received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College. 

Dr.  Bentley's  parishioners,  being  many  of  them  seafaring  men,  and 
trading  to  all  parts  of  the  globe,  brougiit  home  to  him  various  curiosities 
from  different  countries,  which  formed  a  very  interesting  cabinet.  This 
he  gave  to  the  East  India  Marine  Society's  Museum  in  Salem, — a  Society 
in  which  he  took  an  early  and  deep  interest.  His  library,  which  was  one 
of  the  largest  private  libraries  in  the  country,  he  bequeathed  to  Mead- 
ville  College,  in  Pennsylvania,  and  to  the  American  Antiquarian  Society, 
at  Worcester. 

Dr.  Bentley  had,  for  many  years,  suffered  from  an  organic  disease  of 
the  heart.  Having  been  out  one  night  very  late,  on  a  visit  to  a  parish- 
ioner, who  had  just  returned  from  a  long-voyage,  he  hurried  home,  and,  as 
the  weather  was  intensely  cold,  he  stood  warming  himself  with  his  back  to 
the  Ore.  The  sudden  transition  from  cold  to  heat  caused  the  blood  to  flow 
to  his  head,  and  he  fell  dead  in  a  moment.  He  died  on  the  29th  of  De- 
cember, 1819,  aged  sixty-one  years.  His  Funeral  took  place  January  3, 
1820.  President  Kirkland  and  Dr.  Prince  prayed,  and  Edward  Everett, 
then  Professor  in  Harvard  College,  delivered  a  Funeral  Oration.  He  had 
been  a  zealous  Freemason,  and  was  buried  with  Masonic  honours. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Bentley's  publications  : — 

A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Stone  Chapel,  Boston,  1790.  A  Sermon 
delivered  at  Salem,  on  the  Death  of  Jonathan  Gardiner,  1791.  A  Collec- 
tion of  Psalms  and  Hymns,  1795.  A  Masonic  Discourse  delivered  at 
Boxbury,  1796.  The  Artillery  Election  Sermon,  1796.  A  Sermon  deliv- 
ered at  Salem  on  the  Death  of  General  John  Fiske,  1797.  A  Masonic 
Discourse  delivered  at  Amherst,  N.  H.,  1797.  A  Masonic  Charge  deliv- 
ered at  Worcester,  1798.  An  Address  before  the  Essex  Lodge,  delivered 
at  Salem,  1798.  Description  and  History  of  Salem,  published  in  the  sixth 
volume  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Collections,  1800.  A  Sermon 
delivered  at  the  Funeral  of  B.  Hodges,  1804.  A  Sermon  delivered  at 
the  Ordination  of  Joseph  Richardson,  at  Hingham,  1806.  A  Sermon 
delivered  before  the  Salem  Female  Charitable  Society,  1807.  A  Sermon 
delivered  before  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  on  the  occasion  of  the 
General  Election,  1807. 


156  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  HON.  JOSEPH  E.  SPRAGUE. 

Salem,    Mass.,  November  20,  1851. 

My  dear  Sir:  If  I  do  not  succeed  in  giving  you  a  correct  idea  of  the  char- 
acter of  Dr.  Bentley,  it  surely  will  not  be  for  the  want  of  sufficient  opportu- 
nities of  knowing  him.  He  was  one  of  the  three  Unitarian  ministers  in  this 
town,  and,  for  many  years  was  in  the  habit  of  frequently  exchanging  with 
my  minister.  Dr.  Prince.  He  had  two  or  three  pupils,  one  of  whom  was  my 
eldest  brother,  who  was  also  a  member  of  his  church.  He  was  a  zealous 
politician,  and  belonged,  in  high  party  times,  to  the  same  party  with  myself. 
We  served  together  several  years  on  the  school  committee,  and  were,  for  a 
long  time,  the  two  principal  writers  in  the  same  newspaper. 

In  stature  Dr.  Bentley  was  below  the  middle  size, — thickly  set,  weighing, 
at  the  age  of  fifty-two,  two  hundred  and  fourteen  pounds.  He  took  a  great 
deal  of  exercise,  walking  several  miles  daily,  without  regard  to  the  w^eather. 
There  was  a  pile  of  stones  on  the  Salem  Neck,  which  was  one  of  the  limits  of 
his  walks,  and  was  hence  called  "  The  Bentley  Monument."  He  retired  early, 
and  uniformly  rose  an  hour  or  two  before  the  sun.  He  never  guarded  his  feet 
against  the  wet,  but  perforated  the  sides  of  his  shoes,  as  the  most  effectual 
security  against  taking  cold.  He  had  no  chair  in  his  study,  but  always  wrote 
in  a  standing  posture.  His  food,  when  he  was  at  home,  was  uniform  and  very 
simple.  He  was  sensible,  for  many  years,  that  he  had  an  organic  disease  of 
the  heart,  and  supposed  that  his  death  would  probably  occur  suddenly. 

That  Dr.  Bentley  was  a  man  of  extensive  and  varied  learning,  and  of  immense 
industry,  no  one  who  knew  him  ever  doubted.  He  is  said  to  have  written 
•  thirty-three  hundred  sermons,  and  fifty-six  volumes  of  other  manuscripts, 
many  of  them  of  large  size.  In  ^lis  diary,  he  noted  every  thing  that  came 
to  his  knowledge,  including  his  observations  on  Philosophy,  Theology, 
Astronomy,  Meteorology,  and  other  branches  of  science,  which  were  then 
quite  in  their  infancy.  He  was  reputed  to  have  understood  twenty-one  lan- 
guages. He  corresponded  in  Arabic,  through  the  shipmasters  in  his  parish, 
with  some  of  the  petty  chiefs  in  Arabia  and  Eastern  Africa.  The  Govern- 
ment, in  one  or  two  instances,  put  in  requisition  his  knowledge  of  the  Orien- 
tal languages,  for  translating  the  credentials  of  an  Eastern  Ambassador. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Bentley  may  be  said  to  have  been  unique — he  certainly 
possessed  a  volubility,  a  sort  of  eloquence,  that  I  am  sure  you  Avould  not  hear 
from  any  other  person;  but  there  was  a  great  lack  of  clearness  in  his  style, 
and  I  am  constrained  to  saj"-,  of  reverence  also,  in  his  manner.  He  delighted 
in  preaching  upon  odd  texts,  and  upon  special  occasions;  and  no  event  could 
occur,  of  the  least  moment,  private  or  public,  but  that  he  was  sure  to  make 
it  the  subject  of  a  discourse,  and  he  would  generally  find  a  text  that  seemed 
exactly  suited  to  it.  "When  the  news  came  that  the  embaigo  was  raised,  pre- 
vious to  our  last  war  with  Great  Britain,  he  arose  and  looked  round  upon  his 
audience  and  announced  his  text  thus, — "  There  go  the  ships."  It  is  but  fair 
to  say  that  his  preaching  was  generally  considered,  even  by  his  own  denomi- 
nation, as  less  serious  and  scriptural  than  could  have  been  desired.  In  his 
religious  opinions  he  was  generally  regarded  as  a  Humanitarian.  After  his 
very  respectable  successor.  Dr.  Flint,  was  settled  in  his  place,  he  preached  a 
sermon  on  the  importance  of  Family  Prayer,  and  I  remember  to  have  been 
amused  at  hearing  a  person  who  had  been  trained  under  Dr.  Bentley's  more 
liberal  ministrations,  denounce  it  as  Calvinism. 

In  his  politics.  Dr.  Bentley  was  an  ardent  Republican,  of  the  Jefferson  and 
Madison  school.  During  the  war,  he,  with  the  Universalist  clergyman,  and 
three  lawyers,  joined  a  voluntary  company,  all  the  other  members  of  which 
were  sailors.  In  the  summer  of  1814,  the  Constitution  frigate, Co'mmodore 
Stewart,  was  chased   into  Marblehead,   by  a   British  squadron,  on  Sunday 


ELIPHALET    PORTER.  157 

afternoon.  It  was  just  at  the  commencement  of  the  afternoon  service.  Ob- 
serving a  movement  amongst  his  people,  and  learning  what  was  taking  place, 
he  announced  the  fact  from  the  pulpit,  and  said  that  the  best  service  for  the 
afternoon  was  to  defend  the  Constitution;  and  immediately  dismissed  his  peo- 
ple, joined  his  company,  and  marched  to  Marblehead. 

Dr.  Bentley  was  exceedingly  talkative,  full  of  amusing  anecdote,  and  impa- 
tient of  opposition  in  any  thing.  He  was  Chairman  of  the  School  Commit- 
tee; and  there  was  no  getting  on  with  business,  without  interrupting  him, 
sometimes  almost  rudely,  as  his  anecdotes  about  the  Boston  schools  would 
have  otherwise  engrossed  the  whole  time.  On  the  Fourth  of  July,  1810,  both 
political  parties  having  engaged  the  same  band  of  music,  the  committee,  to 
meet  this  contingency,  wished  to  hasten  some  of  their  exercises,  and  requested 
Dr.  Bentley  to  oiler  a  short  prayer.  He  was  so  offended  at  what  he  deemed 
an  impertinent  interference,  that  he  prayed  nearly  an  hour — the  consequence 
of  which  was  that  the  band  were  obliged  to  leave  the  house  before  the  Ora- 
tion was  finished.  On  the  Fourth  of  July,  1812,  the  committee  Avished  to 
substitute  for  the  reading  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  reading  of 
certain  parts  of  Mr.  Madison's  Manifesto,  or  the  Declaration  of  AVar.  Tliey 
requested  me  to  select  the  parts  to  be  read,  and  to  mark  them.  This  I  did; 
and  mentioned  the  wishes  of  the  committee  as  delicately  as  I  could  to  Dr. 
Bentley.  He  utterly  refused  to  comply  with  the  request,  and  declared,  with 
much  spirit,  that  he  was.  not  to  be  dictated  to  as  a  school-boy.  I  mention 
these  incidents — certainly  of  no  great  importance  in  themselves — to  illustrate 
a  trait  of  Dr.  Bentley 's  character,  Mhich  was  so  prominent  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  omit  it,  and  give  any  just  idea  of  the  man. 

Dr.  Bentley,  though  eccentric,  and,  as  a  minister,  not  without  great  faults, 
had  some  fine  social  and  moral  qualities,  which  it  is  pleasant  to  contemplate. 
He  was  distinguished  for  his  benevolence.  lie  had  an  eye  to  the  temporal 
wants  of  his  people,  a  heart  that  was  quick  to  feel,  and  a  hand  that  was  ready 
to  move  for  the  bestowment  of  generous  benefactions.  He  had  great  influence 
with  his  congregation,  and,  as  it  cost  him  no  effort  to  express  his  wishes,  it 
seemed  to  cost  them  no  sacrifice  to  comply  with  them.  His  zeal  in  politics, 
connected  perhaps  with  some  other  circumstances,  had  pretty  nearly  put  an 
end  to  exchanges  between  him  and  the  other  ministers  of  the  town  some  time 
before  his  death — still  I  believe  his  brethren  were  always  ready  to  acknowl- 
edge his  good  qualities,  and  the  whole  community  regarded  him  as  an  extra- 
ordinary man.  I  might  enlarge  much  upon  Dr.  Bentley's  character,  but  what 
I  have  written  may  perhaps  suffice  for  your  purpose. 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  faithfully  yours, 

JOSEPH   E.   SPRAGUE. 


ELIPHALET  PORTER.  D.  D* 

1782—1833. 

Elpihalet  Porter  was  born  in  what  is  now  called  North  Bridge- 
water,  Mass.,  June  11,  1758.  He  was  a  son  of  the  Rev.  John  Porter, 
a  native  of  Abington,  who  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1736, 
was  ordained  at  North  Bridgewater  in  1740,  and  died  in  1802,  at  the  age 
of  eighty-seven.     He  (the  father)  was,  in  his  religious  views,  a  decided 

•  Dr.  Putnam's  Fun.  Serm.     Ms.  from  Dr.  Pierce. 


158  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Calvinist,  and  one  or  two  controversial  pamphlets  of  his  remain,  to  show 
with  what  tenacity  he  held  that  system  of  doctrine,  and  with  what  earnest- 
ness he  defended  it. 

The  son  entered  Harvard  College  in  1773,  and  was  graduated  in  1777, 
the  youngest  of  three  brothers  in  the  same  chiss.  He  held  a  highly  respect- 
able rank  as  a  scholar,  and  was  distinguished  by  the  sobriety  and  correct- 
ness of  his  habits.  His  theological  studies  he  prosecuted  under  the 
direction  of  his  father.  The  First  Church  in  Roxbury  had  been  vacant 
from  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Amos  Adams,*  in  1775,  for  seven  years;  and, 
having  heard  various  candidates,  they  finally,  in  1782,  extended  a  nearly 
unanimous  call  to  Mr.  Porter,  of  which,  in  due  time,  he  signified  his 
acceptance.  He  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  church,  October  2,  1782,  the 
Sermon  being  preached  by  his  venerable  father,  and  the  Charge  delivered 
by  Dr.  Samuel  Cooper  of  Boston. 

In  October,  1801,  he  was  married  to  Martha,  daughter  of  Major  Nathan, 
iel  Ruggles  of  Roxbury.     She  died  without  issue,  in  December,  1814. 

In  1807,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

In  1810,  Dr.  Porter  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  at  the  Convention  of 
the  Congregational  Ministers  of  Massachusetts  ;  and  this  perhaps  may  be 
considered  the  most  prominent  event  of  his  life.  The  controversy  between 
the  two  parties,  known  as  the  "  orthodox  "  and  the  "  liberal,"  was  really 
at  that  time  no  new  thing ;  but,  so  far  as  the  latter  class  at  least  were 
concerned,  it  had  rarely,  if  ever,  been  introduced  into  the  pulpit,  especially 
on  any  great  public  occasion.  Dr.  Porter,  on  the  occasion  referred  to, 
stepped  aside  from  the  course  of  his  predecessors,  and,  without  making  any 
very  distinct  statement  of  his  own  views,  brought  out  a  bold  and  earnest  de- 
fence of  some  of  the  general  principles  for  which  the  liberal  party  were  con- 
tending. The  Sermon  produced  great  excitement  at  the  time,  and  it  has 
been  acknowledged,  by  those  who  disliked  as  well  as  those  who  liked  it,  to 
be  the  ablest  of  Dr.  Porter's  printed  productions.  It  is  important  now, 
chiefly  as  having  marked  a  sort  of  epoch  in  the  controversy,  and  as  indiea- 
ting  the  then  existing  state  of  theological  opinion. 

The  subject  of  the  Discourse  was  "  the  Simplicity  that  is  in  Christ,  and 
the  Danger  of  its  being  corrupted."  Its  general  spirit  and  character  may 
be  sufficiently  indicated  by  the  following  extract : — 

*  Amos  Adams  was  born  at  Medfield,  September  1,  1728;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege in  1752;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Roxbury,  September 
12,  1753;  and  died  October  6,  1775,  aged  forty-eight.  He  published  the  Massachusetts 
Election  Sermon,  1759;  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon  on  the  Reduction  of  Quebec,  1769;  a  Ser- 
mon at  the  Ordination  of  John  ^Vyeth  [who  was  born  at  Cambridge;  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  17G0;  was  ordained  at  Gloucester,  Februarys,  17(56;  was  dismissed  in 
1768;  and  died  February  2,  1811;  aged  sixty-eight;]  a  Sermon  preached  at  Roxburj',  1767; 
Two  Thanksgiving  Discourses  on  Religious  Liberty,  1767;  Two  Fast  Discourses,  1769;  a 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Caleb  Prentice,  [who  was  born  at  Cambridge,  November  25, 
1746;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1765:  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the 
Church  in  Reading,  October  25,  1769,  and  died  February  7,  1803,  aged  fifty-six.  He  be- 
longed to  the  class  who  were  called  "Moderate  Calvinists,"  difl'ering,  however,  very  little, 
if  at  all,  from  Arminians.  In  the  War  of  the  Revolution  he  was  a  most  earnest  patriot,  and 
in  more  than  one  instance  shouldered  his  musket  to  meet  the  enemy.  He  was  greatly 
respected,  not  only  in  his  own  parish,  but  throughout  the  region  in  which  he  lived.  He  was 
married  to  the  eldest  dauglitcr  of  the  Rev.  John  Mcllen,  of  ^Vest  Lancaster  (now  Sterling), 
and  had  thirteen  children, —  one  of  whom  (Charles)  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1795,  and  died  in  1820;  and  another  (John)  has,  for  many  years,  been  well  known  as  the 
editor  of  a  newspaper  in  Kcene,  N.  H.,  and  still  survives  (1862)  at  an  advanced  age.] 


ELIPHALET    PORTER.  159 

"  But  it  will  be  asked  if  the  simple  proposition  which  has  been  mentioned" — [Jesus 
of  Mazareth  is  the  Christ]  '•  is  all  that  we  have  to  demand  in  the  way  of  Gospel  belief. 
What  are  we  to  think  of  those  articles  of  faith  which  have  been  long  received  in  the 
Church,  and  considered,  perhaps  generally,  as  fundamentals,  andessential  to  be  believed? 
AV^hat  are. we  to  think,  not  of  those  doctrines  which  have  been  exploded  by  Protestants, 
and  which  have  had,  and  now  have,  their  turn  of  being  viewed  as  essential,  more 
extensively  than  any  others;  but  of  those  disputed  articles  of  faith  which  have  been 
retained  or  taught  and  recjuired  in  the  Catechisms  and  Confessions  of  Protestant  and 
Reformed  Churches,  and  in  particular  among  ourselves?  Or,  to  be  more  exi)licit  still, 
for  1  wish  to  be  understood, —  what  are  we  to  think  of  the  doctrines  of  original  sin  and 
total  depravity;  of  imputation  of  sin  and  righteousness:  of  a  trinity  in  unity;  of  the 
mere  humanity,  superangelical  nature,  or  absolute  Deity  of  Christ;  of  particular  and 
general  redi'mption;  of  unconditional  decrees  of  personal  election  and  reprobation;  of 
moral  inability,  and  the  toial  passiveness  of  man  in  regeneration;  of  tlie  special  and 
irresistible  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit;  of  perseverance,  or  the  impossibility  of  the 
believer's  total  apostacy ;  and,  to  mention  no  more,  the  absolute  eternity  of  the  tor- 
ments to  which  the  wicked  will  be  sentenced  at  the  last  day. 

"  My  individual  belief,  in  respect  to  the  truth  or  error  of  these  points,  can  be  of  but 
little  importance,  and  my  subject  no  way  requires  that  it  should  be  given.  It  rather 
becomes  me  to  follow  the  example  which  has  been  sometimes  set  by  learned  judges  on 
the  bench,  when  difficult  questions  suggested  themselves,  but  whose  decision  the  main 
subject  before  them  did  not  recpiire;  and  prudently  say, — Neque  teneo,  neque  refello. 
But  it  is  pertinent  to  the  object  of  this  discourse,  and  consonant  to  my  serious  and 
deliberate  conviction,  to  observe  that  I  cannot  place  my  linger  on  any  one  article  in 
the  list  of  doctrines  just  mentioned,  the  belief  or  the  rejection  of  which  I  consider  as 
essential  to  the  Christian  faith  or  character.  I  believe  that  an  innumerable  company 
of  Christians  who  never  heard  of  these  articles,  or  who  were  divided  in  their  opinions 
respecting  them,  have  t'allen  asleep  in  Jesus;  and  that  innumerable  of  the  same 
description  are  following  after." 

Dr,  Porter's  life,  like  that  of  most  parish  ministers,  was  marked  by  little 
variety.  He  continued  his  stated  labours  without  much  interruption  till  he 
was  past  seventy,  when  it  became  apparent  to  both  himself  and  others  that 
his  strength  was  inadequate  to  the  full  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his  office. 
Accordingly,  it  was  agreed  that  he  should  have  a  colleague ;  and  Mr. 
George  Putnam  was  called  and  settled,  with  his  hearty  consent  and  appro- 
bation. The  relations  which  existed  between  the  Senior  and  Junior  Pastors 
were  mutually  kind  and  agreeable,  and  when  the  former  died,  the  latter,  iu 
a  Funeral  Discourse,  rendered  a  warm  and  grateful  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  his  venerated  friend. 

On  the  7th  of  October,  1832,  the  Sabbath  next  succeeding  the  comple- 
tion of  fifty  years  of  his  ministry,  Dr.  Porter  preached  a  Sermon  containing 
some  historical  sketches  of  his  parish,  and  particularly  a  review  of  his  own 
ministerial  labours.     Having  referred  to  his  Ordination,  he  says  : — 

"  The  solemn  transactions  of  that  day  were  adapted  to  excite  reflection,  lead  to 
resolutions,  and  make  impressions  on  the  mind,  which  half  a  century  ought  not,  and, 
as  the  speaker  trusts,  has  not,  wholly  elfaced  from  his  mind.  But  he  laments  that  they 
have  not  had  a  more  constant,  powerful  and  salutary  effect  on  his  life  and  labours. 
He  laments  that  he  has  not  better  fullilled  the  ministry  he  received  of  the  Lord,  and 
better  performed  his  vows.  A  sense  of  his  many  neglects  and  defects  in  duty,  he  can 
truly  say,  is  the  greatest  burden  of  his  life;  and  he  would  this  day  humble  himself 
before  God.  and  in  the  presence  of  tiie  great  congregation,  for  his  want  of  greater  dili- 
gence and  activity,  constancy,  faithfulness,  and  zeal,  in  the  discharge  of  the  work  given 
him  to  do." 

Dr.  Porter's  health  had  been  gradually  sinking  for  three  or  four  years 
previous  to  his  death,  though  he  died  at  last  from  an  attack  of  pneu- 
monia. His  sufferings,  during  his  last  illness,  were  sometimes  very  severe, 
but  were  endured  with  a  patient  and  uncomplaining  spirit.  His  death 
occurred  on  Saturday,  7th  of  December,  1833,  and  his  Funeral  was  attended 
on  the  succeeding  Wednesday,  by  a  large  concourse.  The  Sermon,  by  his 
surviving  colleague,  was  from  Genesis  xxv,  8,  and  was  published. 


160  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Dr.  Porter  lield  several  important  public  trusts.  He  was  a  member  of 
the  board  of  Overseers  of  Harvard  University,  and,  from  1818  till  bis 
death,  a  member  of  the  Corporation.  He  was  Treasurer  for  many  years 
of  the  Massachusetts  Congregational  Charitable  Society  ;  was  an  original 
Trustee  of  the  Massachusetts  Bible  Society  ;  and  was  among  the  founders 
of  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance. 

The  fuUowing  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Porter's  publications : — 

A  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  preached  at  Iloxbury,  1783.  A  Discourse 
delivered  before  the  Roxbury  Charitable  Society,  1794.  A  Discourse 
delivered  at  Brookline  and  Iloxbury  on  the  National  Fast,  1798.  A  Ser- 
mon on  the  Death  of  Grovcrnor  Sumner,  1799.  A  Eulogy  on  George 
Washington,  1800.  A  Discourse  before  the  Humane  Society,  Boston,  1802. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Charles  Lowell,  180G.  A  Sermon  before 
the  Society  for  Propagating  tlie  Gospel  among  the  Indians  and  others  in 
North  America,  1807.  A  Sermon  before  the  Massachusetts  Convention  of 
Ministers,  1810.  An  Artillery  Election  Sermon,  1812.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  John  G.  Palfrey,  1818. 

I  met  Dr.  Porter,  once  or  twice,  in  the  early  part  of  my  life,  but  the 
most  that  I  remember  concerning  him  then  is  a  staid  manner,  a  dignity  and 
gravity,  ill-adapted  to  put  a  boy  at  his  ease.  I  saw  hira  at  a  later  period, 
when  he  was  much  more  accessible  and  cordial,  showing  a  rich  vein  of  good 
sense,  but  without  any  excess  of  vivacity.  The  movements  of  both  his 
body  and  his  mind  seemed  marked  by  great  deliberation. 

FROM  THE   REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

'  Brookline,  February  6,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  The  Rev.  Dr.  Porter,  of  Roxbury,  concerning  whom  you 
inquire,  was  my  intimate  friend,  and,  during  much  the  greater  part  of  my 
ministry,  one  of  my  nearest  clerical  neighbours.  It  costs  me  no  effort,  there- 
fore, to  comply  with  your  request  in  giving  you  my  impressions  of  his  char- 
acter. 

As  to  his  person,  he  was  not  above  the  common  stature,  and  in  his  figure 
was  erect  and  well-proportioned.  His  hair,  which  was  of  chestnut  colour, 
scarcely  underwent  any  perceptible  change  till  the  time  of  his  death.  He  was 
a  remarkable  instance  of  unfailing  eyesight — neither  he  nor  his  father  before 
him  ever  used  glasses. 

The  predominating  characteristic  of  his  mind  was  a  sound  judgment.  He 
always  came  to  his  conclusions  cautiously,  and  seldom  had  occasion  subse- 
quently to  alter  them.  He  had  what  is  usually  called  a  discriminating  mind — 
he  readily  discussed  minute  points  of  difference,  and  sometimes  evinced  no 
inconsiderable  skill  in  the  management  of  subtle  and  knotty  questions.  He 
had  little  or  no  imagination  and  pretended  to  none.  But  he  was  distinguish- 
ed for  his  sober  and  correct  estimate  of  things,  generally  saying  the  right 
thing,  in  the  right  manner,  and  at  the  right  time.  So  remarkable  was  he  for 
discretion  in  his  social  intercourse  that  it  has  been  said  of  him  that,  if  his 
most  intimate  associates  were  to  become  his  bitterest  enemies,  they  would 
find  it  difficult  to  use  even  his  most  confidential  communications  to  his  dis- 
advantage. In  mixed  company  he  was  generally  very  taciturn  ;  but,  among 
his  intimate  friends,  he  was  a  cheerful  and  agreeable  companion. 

Dr.  Porter  could,  by  no  means,  be  ranked  among  the  popular  preachers  of 
his  day.  His  manner  was  entirely  simple  and  unadorned,  and  his  matter, 
though  well  digested,  and  always  indicating  thought  and  study,  was  destitute 


ELIPHALET    PORTER.  161 

of  those  striking  qualities  that  usually  render  a  preacher  attractive.  His 
discourses  were  the  product  of  labour  rather  than  excitement;  and  they  were 
addressed  rather  to  the  understanding  than  the  affections.  The  late  Judge 
Lowell,  who  was  long  one  of  Dr.  Porter's  constant  hearers,  is  said  to  have 
remarked  tliat  of  all  the  preachers  whom  he  was  accustomed  to  hear,  there 
was  no  one  who  furnished  more  food  to  his  intellect  than  his  own  Pastor. 
But,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  with  tlie  mass  of  hearers  he  could  not  be 
regarded  as  a  favourite. 

Being  naturally  of  a  reserved  habit,  his  intercourse  with  his  people  was 
less  frequent  and  less  free  than  some  of  them  would  have  wished;  but  1  believe 
he  was  never  lacking  in  due  attention  to  the  sick  and  afflicted.  His  general 
gravity  and  dignity  of  deportment  always  secured  the  respect,  not  only  of  his 
own  people,  but  of  the  community  at  large. 

Of  Dr.  Porter's  religious  opinions  I  need  say  little,  as  they  are  perhaps 
sufficiently  indicated  by  his  Convention  Sermon,  which  had  considerable 
celebrity  in  its  day.  I  ma}- just  remark,  however,  that  he  was  educated  a 
Calvinist,  but  gradually  departed  from  that  form  of  doctrine,  till  he  settled 
down,  as  I  have  reason  to  believe,  on  Arian  ground.  He  was  strongly 
opposed  to  Creeds  and  Confessions  as  a  basis  of  Church  Communion,  and 
insisted  that  all  should  meet  on  the  common  platform  of  the  Bible. 

Dr.  Porter  evinced  great  wisdom  in  the  management  of  his  worldly  concerns. 
Indeed,  so  exact  was  he  that  he  did  not  always  escape  the  suspicion  of  an 
undue  regard  to  his  own  interest.  But  it  was  not  true,  after  all,  that  he  was 
a  seltish  man —  on  the  contrary,  he  was  distinguished  for  his  generosity  to 
the  poor;  and  his  hand  Avas  always  open  to  every  object  that  he  consideied  a 
deserving  one. 

I  must  not  omit  to  say  that  Dr.  Porter  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
the  State  and  the  Nation,  and  sometimes  spoke  out  his  political  sentiments- 
with  considerable  freedom.  Several  times  he  showed  that  his  prudence  was. 
not  timidity,  by  expressing  views  in  the  pulpit,  which  brought  him  in  conflict 
with  some  leading  individuals  of  his  parish.  Some  temporary  coolness,  if 
not  alienation,  grew  out  of  his  fearlessness  in  this  respect,  but  I  believe  that  it 
had  nearly  all  ceased  before  those  in  whom  it  had  appeared  went  to  theic 
graves.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

faithfully  yours, 

JOHN  PIERCE.- 

FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  LOWELL,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  February  11.  1853... 

My  dear  Friend  :  My  recollections  of  Dr.  Porter  are  of  course  very  distinct,. 
as  I  scarcely  remember  the  time  when  his  face  was  not  familiar  to  me.  He- 
was  the  minister  of  my  childhood  at  Roxbury.  I  attended  his  catechising, 
which  was  held  once  a  year.  We  recited  the  Assembly's  Catechism.  After 
I  had  entered  the  ministry,  and  was  a  member  of  the  same  Association  with, 
the  Doctor,  I  asked  him  whether  he  really  wished  to  indoctrinate  the  children. 
in  Calvinism.  "Oh!"  said  he,  "I  did  not  think  you  would  understand, 
enough  to  do  you  any  harm,"  or  something  like  that.  He  preached  mj' 
Ordination  Sermon  and  was  my  friend  as  long  as  he  lived. 

Dr.  Porter  was  usually  taciturn  when  I  knew  him  in  Roxbury.  I  remem- 
ber it  was  a  subject  of  great  solicitude  with  my  sisters,  how  they  should 
entertain  him,  when  he  made  a  visit  at  our  house.  When  I  knew  him  as  a, 
brother  minister,  he  bore  his  full  part  in  conversation.  He  was  a  man  of 
good  sense  and  good  judgment,  and,  in  addition  to  this,  he  had  a  good  deal  of 
what  is  termed  dry  wit  or  humour,  though  he  looked   so  sedate,   not   to  say; 

Vol.  VIII.  11 


162  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

grave;  and  he  had  great  shrewdness  and  adroitness  in  parrying  a  pleasant 
thrust  at  him.  I  should  be  glad  to  put  down  many  of  his  good  sayings,  if  I 
had  time  and  strength  to  task  my  memory  for  them.  I  recall  at  this 
moment  but  two  or  three. 

He  and  I  were  talking  one  day  together  about  the  Medical  Faculty.  Both 
of  us  had  and  expressed  a  high  respect  for  physicians.  lie  was  led,  however, 
in  the  course  of  conversation,  to  some  expressions  that  seemed,  in  a  measure, 
to  qualif}^  his  praise.  I  referred  to  the  Scripture  as  speaking  of  the  profes- 
sion with  commendation,  and  I  quoted, — '<  Honour  a  physician,"  &c.  <«  Oh!  " 
said  he,  "  That  is  in  the  Apocrypha.  I  do  not  remember  just  now  any  thing 
the  Bible  has  said  about  them,  except  in  reference  to  the  woman,  who  was 
vexed  with  many  physicians  and  grew  nothing  bettor,  but  rather  worse." 

He  was  on  a  visit  to  one  of  his  parishioners  one  afternoon,  where  there  was 
a  little  party  of  young  people.  The  lady  of  the  house  told  the  Doctor,  hesita- 
tingly, that  the  young  folks  would  be  glad  to  have  a  little  dance  with  the  aid 
of  the  pianoforte,  but  were  afraid  to  do  it  lest  he  should  be  offended.  <«  Oh 
no,"  said  he  "  let  them  dance,  only  I  hope  they  will  excuse  me,  as  I  have 
my  boots  on." 

He  was  very  happy  in  his  choice  of  texts  for  occasional  sermons.  By  the  text 
■which  he  selected  after  the  death  of  two  of  the  sons  of  a  very  respectable 
parishioner,  he  converted  the  old  gentleman  into  a  firm  friend,  although  he 
had  opposed  his  settlement,  and  was  still  unreconciled  to  it.  This  gentleman 
had  several  sons  settled  in  Baltimore  —  namely,  Joseph,  Simeon,  Benjamin, 
&c.,  Joseph  and  Simeon  died,  and  Benjamin  was  taken  very  ill.  The  Doctor 
took  for  the  text  of  a  consolatory  sermon, — "  Joseph  is  not,  and  Simeon  is 
not,  and  ye  will  take  Benjamin  away!"  The  old  man's  heart  at  once  warm- 
ed towards  his  minister;  and  when  the  Doctor  shortly  after  went  to  see  him, 
he  greeted  him  most  cordially. 

If  these  anecdotes  will  serve,  in  any  degree,  to  illustrate  the  character  of 
ni}'^  friend,  I  shall  be  glad  that  they  happened  to  occur  to  me. 

Affectionately  Yours, 

CHARLES  LOWELL. 


JAMES  FREEMAN,  D.  D. 

1782—1835. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JAMES  FREEMAN  CLARKE,  D.  D. 

Boston,  Septembei-  14,  1850. 

Dear  Sir:  In  complying  with  your  request  to  furnish  you  with  a  Memoir 
of  the  late  Eev.  James  Freeman,  D.  D.,  of  Boston,  I  anticipate  some  diffi- 
culty from  the  very  nearness  of  the  object  I  am  called  to  describe.  One 
living  within  the  shadow  of  a  mountain  cannot  draw  its  outline  as  well  as 
another  at  a  greater  distance.  I  may  experience  a  like  embarrassment, 
since  my  boyhood  and  youth  were  passed  within  tlie  near  influence  of  Dr. 
Freeman's  mind.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  write 
.about  him,  and,  making  use,  as  I  shall,  of  the  notices  and  reminiscences 
•of  others,  I  hope  to  give  a  correct  statement  of  the  events  of  his  life,  and 
a  sufficiently  just  estimate  of  his  character  and  influence. 

Dr.  Freeman  is  known  to  the  religious  public  as  the  first  avowed  Preacher 
of  Unitarianism  in  the  United  States;  he  is  reniembered  by  the  people  of 


JAMES   FREEMAN.  163 

Boston  as  one,  who,  for  fifty  years,  was  identified  with  all  the  best  interests 
of  that  community  —  though  never  ambitious  of  literary  distinction,  his 
writings  occupy  an  important  place  in  the  literature  of  the  country,  both 
for  justness  of  thought  and  purity  of  expression.  But  the  friends  of  Dr. 
Freeman  forget  all  these  things  in  remembering  his  personal  qualities. 
They  recall  him  as  the  playfellow  of  children,  the  friend  and  counsellor  of 
youth,  the  charming  companion  in  social  intercourse,  whose  happy  sen- 
tences were  always  freighted  at  once  with  wit  and  wisdom,  and  in  whose 
character  were  beautifully  blended  the  most  austere  uprightness  and  the 
most  generous  sympathy.  As,  however,  I  cannot  speak  of  these  things 
without  appearing  to  the  public  to  exaggerate,  and  to  his  friends  to  under- 
state, his  peculiar  excellence,  I  shall  rather  dwell  on  the  outward  events 
of  his  life,  adding,  at  the  close,  some  traits  illustrative  of  his  private 
character. 

The  first  ancestor  of  Dr.  Freeman  who  came  to  this  country  was  Samuel 
Freeman^  who  was  proprietor  of  the  eighth  part  of  Watertown,  Mass.,  a 
town  settled  in  1630.  His  son  Samuel,  went  to  Eastham,  on  Cape  Cod, 
with  his  father-in-law,  Thomas  Prince,  Governor  of  Plymouth.  He  inher- 
ited his  father-in-law's  estate  in  Eastham,  and  the  family  remained  on  Cape 
Cod  till  Constant  Freeman,  the  father  of  the  subject  of  this  notice, 
removed  to  Charlestown,  Mass.,  about  1755.  James  Freeman  was  born 
in  Charlestown,  April  22,  1759.  But  his  father  moving  to  Boston  soon 
after,  he  was  sent  to  the  public  Latin  School  in  that  city,  then  under  the 
care  of  jMaster  Lovell,  a  somewhat  famous  teacher  in  his  day.  He  entered 
the  school  in  1766,  being  seven  years  old,  which  was  at  that  time  the 
usual  age  fixed  for  admission.  Among  his  classmates  were  the  late  Judge 
Dawes,  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts,  Rev.  Jonathan  Homer, 
D.  D.,  of  Newton,  Admiral  Sir  Isaac  Coffin,  of  the  British  Navy,  and  Sir 
Bernard  Morland,  afterward  a  member  of  the  British  Parliament.  When 
his  friend.  Dr.  Homer,  used  to  speak  of  the  great  men  who  belonged  to 
their  class  in  the  Latin  School,  Dr.  Freeman  would  sometimes  add,— r 
"  But,  Ikother  Homer,  you  forget  our  classmate  who  was  hanged."  The 
name  of  this  unfortunate  member  of  the  class  cannot  now  be  supplied. 

James  Freeman  entered  Harvard  College  in  1773,  and  was  graduated  in 
1777,  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  Among  his  classmates,  were  Dr.  Bentley 
and  E-ufns  King.  The  American  Revolution  dispersed  the  College,  and 
interrupted  for  a  time  his  studies.  But  he  must  have  laid  the  foundation 
of  good  scholarship  there.  In  after  years,  he  was  an  excellent  Latin 
scholar,  a  good  mathematician,  and  read  with  ease  the  French,  Italian, 
Spanish  and  Portuguese  languages.  In  the  latter  languages,  I  recollect 
his  reading  for  amusement,  at  the  close  of  his  life,  the  works  of  Father 
Feyjoo  and  Father  Vicira.  It  was  his  custom  to  spend  an  hour  after  din- 
ner with  his  slate  and  pencil,  working  out  some  mathematical  problem. 
With  the  writings  of  Cicero,  Tacitus,  Lucretius,  and  other  Latin  authors, 
he  was  thoroughly  acquainted.  Though  he  always  spoke  lightly  of  his  own 
learning,  he  was  far  more  of  a  scholar  than  many  men  of  greater  pre- 
tensions. 

After  leaving  College,  Mr.  Freeman  went  to  Cape  Cod,  to  visit  his  rela- 
tives there,  and,  as  he  strongly  sympathized  with  the  Revolutionary  move- 


164  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

nient,  he  engaged  in  disciplining  a  company  of  men,  who  were  about  to 
join  the  Colonial  troops.  In  1780,  he  sailed  to  Quebec,  in  a  small  vessel, 
bearing  a  cartel,  with  his  sister,  to  place  her  with  her  father,  who  was  then 
in  tliat  city.  On  his  passage,  he  was  captured  by  a  privateer,  and  was 
detained  at  Quebec  after  his  arrival,  in  a  prison-ship,  and  as  a  prisoner  on 
parole.  He  did  not  leave  Quebec  till  June,  1782,  when  he  sailed  again 
for  Boston,  arriving  there  about  the  1st  of  August.  Being  a  candidate  for 
the  ministry,  he  preached  in  several  places,  and  was  invited,  in  September, 
to  officiate  as  Reader  at  tht  King's  Chapel,  in  Boston,  for  a  term  of  six 
months. 

The  King's  Chapel  was  originally  an  Episcopal  Church.  It  was  founded 
in  1686,  and  a  wooden  ediflce  for  public  worship  was  built  in  1690.  It 
was  the  first  Episcopal  Church  in  New  England.  The  present  building, 
which  is  of  stone,  and  which  is  still  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  Church 
architecture  in  New  England,  was  erected  about  one  hundred  years  ago, — 
the  corner-stone  having  been  laid  in  1749.  Dr.  Caner,  the  Rector  of  the 
Church,  had  espoused  the  British  cause,  and  he  accompanied  the  British 
troops,  when  they  evacuated  Boston,  in  1776.  The  few  proprietors  of 
King's  Chapel,  who  remained  in  Boston,  lent  their  building  to  the  congre- 
gation of  the  Old  South  Congregational  Church,  whose  house  of  worship 
had  been  used  by  the  British  army  as  a  riding  school.  The  two  Societies 
occupied  the  building  alternately,  each  with  its  own  forms  and  its  own 
minister, —  one  in  the  morning  and  the  other  in  the  afternoon.  Under 
these  circumstances  Mr.  Freeman  commenced  his  services  as  a  Reader. 

I  have  in  my  possession  a  file  of  letters  which  Mr.  Freeman  wrote  to 
his  father  in  Quebec,  from  which  I  will  make  some  extracts,  showir)g  his 
opinions  and  feelings  at  this  time.  These  letters  have  probably  not  been 
opened  for  sixty  years. 

December  24,  1782.  *  *  *  "I  suppose,  long  before  this  reaches 
you,  you  will  be  made  acquainted  with  my  situation  at  the  Cliapel.  I  am 
now  confirmed  in  the  opinion  that  I  shall  obtain  the  settlement  for  life. 
The  church  increases  every  day,  and  I  am  happy  to  find  that  my  friends 
are  still  very  partial.  I  trust  you  believe  that,  by  entering  into  this  line, 
I  have  imbibed  no  High  Church  notions.  I  have  fortunately  no  tempta- 
tions to  be  bigoted,  for  the  proprietors  of  the  Chapel  are  very  liberal  in 
their  notions.  They  allow  me  to  make  several  alterations  in  the  service, 
■which  liberty  I  frequently  use.  We  can  scarcely  be  called  of  the  Church 
of  England,  for  we  disclaim  the  authority  of  that  country  in  ecclesiastical 
as  well  as  in  civil  matters.  *  *  *  J  forgot  to  mention  in  my  former 
letter  the  sum  I  receive  for  preaching.  For  the  first  six  months,  I  am  to 
be  paid  fifty  pounds  sterling.  This  is  not  much,  but,  when  I  engaged,  the 
church  was  small,  consisting  only  of  about  forty  families.  It  has  already 
increased  to  nearly  eighty.  So  that  I  imagine  that  at  the  end  of  the  six 
♦months,  when  I  shall  enter  into  new  terms,  the  salary  will  be  increased 
to  two  hundred  and  fifty  or  three  hundred  pounds  lawful  money  per  annum. 
I  wish  for  no  more.  Indeed,  if  at  any  period  of  life,  I  knew  what  con- 
tentment was,  it  is  at  the  present." 

In  the  course  of  the  year  or  two  following  his  settlement,  Mr.  Freeman's 
opinions  on  the  subject  of  the  Trinity  were  so  -far  modified  by  his  studies 


JAMES   FREEMAN.  165 

and  reflections  that  he  found  it  necessary  to  propose  to  liis  church  to  alter 
the  Liturgy  in  the  places  where  that  doctrine  appears.  An  English  Uni- 
tarian minister,  Mr.  Hazlitt,  was  at  that  time,  residing  in  Boston,  and  his 
intercourse  with  Mr.  Freeman  may  have  contributed  to  this  change  of  sen- 
timent. But  only  as  an  occasion  —  for  this  change  of  view  lay  in  the 
direction  of  the  tendencies  of  Mr.  Freeman's  mind  and  of  the  tendency  of 
thouglit  in  that  community,  as  appears  from  the  ease  with  which  Unita- 
rianism  spread  in  Boston.  Mr.  Hazlitt  was  the  father  of  William  Hazlitt, 
the  essayist.  The  latter  was  born  in  Boston,  and  Dr.  Freeman  used  to 
speak  of  him  as  a  curly-headed,  bright-eyed  boy. 

Dr.  Greenwood,  in  liis  Sermon  preached  after  tlie  Funeral  of  Dr.  Free- 
man, tlius  speaks  of  the  way  in  which  this  change  of  tlie  Liturgy  was 
eflfeuteil.  He  s;iys  that  Mr.  Freeman  first  thouglit  of  leaving  his  Society. 
"  He  ctunmunicated  his  difficulties  to  those  of  his  friends  with  whom  he 
was  most  intimate.  He  would  come  into  their  houses  and  say, — "  Much 
as  I  love  you,  I  must  leave  you.  I  cannot  conscientiously  any  longer  per- 
form the  service  of  the  Cliurcli,  as  it  now  stands.  But  at  length  it  was 
said  to  him, — '  Why  not  state  your  difficulties,  and  the  grounds  of  them, 
publicly  to  your  whole  people,  tliat  they  may  be  able  to  judge  of  the  case, 
and  determine  whether  it  is  such  as  to  require  a  separation  between  you 
and  tlieni  or  not?'  The  suggestion  was  adopted.  He  preached  a  series  of 
sermons,  in  whieii  he  plainly  stated  his  dissatisfaction  with  the  Trinitarian 
portions  of  the  Liturgy,  went  fully  into  an  exainination  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinit}',  and  gave  Iiis  reasons  for  rejecting  it.  He  has  himself  assured 
me  tliat  when  he  delivered  these  sermons,  he  was  under  a  strong  impres- 
sion tliat  they  were  the  last  he  should  ever  pronounce  from  this  pulpit. 
*  *  *  But  he  was  heard  patiently,  attentively,  kindly.  The  greater 
part  of  his  hearers  responded  to  his  sentiments,  and  resolved  to  alter  tbeir 
Liturgy  and  retain  their  Pastor." 

Alterations  were  accordingly  made  in  general  conformity  with  those  of 
the  amended  Liturgy  of  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  and,  on  the  19th  of  June, 
1785,  the  proprietors  voted,  by  a  majority  of  three-fourths,  to  adopt  those 
alterations.*  In  a  letter  to  his  father,  dated  the  first  of  June,  he  says, 
after  describing  tlie  changes  which  had  been  made  in  the  Liturgy, — '•  la 
two  or  three  weeks,  the  Church  will  finally  pass  the  vote  whether  they  will 
adopt  the  alterations  or  not.  I  flatter  myself  the  decision  will  be  favoura- 
ble ;  for  out  of  about  ninety  families  of  which  the  congregation  consists, 
fifteen  otdy  are  opposed  to  the  reformation.  Should  the  vote  pass  in  the 
negative,  I  shall  be  under  the  necessity  of  resignii\g  my  living."  He  adds, 
however,  that,  in  this  case,  he  has  no  fear  but  that  he  shall  find  employ- 
ment elsewhere.  "  Tlius,'*  says  Mr.  Greenwood,  "  the  first  Episcopal 
Church  in  New  England  became  the  first  Unitarian  Church  in  the  New 
World.  I  mention  this  not  as  a  matter  of  boasting,  but  as  an  historical 
fact.  He,  our  departed  father,  never  boasted  of  it,  or,  indeed,  of  any  thing 
he  ever  did  or  helped  to  do,  and,  at  that  time,  the  change  in  doctrine  and 

*  Before  this  vote  was  taken,  the  proprietors  had  talien  measures  to  ascertain  who  properly 
belonged  to  the  church  as  pew-holders,  and  what  pews  had  been  forfeited  by  the  absence  of 
their  former  owners,  according  to  the  letter  of  their  deeds.  And,  that  no  ground  of  complaint 
should  exist,  the  proprietors  engaged  to  pay  for  every  vacated  pew,  though  legally  forfeited, 
the  sum  of  sixteen  pounds  to  its  fOrmer  owner." —  Greenwood's  History  of  King's  Chapel. 


166  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

service  ^vhich  was  effected,  was  certainly  not  regarded  by  Pastor  or  people 
as  a  subject  of  triumph,  but  of  serious  and  arduous  duty.  The  young 
Reader  at  King's  Chapel  was  surely  placed  in  peculiar  circumstances.  It 
is  his  praise  that  he  made  a  right  and  manly  use  of  them  ;  that  he  did  not 
smother  his  convictions  and  hush  down  his  conscience,  and  endeavour  to 
explain  away  to  himself,  for  the  sake  of  a  little  false  and  outward  jieace, 
the  obvious  sense  of  the  prayers  which  he  uttered  before  God  and  his  peo- 
ple, but  took  that  other  and  far  better  course  of  explicitness  and  honesty. 
By  this  proper  use  of  circumstances  he  placed  himself  where  he  now  stands 
in  our  religious  history."* 

The  next  thing  to  be  considered  was  the  mode  of  Ordination  to  be 
received  by  Mr.  Freeman,  who  was  as  yet  only  a  Header.  In  a  letter  to 
bis  father,  dated  Oct.  31st,  1786,  he  describes  an  application  made  to 
Bishop  Seabury  of  Connecticut,  and  Bishop  Provost  of  New  York,  for 
Ordination,  from  which  the  following  extracts  are  taken,  which  illustrate 
both  the  opinions  of  tlie  time,  and  the  cool  self-possessed  character  of  Mr. 
Freeman. 

"  My  visit  to  Bishop  Seabury  terminated  as  I  expected.  Before  I  waited 
upon  him,  he  gave  out  that  he  never  would  ordain  me,  but  it  was  neces- 
sary to  ask  the  question.  He  being  in  Boston  last  March,  a  committee  of 
our  Church  waited  upon  him,  and  requested  him  to  ordain  me,  witiiout 
insisting  upon  any  other  conditions  than  a  declaration  of  faith  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  He  replied  that,  as  the  case  was  unusual,  it  was  necessary 
that  he  should  consult  his  presbyters —  the  Episcopal  clergy  in  Connecti- 
cut. Accordingly,  about  the  beginning  of  June,  I  rode  to  Stratford, 
where  a  Convention  was  holding,  carrying  with  me  several  letters  of  recom- 
mendation. I  waited  upon  the  Bishop's  presbyters  and  delivered  my 
letters.  They  professed  themselves  satisfied  with  the  testimonials  which 
tiiey  contained  of  my  moral  character,  &c.,  but  added  that  they  could  not 
recommend  me  to  the  Bishop  for  Ordination  upon  the  terms  proposed  by 
my  church.  For  a  man  to  subscribe  the  Scriptures,  they  said,  was  nothing, 
for  it  could  never  be  determined  from  that  what  his  creed  was.  Heretics 
professed  to  believe  them  not  less  than  the  orthodox,  and  made  use  of  them 
in  support  of  their  peculiar  opinions.  If  I  could  subscribe  such  a  declara- 
tion as  that  I  could  conscientiously  read  the  whole  of  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer,  they  would  cheerfully  recommend  me.  I  answered  that  I  could 
not  conscientiously  subscribe  a  declaration  of  that  kind.  '  Why  not  ?' 
'  Because  there  are  some  parts  of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  which  I 
do  not  approve.'  '  What  parts  V  '  The  prayers  to  the  Son  and  the  Holy 
Spirit.'  '  You  do  not  then  believe  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.'  '  No.' 
'  Tliis  appears  to  us  very  strange.  We  can  think  of  no  texts  which  counte- 
nance your  opinion.  We  should  be  glad  to  hear  you  mention  some.'  '  It 
would  ill  become  me.  Gentlemen,  to  dispute  with  persons  of  your  learning 
and  abilities.  But  if  you  will  give  me  leave,  I  will  repeat  two  passages 
which  appear  to  me  decisive  :  There  is  one  God,  and  one  Mediator  betioeen 
God  and  man,  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  There  is  hut  one  God,  the  Father, 
and  one  hard  Jesus  Christ.  In  both  these  passages  Jesus  Christ  is  plainly 
distinguished  from  God,  and  in  the  last,  that  God  is  expressly  declared  to 
•  Greenwood's  Sermon  after  tlie  Funeral  of  Dr.  Freeman,  p.  11. 


JAMES   FREEMAN.  167 

be  the  Father.'  To  this  they  made  no  other  reply  tlian  an  '  Ah  !'  which 
echoed  round  the  room.  '  But  are  not  all  the  attributes  of  the  Father,' 
said  one,  '  attributed  to  the  Son  in  the  Scrii)tures  ?  Is  not  Omnipotence 
for  instance  ?'  '  It  is  true,'  I  answered,  '  that  our  Saviour  says  of  Him- 
self, All  'power  is  given  u7ito  me,  in  Heaveii  and  Earth.  You  will  please 
to  observe  here  that  the  power  is  said  to  be  given.  It  is  a  derived  power. 
It  is  not  self-existent  and  unoriginated,  like  that  of  the  Father.'  '  But  is 
not  the  Son  omniscient  V  Does  He  not  know  the  hearts  of  men  V  '  Yes, 
He  knows  them  by  virtue  of  that  intelligence  which  He  derives  from  the 
Father.  But,  by  a  like  communication,  did  Peter  know  the  hearts  of 
Ananias  and  Sapphira.'  After  some  more  conversation  of  the  same  kind, 
they  told  me  that  it  could  not  possibly  be  that  the  Christian  world  should 
have  been  idolaters  for  seventeen  hundred  years,  as  they  must  be  accord- 
ing to  my  opinions.  In  answer  to  this,  I  said  that  whether  they  had  been 
idolaters  or  not  I  would  not  determine,  but  that  it  was  full  as  probable 
that  they  should  be  idolaters  for  seventeen  hundred  years  as  that  they 
should  be  Roman  Catholics  for  twelve  hundred.  They  then  proceeded  to 
find  fault  with  some  part  of  the  new  Liturgy.  '  We  observe  that  you 
have  converted  the  absolution  into  a  prayer.  Do  you  mean  by  that  to 
deny  the  power  of  the  Priesthood  to  absolve  the  people,  and  that  God  has 
committed  to  it  the  power  of  remitting  sins?'  'I  meant  neither  to  deny 
nor  to  affirm  it.  The  absolution  appeared  exceptionable  to  some  persons, 
for  which  reason  it  was  changed  into  a  prayer,  which  could  be  exception- 
able to  nobody.'  'But  you  must  be  sensible,  Mr.  Freeman,  that  Christ 
instituted  an  order  of  Priesthood,  and  that  to  them  He  committed  the 
power  of  absolving  sins.  Whose  soever  sins  ye  remit  they  arc  remitted 
unto  him,  and  lohose  soever  sins  ye  retain  they  are  retained.''  To  this  I 
made  no  other  reply  than  a  return  of  their  own  emphatic  Ah !  Upon  the 
whole,  finding  me  an  incorrigible  heretic,  they  dismissed  me  without  grant- 
ing my  request.  They  treated  me,  however,  with  great  candour  and 
politeness,  begging  me  to  go  home,  to  read,  to  alter  my  opinions,  and  then 
to  return  and  receive  that  Ordination,  which  they  wished  to  procure  me 
from  their  Bishop.  I  left  them  and  proceeded  to  New  York.  When  there 
I  waited  on  Mr.  Provost,  Rector  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  who  is  elected 
to  go  to  England  to  be  consecrated  a  Bishop.  I  found  him  a  liberal  man, 
and  that  he  approved  of  the  alterations  which  had  been  made  at  the  Chapel. 
Of  him  I  hope  to  obtain  Ordination,  which  I  am  convinced  he  will  cheer- 
fully confer,  unless  prevented  by  the  bigotry  of  some  of  his  clergy.  The 
Episcopal  ministers  in  New  York,  and  in  the  Southern  States,  are  not 
such  High  Churchmen  as  those  in  Connecticut.  The  latter  approach  very- 
near  to  Roman  Catholics,  or  at  least  equal  Bishop  Laud  and  his  followers. 
Should  Provost  refuse  to  ordain  rae,  I  shall  then  endeavour  to  effect  a 
plan  which  I  have  long  had  in  my  head,  which  is  to  be  ordained  by  the 
Congregational  ministers  of  the  town,  or  to  preach  and  administer  the- 
ordinances  without  any  Ordination  whatever.  The  last  scheme  I  mosb 
approve  ;  for  I  am  fully  convinced  that  ho  who  has  devoted  his  time  to  the- 
study  of  divinity,  and  can  find  a  congregation  who  are  willing  to  hear  him, 
is,  to  all  intents,  a  minister  of  the  Gospel ;  and  that,  though  imposition  of 
hands,  either  of  Bishops  or   Presbyters,  be  necessary  to  constitute  him? 


1G8  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Priest  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  in  some  countries,  yet  that,  in  the  eye  of 
Heaven,  lie  has  not  less  of  the  indelible  character  than  a  Bishop  or  a  Pa- 
triarch. Our  early  ancestors,  wlio,  however  wrong  they  might  be  in  some 
particulars,  were  in  general  sensible  and  judicious  men,  were  of  this 
opinion.  One  of  the  articles  of  the  Cambridge  Platform  is  that  the  call 
of  (he  congregation  alone  constitutes  a  man  a  minister,  and  that  imposition 
of  hands  by  Bishops  or  Elders  is  a  mere  form,  which  is,  by  no  means,  essen- 
tial. The  same  sentiments  are  adopted  by  the  most  rational  clergy  in  the  pres- 
ent day,  who  give  up  the  necessity  of  Ordination  as  indefensible,  and  ridi- 
cule the  doctrine  of  the  uninterrupted  succession  as  a  mere  chiniera.  I  am 
happy  to  find  many  of  my  hearers  join  with  me  in  opinion  upon  this  subject." 

As  might,  perhaps,  have  been  foreseen,  it  was  found  impossible  to  pro- 
cure Episcopal  Ordination,  and  Mr.  Freeman  and  his  church  finally  deter- 
mined on  a  method  differing  from  both  of  those  suggested  in  his  letter.  He 
was  neither  ordained  by  the  Congregational  ministers  of  Boston,  nor  yet 
did  he  omit  all  ceremony  of  induction,  but  (as  Mr.  Greenwood  says)  he  fell 
hack  on  first  principles,  and  was  ordained  by  the  church  itself,  by  a  solemn 
service  at  the  time  of  evening  prayer,  November  18th,  1787.  The  War- 
dens entered  the  desk  after  the  usual  evening  service,  and  the  Senior 
Warden  made  a  short  address,  showing  the  reasons  of  the  present  pro- 
cedure. The  first  ordaining  prayer  was  read,  then  the  ordaining  vote,  to 
which  the  members  gave  assent  by  rising,  by  which  they  chose  Mr.  Freeman 
to  be  their  "  Rector,  Minister,  Priest,  Pastor,  and  Ruling  Elder."  Otlier 
services  followed,  among  which  was  the  presenting  a  Bible  to  the  Rector, 
enjoining  on  him  "  a  due  observance  of  all  the  precepts  contained  therein." 

On  the  17th  of  July,  1788,  Mr.  Freeman  was  married  to  Martha  (Curtis) 
the  widow  of  Samuel  Clarke,  merchant  of  Boston.  He  had  no  children, 
though  Mrs.  Freeman  had  one  son  by  her  first  marriage.  She  died  on  the 
24tli  of  July,  1841,  aged  eighty-six  years. 

From  the  time  that  JVIr.  Freeman  was  thus  set  apart  to  his  office,  he 
sustained  the  various  duties  of  the  ministry  till  1809,  when  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Cary  was,  at  his  request,  associated  with  him  as  colleague ;  after 
whose  death,  in  1815,  he  again  served  alone  till  1824,  when  the  Rev.  F.  W. 
P.  Greenwood  was  inducted  as  colleague.  In  1811,  he  was  honoured  with 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity*  from  Harvard  College.  In  1826,  his 
healtli,  had  so  far  given  way  that  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  his  duties  to 
Mr.  Greenwood,  and  retire  to  a  country  residence  near  Boston.  Here  he 
lived  nine  years,  surrounded  by  the  affection  of  young  and  old,  and,  though 
suffering  from  painful  disease,  always  cheerful,  and  at  length  expired,  No- 
vember 14,  1835,  in  the  seventy-seventh  year  of  his  age,  and  the  fifty- 
fourth  of  his  ministry. 

Dr.  Freeman  was  a  member  of  the  first  School  Committee  ever  chosen 
by  the  people  of  Boston,  which  was  elected  in  1792,  the  schools  before 
that  time  being  under  the  charge  of  the  Selectmen  of  the  town.  He  was 
for  many  years  on  this  Committee,  and  was  one  of  those  by  whose  labours 
the  Public  School  System  of  Boston  has  been  brought  to  its  present  excel- 
lent condition.  He  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Massachusetts  Histori- 
cal Society,  and,  during  a  long  period,  one  of  its  most  active  collaborateurs, 
contributing  many  valuable  papers  to  its  Collections.     He  was  a  member 


JAMES    FREEMAN.  169 

of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences.  His  publications  consist 
of  a  Thanksgiving  Sern)on,  1784;  a  Description  of  Boston,  published  in 
the  Boston  ^Magazine,  1784;  Remarks  on  Morse's  American  Universal 
Geography,  1793;  a  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Rev.  John  Eliot,  D.  D., 
1813  ;  a  volume  of  Sermons  published  in  1812,  which  passed  through 
three  editions  ;  and  another  volume  in  1829,  printed  as  a  gift  for  his 
parish,  but  not  published  ;  besides  many  articles  in  periodicals.  He 
printed  no  controversial  sermons,  and  seldom  preached  tliem.  His  style 
was  sententious  and  idiomatic,  and  has  often  been  spoken  of  as  a  model  of 
pure  English.  Though  there  is  no  trace  of  ambitious  thought  or  expres- 
sion in  his  writings,  their  tone  and  spirit  are  wise  and  healthy. 

Although  Dr.  Freeman  was  the  first,  who,  in  this  country,  openly 
preached  Uuitarianism,  under  that  name,  he  never  claimed  the  credit  of 
that  movement,  but  referred  to  Dr.  Mayhew  and  others  as  having  preached 
the  same  doctrine  before.  This  was  no  doubt  true.  Some  form  of  Arian- 
ism  had  prevailed  in  New  England  for  several  years  before  Dr.  Freeman's 
time.  Yet,  as  he  was  the  first  to  avow  and  defend  the  doctrine  by  its  dis- 
tinct name,  he  may  no  doubt  be  considered  as  its  first  preacher.  This  fact 
necessarily  brought  him  into  relations  with  other  advocates  of  these  opin- 
ions, and  he  corresponded  with  Priestley  and  Belsham,  and  especially  with 
Theophilus  Lindsey,  whose  character  he  much  esteemed.  He  also  had 
sympathy  from  Chauncy,  Belknap,  and  others  older  than  himself,  and 
among  his  contemporaries  from  men  like  Bentley,  Clarke,  P^liot,  Kirkland. 
And,  as  he  loved  to  "  keep  his  friendships  in  repair,"  he  was  surrounded 
in  after  years  by  multitudes  of  younger  friends  and  disciples.  He  loved 
the  young,  and  always  sought  to  help  them.  I  have  been  told  of  his 
urging  new  married  people  among  his  parishioners  to  join  the  smaller  and 
struggling  parish  of  some  young  minister — "Go  there,"  he  would  say, 
"and  grow  up  with  that  church,  and  make  yourselves  useful  in  it."  He 
sympathized  with  young  men  in  their  diffident  first  efforts,  and  always 
encouraged  and  befriended  them.  How  then  could  the  young  help  loving 
him  ?  He  was  no  zealot  for  his  own  opinions,  but  a  thoroughly  lib- 
eral man,  and  was  intimate  with  men  of  all  denominations.  The  good 
Bishop  Cheverus  was  one  of  his  best  friends.  He  could  not  tolerate  intol- 
erance, and  disliked  Unitarian  bigotry  quite  as  much  as  Orthodox  bigotry. 
I  have  heard  him  say  "  Sterne  complains  of  the  cant  of  criticism.  I  think 
the  cant  of  liberality  worse  than  that.  I  have  a  neighbour  who  comes  and 
entertains  me  that  way,  abusing  the  Orthodox  by  the  hour,  and,  all  the 
time,  boasting  of  his  own  liberalitj."  He  carried  this  freedom  of  mind 
into  matters  of  taste  as  well  as  matters  of  opinion.  Bred  in  the  school 
which  admired  the  writers  of  Queen  Anne's  day,  he  loved  Addison,  Pope, 
Swift,  Gay,  and  in  Theology,  such  writers  as  the  Boyle  Lecturers  and 
James  Foster.  But  finding  that  many  young  persons  were  interested  in 
Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  he  patiently  read  these  authors  to  see  if  he 
could  find  any  good  in  them.  I  remember  his  reading  Coleridge's  "Aids  to 
Reflection,"  and  his  "  Friend,"  in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  and,  when  he 
had  finished  them,  he  said,  "  I  find  some  excellent  ideas  in  him,  though  I 
do  not  understand  all  his  mysteries.  He  is  a  cloudy  fellow.  I  leave  those 
parts  to  you  younger  folks." 


170  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

The  leading  traits  in  Dr.  Freeman's  character,  which  immediately  im- 
pressed all  who  saw  him,  were  benevolence,  justice,  and  a  Franklin-like 
sagacity.  He  could  endure  to  see  no  Jiind  of  oppression,  and  was  always 
ready  to  take  sides  with  any  whom  he  thought  overborne.  He  was  punc- 
tilious in  keeping  all  engagements,  and  his  honesty  descended  into  the 
smallest  particulars  of  life.  A  lady  said  she  had  seen  him  once  under  the 
following  circumstances.  "  I  was  riding,  with  another  lady,  past  Dr.  Free- 
man's house,  in  the  town  of  Newton,  and  we  noticed  a  dwelling  opposite, 
which  seemed  closed  and  unoccupied,  the  garden  of  which  was  full  of 
flowers.  We  thought  of  gathering  a  few,  and  while  we  hesitated,  we 
noticed  an  old  gentleman,  with  long  white  locks  hanging  on  his  shoulders, 
slowly  walking  on  the  other  side  of  the  road.  I  asked  him  whether  he 
thought  that,  as  there  was  no  one  living  in  the  house,  we  might  gather 
some  of  the  flowers.  He  looked  up  at  us  with  an  arch  smile,  and  said, 
"  They  are  not  my  flowers,  pretty  ladies."  Somewhat  confused,  I  repeated 
my  question,  to  wliieh  he  re{)lied, — •'  I  have  no  right  to  give  them  to  you, 
they  are  not  viy  flowers,  pretty  ladies."  We  rode  away,  not  knowing  till 
afterward  who  it  was,  but  having  received  a  lesson  in  regard  to  the  rights 
of  others  which  we  were  not  likely  soon  to  forget." 

I  will  add  a  few  examples  taken  from  his  familiar  conversation,  which, 
however  trifling  in  themselves,  will  illustrate  his  character  and  turn  of 
mind.  A  lady,  who  had  heard  of  the  Atheist,  Abner  Kneeland,  giving 
public  lectures  in  defence  of  his  views,  said,  <'  What  a  dreadful  thing  it  is. 
Dr.  Freeman  !"  "  I  think  it  will  do  a  great  deal  of  good,"  replied  he,  and 
then  mentioned  a  variety  of  facts  to  show  that  arguments  in  support  of  Infi- 
delity had  always  brought  out  so  many  new  defences  of  Christianity  as  to 
leave  religion  on  a  higher  and  more  impregnable  basis. 

He  was  a  great  lover  of  truth,  but  his  regard  for  the  feelings  of  others 
kept  him  from  harshness.  To  a  youtig  frieiul,  whom  he  thought  in  dan- 
ger of  carrying  independence  too  far,  he  said, — "  It  is  well  to  be  candid, 
but  you  need  not  say  every  thing  which  is  in  your  mind.  If  a  person,  on 
being  introduced  to  me,  should  say,  '  Dr.  Freeman,  what  a  little,  old,  ugly, 
spindle-shanked  gentleman  3'ou  are,'  he  would  no  doubt  say  what  was  in 
his  mind,  but  it  would  not  be  necessary,  I  think,  for  him  to  say  it." 

Some  one  said  to  him  of  a  book, — "  It  is  too  long."  "All  books  are  too 
long,"  he  replied, — "  1  know  only  one  book  which  is  not  too  long,  and  that 
is  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  I  sometimes  think  that  a  little  too  long." 

He  related  this  anecdote  of  the  famous  jMather  Dyles.  "  I  was  once 
walking  with  Dr.  John  Clarke,  and  we  met  Mather  Byles.  He  took  my 
arm  and  said, — "Now  we  have  the  whole  Bible  here.  I  am  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, you,  Mr.  Clarke,  are  the  New  Testament,  and  as  for  Mr.  Freeman, 
he  is  the  Apocrypha." 

As  Dr.  Freeman  was  talking  one  evening  in  his  own  family,  I  took  a  pen- 
cil and  paper,  and  took  notes  of  his  remarks  without  his  being  aware  of  it. 
From  this  paper  I   copy  the  following  sentences. 

"  Do  you  see  human  faces  in  the  coals  of  fire?  The  propensity  I  have 
to  form  the  human  figure  is  frequently  annoying  to  me.  I  make  men  and 
immediately  put  them  into  a  fiery  furnace." 

"  I  find  I  am  growing  very  thin.     S.ome  people  carry  han  ikerchiefs  to 


JAMES    FREEMAN.  171 

wipe  away  tears  wliich  they  do  not  shed,  so  I  wear  clothes  to  conceal  limbs 
whicli  I  do  not  possess." 

"  Is  that  Coleridge  you  are  reading?  Coleridge  himself  reads  curious 
books, —  the  author  who  wrote  in  Latin  at  the  revival  of  learning.  We 
have  better  writers  now.  To  be  sure,  there  were  Grotius  and  Budseus, 
who  were  excellent  writers,  and  especially  Erasmus.  Knox  wrote  well. 
Eut  he  was  an  arrogant  and  rash  man.  He  condemned  the  French  Sermou 
writers,  and  said  how  inferior  they  were  to  tlie  English.  As  an  instance, 
he  quoted  an  Englishman,  who  had  in  fact  copied  from  tlie  French.  That 
fellow  did  not  find  it  out.  In  his  Essays  he  declares  all  mysteries  and  all 
knowledge,  gives  advice  to  young  merchants  and  to  young  tailors.  He  was 
a  man  of  bad  manners.  He  attacked  the  King  of  Prussia  bitterly.  I 
should  think  the  King  might  get  sight  of  such  a  book.  He  stood  such 
things,  however,  with  great  fortitude.  He  was  satisfied  with  possessing 
absolute  power.'' 

"  You  are  reading  John  Buncle.  The  author,  it  seems,  was  a  Unitarian. 
About  Emlyn's  days,  Unitarianism  had  not  made  much  progress.  Did  he 
get  any  persecution  ?  They  used  to  put  Unitarians  in  jail.  Our  ances- 
tors would  have  undoubtedly  done  so,  or  more  probably  would  have  put 
them  to  death.  But  none  appeared.  Dr.  Mayhew  was  the  first  who  cared 
mucli  about  it.  There  was  a  certain  concealment  practised  before  about 
the  Trinity.  Fisher  (of  Salem  I  suppose)  had  a  singular  way  of  satisfying 
his  conscience.  He  was  asked  how  he  could  read  the  Athanasian  creed 
■when  he  did  not  believe  it.  He  replied,  'I  read  it,  as  if  I  did  not  believe 
it.'  Those  are  poor  shifts.  Mr.  Pyle  being  directed  by  his  Bishop  to  read 
it,  did  so,  saying, — '  I  am  directed  to  read  this,  which  is  said  to  have  been 
the  creed  of  St.  Athanasius,  but  God  forbid  that  it  should  be  yours  or 
mine.'  Another  man  had  set  it  to  a  hunting-tune  and  sang  it.  These,  I 
think,  would  hardly  satisfy  the  conscience  of  a  truth-loving  man." 

This  is  a  random  specimen  of  his  conversation  in  the  last  years  of  his 
life.  If  any  one  had  thought  of  recording  his  sayings,  a  very  agreeable 
book  of  table-talk  might  have  been  easily  prepared.  But  this  is  one  of 
the  things  we  are  apt  to  remember  when  it  is  too  late. 

I  cannot  better  close  this  notice  than  by  some  further  extracts  from  Dr. 
Greenwood. 

"  Dr.  Freeman  was  truly  humble,  but  he  was  above  all  the  arts  of 
deception  and  double-dealing ;  and  he  could  not  be  awed  or  moved  in  any- 
way from  self-respect  and  duty.  He  made  all  allowances  for  ignorance 
and  prejudice  and  frailty,  but  arrogance  he  would  not  submit  to,  and 
hypocrisy  he  could  not  abide." 

He  possessed  in  a  remarkable  manner  the  virtue  of  contentment.  You 
heard  no  complaints  from  him.  He  was  abundantly  satisfied  with  his  lot — 
he  was  deeply  grateful  for  his  lot.  The  serenity  of  his  countenance  was 
an  index  to  the  serenity  of  his  soul.  The  angel  of  contentment  seemed 
to  shade  and  fan  it  with  his  wings.  '  I  have  enjoyed  a  great  deal  in  this 
life,'  he  used  to  say,  '  a  great  deal  more  than  I  deserve.'  " 

"  He  loved  children,  and  loved  to  converse  with  and  encourage  them, 
and  draw  out  their  faculties  and  afi'ections.  His  manners,  always  affable 
and  kind,  were  never  so  completely  lovely  as  in  his  intercourse  with  them. 


172  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Naturally  and  insensibly  did  he  instil  moral  principles  and  religious  thoughts 
into  their  minds,  tuid  his  good  influence,  being  thus  gentle,  was  permanent." 

"  The  mind  of  Dr.  Freeman  was  one  of  great  originality.  It  arrived  at 
its  own  conclusions,  and  in  its  own  way.  You  could  not  be  long  in  his 
society  without  feeling  that  you  were  in  the  presence  of  one  who  observed 
and  reflected  for  himself." 

"  Even  when  his  mind  grew  enfeebled,  it  showed  its  strength  in  weak- 
ness. His  memory  sometimes  failed  him,  and  his  ideas  would  become 
somewhat  confused,  in  the  few  months  preceding  his  death  ;  but  his  bear- 
ing was  always  calm  and  manly  ;  he  fell  into  no  second  childhood." 

"  He  looked  upon  death,  as  it  approached  him,  without  fear,  yet  with 
pious  humility.  He  viewed  the  last  change  as  a  most  solemn  change;  the 
judgment  of  God  upon  the  soul  as  a  most  solemn  judgment.  '  Let  no  one 
say,  whe!i  I  am  dead,' — so  he  expressed  himself  to  his  nearest  friends, — 
« that  I  trusted  in  my  own  merits.  I  trust  only  in  the  mercy  of  God 
through  Jesus  Christ.'  " 

So  lived,  laboured  and  died  James  Freeman.  A  man  who  impressed 
himself  on  all  his  friends,  on  his  community,  and  on  his  time,  as  a  pure 
and  true  influence,  for  which  we  might  well  be  grateful.  Many  might  say, 
in  the  words  of  French  philosophers — "  D'autres  ont  eu  plus  d'influence, 
sur  mon  esprit,  et  nies  ide'es.  Lui,  ma  montre  une  ame  Chretienne. 
C'est  encore  a  lui  que  je  dois  le  plus." 

Very  truly  yours. 

JAMES  FREEMAN  CLARKE. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Syracuse,  September  24,  1863. 

My  dear  Sir:  Dr.  Freeman,  concerning  whom  you  ask  for  my  recollections, 
was  my  parents'  Pastor  during  the  whole  of  his  ministry,  and  one  of  my 
father's  most  valued  and  intimate  friends.  Such  was  his  regard  for  him  that 
I  should  have  been  honoured  with  his  name,  but  for  the  death  of  two  broth- 
ers, by  whom  my  parents  had  hoped  to  perpetuate  in  the  family  the  two  names 
which  I  bear. 

It  was  a  part  of  my  education  to  respect  Dr.  Freeman;  and  his  reverent 
aspect  and  manners  deepened  the  impression.  But  though  I  stood  in  awe  of 
him,  I  loved  "  to  pluck  his  gown,  to  share  the  good  man's  smile,"  which  was 
one  of  the  sweetest  that  ever  illuminated  a  human  countenance. 

Dr.  Freeman  was  somewhat  below  the  ordinary  stature.  He  had  a  full, 
solid  person,  and  a  face  in  Avhich  great  benignity  and  high  intelligence  were 
beautifully  blended.  His  manners  were  characterised  by  gentleness  and  scru- 
pulous courtesy.  He  seemed  desirous  to  make  all  about  him  pleased  with 
themselves;  and  it  was  thought  that  sometimes  his  politeness  to  the  fair  sex 
led  him  to  flatter  them.  But  his  benevolence  was  most  conspicuous  in  his 
attention  to  the  poor  and  the  afflicted.  Nothing  that  he  could  do  or  induce 
others  to  do  to  supply  their  wants  or  alleviate  their  sorrows,  was  omitted. 
He  had  fine  social  qualities,  which  made  him  very  attractive  in  private  life, 
but  he  was  little  given  to  visiting,  even  in  his  own  congregation,  bej^ond  a 
limited  circle.  lie  lived,  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  in  the  country, 
a  few  miles  from  Boston,  formerl}'  in  Dorchester,  latterly  in  Newton,  where 
he  not  only  industriously  prosecuted  his  studies,  but  indulged  his  great  love 
of  horticulture,  and  exercised  his  skill    and  taste  in  the  production  of  fine 


JAMES    FREEMAN.  173 

fruits  and  beautiful  flowers.  This  quiet,  retired  manner  of  life  was  not 
merely  agreeable  to  him,  but  rendered  necessary  by  a  local  disease,  often 
very  annoying,  under  which  he  suflered  during  the  last  twenty-five  years  of 
his  life. 

In  1825,  having  served  as  minister  of  King's  Chapel*  nearly  forty  years, 
he  was  compelled  by  his  infirmities  to  withdraw.  His  parishioners  reluct- 
antly consented  to  the  separation,  and,  as  an  assurance  of  their  respect  and 
affection,  they  voted  him  fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  year  for  the  residue  of  his 
life.  He  enjoyed  this  annuity  ten  years,  during  which  time  he  never  felt  able 
to  enter  the  pulpit. 

Dr.  Freeman,  for  a  while  after  his  induction  into  the  ministry,  sustained 
a  somewhat  isolated  position,  being  excluded  from  ministerial  intercourse 
with  the  Episcopalians  on  the  one  hand,  and  not  wholly  instated  among  the 
Congregationalists  on  the  other.  Ere  long,  however,  he  conciliated  the  confi- 
dence of  the  latter,  and,  in  due  time,  secured  the  respect  of  all,  as  a  most 
conscientious  and  honourable  man.  He  did  not  exchange  pulpits  often,  for 
the  reason,  I  suppose,  that  he  did  not  like  extempore  prayer,  and  several 
of  the  neighbouring  ministers  were  embarrassed  in  the  use  of  the  Prayer 
Book,  and  by  the  order  of  Services,  which  were  very  similar  to  those  of 
the  Episcopal  Church.  But  I  well  remember  that  in  1807  or  1808,  when 
the  Old  South  Meeting  House  was  undergoing  extensive  repairs  and  altera- 
tions, Dr.  Eckle}',  with  his  congregation  occupied  King's  Chapel  on  one  part 
of  several  successive  Sundays,  and  Dr.  Freeman  on  the  other;  and  between 
the  two  venerable  men,  1  believe,  a  cordial  friendship  always  existed.  He 
lived  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  Dr.  HoM'ard,  of  the  West  Church  and 
Dr.  Eliot,  of  the  New  North;  and  was  an  esteemed  member  of  the  Boston 
Association  before,  as  well  as  after,  the  division  of  that  Body,  caused  by  the 
controversy  which  commenced  in  1815. 

Dr.  Freeman's  religious  opinions  underwent  considerable  changes  in  the 
course  of  his  ministry.  At  the  time  of  his  settlement,  he  was  probably  not  far- 
ther from  the  accredited  orthodoxy  of  that  day  than  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke.  In 
his  later  years,  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  he  became  decidedly  a  Humani- 
tarian. His  sermons,  however,  were  seldom  doctrinal,  less  frequently  con- 
troveisial.  Much  of  the  greater  part  of  them  would  have  been  deemed  unex- 
ceptionable, in  doctrine  as  well  as  spirit,  by  christians  of  any  communion. 
They  were  remarkable  for  clearness  of  thought  and  simplii;ity  of  diction.  So 
studious  was  he  of  precision  that  no  unnecessary  adjective  ever  escaped  his 
pen. 

In  the  delivery  of  his  sermons,  he  generally  used  but  little  gesture,  and  was 
not  very  animated.  Still  there  was  a  quiet  and  often  pathetic  earnestness, 
that  did  not  f\iil  to  secure  the  attention  of  his  auditors.  On  special  occa- 
sions, particularly  of  affliction,  he  sometimes  exhibited  the  deepest  emotion. 
I  well  remember  that  the  Sunday  after  the  death  of  Dr.  Eliot,  in  attempting 
to  delineate  the  character  of  his  friend,  he  was  completely  overcome,  burst 
into  tears,  and  was  obliged  to  omit  a  part  of  his  discourse. 

The  most  remarkable  instance  of  this  weakness  (if  weakness  it  must  be 
called,  for  a  man  to  be  unable  to  repress  feelings  that  are  the  glory  of  our 
human  nature)  occurred  at  the  grand  celebration,  in  King's  Chapel,  of  the 
downfall  of  Bonaparte,  in  1814.  Dr.  Channing  preached  on  the  occasion  one 
of  his  great  sermons.  Dr.  Freeman  read  selections  which  he  had  made  from 
the  Scriptures,  so  appropriate  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  culled  the  history 

*  Many  persons  queried  why  the  church  was  called  King's  Chapel,  after  the  Revolution 
had  dissolved  our  connection  with  the  Royal  Personage,  by  whose  direction,  and  under  whose 
patronage  it  was  built.  I  believe  it  was  at  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  Freeman  that  the  name 
was  retained,  with  the  understanding  that  the  King  of  Kings  should  be  meant. 


174  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

of  the  modern  usurper  from  the  pages  of  the  Bible.  When  he  came  to  the 
end,  I  well  remember,  he  raised  himself  to  his  utmost  height,  stretched  out 
his  ai^ms,  as  if  in  a  majestic  transport,  his  face  perfectly  radiant  with  emo- 
tion, his  eyes  flashing  unwonted  fire,  and  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice, — 
«'  Babylon  the  Great  has  fallen;  Babylon  the  Great  has  fallen!  Hallelujah! 
Praise  ye  the  Lord!!"  and  then  burst  into  tears.  The  whole  audience  was 
carried  away  with  the  emotion.  Many  who  were  sitting  sprang  to  their  feet, 
and  the  loudest  applause  was  hardly  suppressed. 

Hoping  that  these  fragmentary  recollections  will  help  you  to  perfect  your 
intended  sketch  of  that  venerable  man's  character  and  life,  I  remain,  as  I 
have  been  for  more  than  forty  years,  Very  truly  j^our  friend, 

SAMUEL   J.  MAY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  FREDERICK  A.  FARLEY,  D.  D. 

Brooklyn,  24th  March,  1864. 

Rev.  and  Dear  Sir:  You  were  kind  enough  to  ask  me  for  ««  a  contribution 
concerning  any  body  "  to  your  forthcoming  "  volume  of  Unitarian  Annals  " 
in  the  form  of  "  a  familiar  letter."  Here  you  have  it  in  a  few  reminiscences 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Freeman  of  Boston,  whom  I  have  always  regarded  as  the 
pioneer  and  first  out-spoken  and  avowed  advocate  of  our  denominational  fiiith 
among  American  clergymen,  and  of  his  second  colleague  and  distinguished 
successor  in  the  ministry  at  King's  Chapel,  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Greenwood. 

Of  both  I  have  very  distinct  recollections.  Dr.  Freeman  was  the  Pastor  of 
my  youth.  He  had  a  surprising  sweetness  and  yet  dignity  of  carriage,  which  I 
have  rarely  seen  so  remarkably  combined.  The  expression  of  his  countenance 
■was  bland  and  gentle  as  a  woman's;  and  his  manners  were  most  refined  and 
courteous.  In  his  pastoral  walk  he  was  always  delightful,  and  with  the 
young  specially  winning  and  attractive.  I  can  never  forget  him  at  the  bedside 
of  m)'  excellent  and  dearl}^  loved  dying  mother,  when  I  was  a  boy  of  thirteen. 
He  had  come  home  with  me  from  morning  service  on  the  Sabbath,  at  the  request 
of  my  father,  which  I  had  carried  to  him,  and  found  my  mother  perfectly 
unconscious.  He  knelt  by  her  side  and  prayed  —  but  while  he  prayed,  she 
gently  took  her  departure, — so  gently  that  the  family  were  only  first  made 
aware  of  it  by  noticing  the  change  of  his  voice;  thanking  God  in  a  lofty  tone 
of  piety  for  her  pure,  Christian,  and  beautiful  life, —  which,  as  he  afterwards 
more  than  once  told  me,  he  well  knew  and  appreciated; — and  commending  it 
to  the  consolation  and  imitation  of  her  survivors. 

Dr.  Freeman  was  a  man  of  great  firmness  and  boldness  of  character  withal, 
and  of  transparent  honesty.  He  abhorred  shams  of  every  sort.  Perhaps  this 
was  the  reason  why  he  never  cultivated  oratory;  for  he  was  wont  to  speak 
of  oratory  as  trick.  It  has  often  amazed  me,  knowing  the  tenderness  and 
warmth  of  his  heart  and  his  highly  emotional  nature,  to  notice  how  over-calm 
was  his  pulpit  manner.  Yet  I  have  known  him  often  to  break  utterly  down  in 
the  pulpit,  under  the  weight  of  emotions  which  he  could  not  control.  When  I 
became  old  enough  fully  to  understand  and  appreciate  his  sermons,  although 
in  general  addressed  to  the  sober  judgment  or  cool  moral  sense  of  his  hearers, 
they  often  held  me  enchained  by  their  perfect  truthfulness.  When  I  was 
about  seventeen  and  during  my  college  life,  I  remember  two  sermons,  preached 
on  successive  Sabbaths,  on  the  <<  Character  of  the  Just  Man,"  which  so  pow- 
erfully impressed  me  that  I  lingered  till  the  congregation  retired,  and  then 
went  and  begged  him  to  permit  me  to  read  and  copy  them. 

Of  Dr.  Greenwood  I  retain  recollections  equally  delightful.  We  were 
brought  up  in  the  same  church;  a  church,  by  the  way,  which  has  given  sev- 
eral ministers  of  our  faith  to  the  world  within  my  remembrance:  viz.,  Green- 
wood and  Rev.  Thomas  Russell  Sullivan,  like  him  now  numbered  with  the  dead; 


JAMES    FREEMAN.  175 

Rev.  Samuel  J.  May,  of  Syracuse,  N.  Y.;  Rev.  James  Freeman  Clarke,  T>.  D., 
and  Rev.  J.  T.Sargent,  of  Boston;  Rev.S.  G.Bulfinch,  late  of  Dorchester,  Mass.; 
all  of  whom  are  living.  With  Dr.  Greenwood  I  had  no  personal  acquain- 
tance before  the  year  1825,  when  he  had  become  colleague  to  the  venerable 
and  beloved  Dr.  Freeman,  the  Pastor  of  our  young  days  at  King's  Chapel. 
"When  I  began  my  theological  studies,  Dr.  Freeman  had  retired  an  invalid 
from  his  active  ministry,  and  ceased  to  preach;  and  Dr.  Channing  and  Dr. 
Greenwood  became  my  chosen  counsellors  and  friends.  With  the  latter  I  was 
at  that  period  thrown,  by  greater  nearness  of  age  and  other  circumstances,  into 
very  frequent  and  intimate  intercourse;  to  both  I  was  indebted  for  great  aid 
in  doubts  and  difficulties,  which  I  from  time  to  time  met,  and  for  invaluable 
hints  and  advice  in  my  future  professional  walk.  No  father  could  have  been 
kinder  than  Dr.  Channing,  no  brother  than  Dr.  Greenwood.  I  remember,  on 
one  occasion,  when  our  studies  at  Cambridge  had  led  us  into  the  intricate 
problems  of  God's  Sovereignty,  Man's  Freedom,  and  Man's  Accountablencss, 
that  I  became  exceedingly  puzzled  by  the  Priestleyan  views  of  Philosophical 
Necessity;  and  really  came  near  making  shipwreck  of  all  religious  faith.  I 
kept  m}^  doubts  to  myself  for  a  time,  until  they  haunted  and  tortured  me  day 
and  night.  Study,  meditation,  prayer,  did  not  help  me.  In  my  distress, — for 
distress  most  certainly  it  was, — I  went  to  Boston,  and  at  once  to  Greenwood's 
study.  I  unbosomed  to  him  immediately  my  distress  and  my  difficulties,  and 
the  imminent  and  terrible  peril  in  which  I  felt  myself.  He  was  thouglit  cold 
by  manj';  unsympathetic  by  those  who  did  not  know  him,  by  reason  of  a 
peculiarly  staid  and  quiet  manner.  Yet  he  was  any  thing  but  cold.  lie  entered 
instantly  and  most  cordially  into  my  feelings;  and  told  me  he  had  experienced 
exactly  the  same  and  from  the  same  cause.  "  Still,"  he  said,  substantiallv, 
«'  the  solution  was  very  eas}^  and  simple.  I  interrogated  my  consciousness,  and 
my  consciousness  declared  that  I  was  a  free  agent,  and  that  proved  enougli. 
It  stood  proof  against  any  and  every  difficulty  or  doubt  or  argument,  however 
subtle.  There  was  my  ultimate  appeal;  and  it  echoed  always  to  my  moral 
freedom.  I  am  conscious  that  I  am  a  free  and  an  accountable  agent.  I  know, 
therefore,  that  lam  free  and  accountable."  What  was  enough  for  him  proved 
enough  for  me.  It  was  light  to  me  at  once.  The  load  was  lifted  from  mind 
and  heart,  and  I  left  him  rejoicing. 

When  about  to  be  ordained  to  the  Christian  ministry  at  Providence,  R.  i., 
I  told  Greenwood  that  of  all  things  I  should  be  delighted  to  have  Dr.  Free- 
man give  me  the  <  Charge.'  He  replied  by  reminding  me  that  Dr.  Freeman 
was  too  feeble  to  go  from  home  at  all,  and  especially  to  so  great  a  distance; 
but  added  that  he  dared  say  he  would  be  pleased  at  being  asked.  Accordinglv, 
we  drove  together  to  Newton;  and  found  the  good  old  man,  although  at  times 
a  great  sufferer,  that  day  very  comfortable,  and  glad  to  see  us.  lie  said  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  go  to  Providence,  much  as  he  should  be  pleased  to; 
but  he  would  'charge  '  me  then  and  there.  Immediately  he  proceeded  to  give 
me  an  abundance  of  valuable  hints;  and,  before  closing,  lashed  Greenwood  over 
my  shoulders  by  charging  me  not  to  finish  my  sermons  in  the  pulpit,  as  his 
excellent  colleague  and  brother — pointing  at  him  —  was  accustomed  to  do. 
•«No,  my  young  friend,"  said  the  venerable  man,  <<  finish  your  sermon  before 
Saturday.  Keep  Saturday  for  a  day  of  pleasant  recreation,  that  you  may  go 
fresh  and  vigorous  to  your  pulpit  on  Sunday.  To  that  you  owe  j^our  best 
duty;  and  how  can  you  give  it,  jaded  and  worn  by  Saturday's  and  Saturday 
Night's  toil!"  lie  then  told  us  that,  throughout  his  long  and  active  ministry 
of  forty  years,  he  had  never  —  no,  not  in  a  single  instance,  worked  on  his 
.  sermon  on  Saturday.  It  was  always  the  day  of  pleasantest  and  freest  inter- 
course with  his  friends. 

Greenwood  was  a  man  of  the  most  refined  and  delicate  taste.     He  had  no 


176  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

extempore  gift,  nor  did  he  attempt  its  acquisition.  His  preferences,  like  my 
own, —  lrtrp;cly,  perhaps,  the  result  of  early  habit  and  influences  at  King's 
Chapel, —  were  for  Liturgical  worship  in  the  Sanctuary.  There  was  a  singular 
grace  and  charm  both  in  his  style  of  writing  and  of  delivery.  The  first  was 
polislied  and  yet  simple,  and  the  rhetoric  perfect;  while  the  same  depth  of 
emotion,  and  tender  and  reverent  devoutness  of  sentiment,  which  his  words 
evinced,  characterized  his  manner.  This,  though  generally  quiet  and  sober, 
was  wondrously  expressive  and  effective  from  its  obvious  earnestness  and  sin- 
cerit}'.  In  the  work  of  composition  he  often  walked  the  room  in  thought,  till 
sentence  after  sentence  took  its  exact  form;  and  was  then  committed  to  paper 
perfectly  finished,  with  seldom  the  need  of  erasure  or  correction.  Genial  and 
unconstrained  in  his  home,  full  of  fine  humour  and  salient  points  in  conversa- 
tion, an  ardent  lover  and  master  of  the  best  literature,  few  men  have  I  known 
in  the  Christian  ministry  or  in  social  life,  who  carried  into  their  profession  and 
everywhere  a  holier  or  more  consistent  walk,  than  Francis  William  Pitt  Green- 
wood. I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Yours  with  great  respect, 

faithfully  and  fraternally, 

FREDERICK  A.  FARLEY 


SAMUEL  KENDAL,  D.  D.^ 

1783—1814. 

Samuel  Kendal  was  a  descendant  of  Francis  Kendal,  who  migrated 
early  to  this  country,  and  settled  in  Woburn,  Mass.,  and  who  is  believed 
to  be  the  common  ancestor  of  all  who  bear  the  name  of  Kendal  in  New 
England.  He  was  a  son  of  Elisha  and  Ruth  Kendal,  and  was  born  in 
Sherburne,  Mass.,  on  the  11th  of  Jul}',  1753.  His  father  was  a  black- 
smith ;  and  the  son  spent  his  early  years  at  home,  occasional!}'  earning  a 
trifling  sum  by  working  for  the  farmers  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  attend- 
ing school  a  few  weeks  only  in  the  winter.  When  he  was  about  fourteen 
or  fifteen  years  of  age,  his  father,  in  the  hope  of  better  providing  for  a 
large  family,  moved  to  Annapolis,  Nova  Scotia,  Here  the  son  continued 
to  work  on  farms  till  he  was  nineteen  years  of  age,  when  he  had  earned 
enough  to  purchase  of  his  father  the  remaining  two  years  of  his  minority. 
From  early  childhood  he  had  formed  the  purpose  of  acquiring  a  collegiate 
education,  and  becoming  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  With  this  object 
always  before  him,  he  surmounted  obstacles  that,  to  a  less  determined  and 
energetic  spirit,  would  have  been  insuperable.  He  was  so  delighted  with 
the  idea  of  returning  to  New  England  that  he  crossed  the  Bay  of  Fundy, 
at  great  risk,  with  one  other  person,  in  a  small  boat,  which  he  called  an 
egg-shell,  and  which  he  said  they  could  carry  asliore  themselves.  He  went 
immcdiatel}'  to  his  native  town,  and  there  prosecuted  his  studies  prepara- 
tory to  entering  College,  under  the  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Elijah  Brown, 
supporting  himself,  meanwhile,  by  labouring,  part  of  the  time,  on  Mr. 
Brown'*  farm.  Ju.st  as  he  was  prepared  for  College,  he  found  himself 
amidst  the  perils  and  struggles  of  the  Revolution,  and  he  felt  constrained 
to  enter  the  army  as  a  volunteer  ;   though,  as  a  preliminary  step,  he  went 

•   Ms.  from  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Marshall. — Columbian  Centinel,  1814. 


SAMUEL    KENDAL.  177 

into  tlie  hospital  and  had  the  small  pox.  Owing  to  these  various  embar- 
rassments and  detentions,  he  did  not  enter  College  until  he  was  twenty- 
five  years  of  age.  As  he  was  obliged  to  rely  entirely  on  liis  own  exer- 
tions for  the  means  of  defraying  his  college  expenses,  he  devoted  all  or 
nearly  all  his  vacations  to  teaching  a  school  in  Waltham,  besides  fitting 
several  young  men  for  College,  two  or  three  of  whom  afterwards  acquired 
great  distinction.  By  his  uncommon  industry  and  prudence,  he  not  only 
met  all  his  current  expenses,  but  was  forty  pounds  richer  when  he  left 
College  than  when  he  entered.  He  was  graduated  in  1782,  with  an  excel- 
lent reputation  as  a  scholar. 

After  his  graduation,  it  is  believed  that  he  spent  most  of  his  time  at 
Cambridge,  in  the  study  of  Theology,  until  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  by 
the  Cambridge  Association.  He  had  scarcely  commenced  his  public 
labours  before  he  received  a  call  to  settle  over  the  Congregational  Church 
in  Weston,  as  successor  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Woodward,  who  had  died  the 
preceding  year.  He  accepted  the  call,  and  was  ordained  on  the  5th  of 
November,  1783, — the  Kev.  Dr.  Willard,  President  of  Harvard  College, 
preaching  the  Ordination  Sermon. 

Mr.  Kendal,  during  the  early  period  of  his  ministry,  was  visited  with 
sore  trials.  Before  he  had  a  home  in  Weston,  his  father  returned  from 
Nova  Scotia,  being  threatened  with  imprisonment  for  his  refusal  to  take 
the  oalh  of  allegiance  to  George  III.  He  worked  at  his  trade  in  Roxbury 
until  his  son  became  a  housekeeper,  and  was  able  to  give  him  a  home  with' 
his  own  family.  He  left  behind  him  in  Nova  Scotia  six  daughters,  three- 
of  whom  were  married;  and  when  they  heard  that  their  brother  was  set- 
tled in  Weston,  and  had  a  home  for  their  father,  the  married  sisters  placed> 
the  three  girls  who  were  unmarried  on  board  a  vessel  for  Boston  ;  and  the- 
first  he  knew  of  their  having  left  Nova  Scotia  was  that  they  arrived  at  his 
own  door,  in  a  state  of  entire  destitution,  having  walked  from  Boston, — a 
distance  of  twelve  miles.  By  the  assistance  of  some  of  his  friends,  he 
quickly  succeeded  in  furnishing  them  with  the  necessary  supply  of  cloth- 
ing, and  providing  them  with  homes,  where  they  could  earn  a  subsistence- 
and  prepare  themselves  for  usefulness.  Scarcely  had  this  perplexity  been- 
surmounted,  and  the  prospect  of  being  able  to  support  his  family,  and  pay 
off"  a  debt  necessarily  incurred,  begun  to  open  upon  him,  when  his  house 
took  fire  in  the  night,  and  was  consumed,  with  nearly  all  its  contents. 
This  happened  on  the  19th  of  February,  1791.  His  father  was  the  first 
person  to  discover  the  flames  and  waken  the  other  members  of  the  family. 
A  very  deep  snow  had  fallen  a  few  days  previous,  and  not  a  single  neigh- 
bour knew  of  the  conflagration  till  just  as  the  house  and  contents  fell  to- 
gether into  the  cellar.  Fortunately,  Mr.  Kendal  had  a  small  study  near- 
his  house,  in  which  the  family  were  able  to  find  a  shelter  till  daylight. 
When  the  catastrophe  came  to  be  known,  there  was  no  lack  of  friends  to 
profi"er  their  hospitalities  to  his  family,  and  in  due  time  the  loss  was  in  a 
great  measure  made  up  to  him,  and  a  new  house  built  on  the  site  of  the 
old  one. 

Mr.  Kendal,  more  especially  in  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  received  a. 
considerable  number  of  young  men  into  his  house  to  prepare  them  for  Col- 
lege ; — a  measure  which   a  very  small  salary  rendered  necessary  to  the 
Vol.  VIIL  12 


178  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

support  of  his  family.  But  his  time  was  devoted  almost  exclusively  to  his 
professional  duties.  He  was  frequently  called  upon  for  public  services 
abroad,  and  it  is  believed  never  failed  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  occasion. 
In  the  year  1806,  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon 
liiin  by  Yale  College, — an  evidence  that  his  character  was  known  and 
appreciated  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  State. 

Dr.  Kendal  experienced  very  little  interruption  of  his  labours  from 
bodily  indisposition.  In  an  Historical  Discourse  that  he  delivered  the 
year  previous  to  his  death,  he  states  that  he  had  been  detained  from  public 
worship  but  one  Sabbath,  either  by  sickness  or  inclemency  of  weather,  for 
thirty  years  ;  and  that  he  had  left  the  pulpit  without  a  supply,  on  his  own 
private  business,  for  two  Sabbaths  only,  within  that  period.  He  continued 
to  supply  his  pulpit  regularly  until  the  Sabbath  preceding  his  death.  On 
Tuesday,  the  8th  of  February,  1814,  he  drove  his  own  horse  and  chaise  to 
Boston,  with  a  view  to  attend  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Edward  Everett,  as 
Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Brattle  Square.  Here  he  met  two  of  his  children, 
and  passed  a  night  with  each  of  them  ;  but  seemed  to  be  suffering  from  a 
severe  cold.  By  his  urgent  request,  they  consented  to  pass  the  next  Sab- 
bath with  him,  but  when  they  reached  his  house  on  Saturday,  they  found 
him  unable  to  leave  it,  and  seriously  threatened  with  typhus  fever.  They 
had  pressing  engagements  at  home  on  Monday,  and  he  advised  them  to 
return,  though,  by  this  time,  it  was  evident  that  his  case  had  assumed  an 
alarming  form.  In  the  evening,  he  was  so  unable  to  help  himself  that  a 
kind  neighbour  was  called  in  to  assist  him  to  bed,  and  to  watch  with  him. 
Without  any  apparent  change,  he  breathed  his  last  about  six  o'clock  on 
Tuesday  morning,  February  15th,  in  the  sixty-first  year  of  his  age,  and 
the  thirty-first  of  his  ministry.  The  first  intimation  to  the  parish  of  his 
being  alarmingly  ill,  was  the  solemn  tolling  of  the  bell  at  sunrise.  His 
Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Osgood  of  Medford. 

He  was  married,  not  far  from  the  time  that  he  commenced  his  ministry, 
to  Mary  Austin  of  Cambridge  ;  but  this  connection  was  terminated  by  her 
death  within  two  years.  On  the  12th  of  October,  1786,  he  was  married 
to  Abigail,  the  eldest  daughter  of  his  predecessor,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Wood- 
ward. She  became  the  mother  of  four  children,  the  youngest  of  whom  she 
left  an  infant  two  hours  old.  In  1794,  he  married  Miranda  Woodward, 
another  daughter  of  his  predecessor,  who  also  became  the  mother  of  four 
children.  She  survived  him  seventeen  years,  and  died  in  1832.  Dr.  Ken- 
dal's father  survived  him  nine  years,  and  had  his  home  in  the  family  till 
his  death,  in  1824,  when  he  lacked  but  a  few  days  of  ninety-nine  years. 
His  youngest  son,  Henry  Pay  son,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1820  ; 
was  Preceptor  of  the  Deerfield  Academy  several  years,  and  afterwards  a 
•teacher  in  the  Latin  School  in  Boston,  till  his  failing  health  obliged  him 
•to  return  to  his  mother's,  where  he  died  of  consumption  in  1832. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Kendal's  publications: — 

A  Sermon  at  the,  Ordination  of  Thaddeus  Mason  Harris,  Dorchester, 
1793.  A  Sermon  on  the  Day  of  the  National  Thanksgiving,  1795.  A 
"Sermon  tit  the  Ordination  of  Isaac  Allen,*  1804.     A  Sermon  at  the  Gen- 

•TsAAC  Allen  was  born  at  Weston,  October  31,  1770;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College 
in  1798;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Bolton,  Mass.,  March  14,  1804; 
and  died  in  1844. 


SAMUEL    KENDAL.  179 

eral  Election,  1804.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Avery  Williams,* 
1807.  A  Sermon  at  the  Interment  of  the  Hon.  Samuel  Dexter,  1810. 
Seven  Sermons  to  Young  People,  published  in  the  Christian  Monitor,  1810. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Peter  Nourse,t  1812.  A  Sermon  deliv- 
ered at  Weston,  on  the  Termination  of  a  Century  since  the  Incorporation 
of  the  Town,  1813.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  Isaac  Hurd,t 
1813.     A  Sermon  on  the  Love  of  God,  [date  not  ascertained.] 

I  have  distinct  recollections  of  Dr.  Kendal,  though  they  date  back  to 
my  early  youth.  When  I  was  about  fifteen  years  old  I  spent  a  night  and 
part  of  two  days  at  his  house,  and  I  thought  him  one  of  the  most  genial 
and  pleasant  of  men.  His  first  appearance  was  altogether  commanding  and 
impressive,  but  his  fine  social  qualities  very  soon  put  me  at  my  ease,  and 
I  saw  that  he  was  doing  his  utmost  to  interest  and  gratify  me.  He  knew 
that  I  had  just  come  from  Cambridge,  where  I  had  seen  President  Kirk- 
land  ;  and  he  said  enough  to  show  that  his  admiration  of  him  scarcely  had 
a  limit.  It  was  evident  too  that  he  was  specially  devoted  to  Harvard  Col- 
lege, regarding  it  as  furnishing  the  best  advantages  for  the  training  of  the 
intellect  to  be  found  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  He  gave  me,  as  I 
was  leaving  him,  the  volume  of  the  Christian  Monitor,  containing  his 
Seven  Sermons  to  Young  People,  with  his  hand  writing  on  the  fly  leaf; 
and,  though  more  than  half  a  century  has  passed  since,  the  book  still  stands 
in  my  library,  as  a  testimony  of  his  good-will,  and  a  specimen  of  his  seri- 
ous and  earnest  teaching. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JAMES  KENDALL,  D.  D. 

Plymouth,  20  March,  1856. 

My  dear  Sir:  Your  very  kind,  and  to  an  octogenarian,  encouraging,  com- 
munication of  the  17th  inst.  was  duly  received.  No  apology  is  necessary  for 
any  inquiries  you  may  ever  have  occasion  to  make  of  me;  for  I  assure  you 
that  our  correspondence  has  been  one  of  the  pleasant  circumstances  of  my  old 
age;  and  so  long  and  so  far  as  T  am  able,  I  shall  be  happy  to  answer  any 
inquiries  concerning  the  venerable  men  of  a  past  generation,  which  you  may 
have  occasion  to  make. 

Dr.  Kendal  ("for  he  wrote  his  name  with  one  Z)  was  probably  a  relative  of 
mine,  though  we  were  never  able  to  trace  the  relationship.  The  date  of  his 
graduation  at  Cambridge  was  fourteen  years  anterior  to  mine;  but  I  became 
acquainted  with  him  during  my  connection  with  College,  and  after  I  entered 
the  ministry  my  opportunities  of  intercourse  with  him  were  not  unfrequent. 

*  Avery  "Willi  Airs,  a  son  of  the  Rev.  Henry  Williams,  was  born  in  Guilford,  Vt.,  in  1782; 
was  graduated  at  Dartmouth  College  in  1S04;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the-  Congregational 
Church  in  Lexington,  Mass.,  December  30,  1807;  resigned  his  charge,  on  account  of  ill  health, 
September  6,  1815;  went  to  the  South  and  died,  according  to  one  account,  in  Spartanburg, 
S.  C,  and,  according  to  another,  in  Fayetteville,  N.  C,  February  4,  1816.  He  published 
an  Historical  Discourse,  delivered  at  Lexington,  1813.  Henry  Williams,  the  father,  was 
a  native  of  Stonington,  Conn.;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Guil- 
ford, Vt.,  October  28,  1778;  was  dismissed  in  1783;  was  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in 
Leverett,  Mass.,  November  10,  1784;  and  died  November  27,  1811,  aged  sixty-six.  He  pub- 
lished a  Sermon,  on  Seeking  the  Lord,  preached  at  Shutesbury,  Mass.,  1809. 

f  Peter  Nourse  was  a  native  of  Boston;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1802:  was 
ordained  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Ellsworth,  Me.,  September  9,  1812;  was  dismissed  Novem- 
ber 11,  1835;  and  died  at  Phillipsburgh,  Me.,  March  25,  1840,  as^ed  sixty-five. 


180  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

I  heard  him  preach  several  times  in  the  earlier  part  of  liis  ministry,  and  once 
at  a  later  period, — on  the  occasion  of  the  General  Election  in  Massachusetts, 
under  the  administration,  I  believe,  of  Governor  Strong,  and  while  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson Avas  President.  It  was  about  the  time  of  the  purchase  of  Louisiana; 
and  I  well  remember  that  the  Doctor  lifted  up  a  voice  of  seven  thunders  in 
protestation  against  the  measure.  Instead  of  strengthening  the  Union,  he 
believed  it  would  prove  only  an  element  of  weakness.  We  had  alread}',  he 
believed,  as  many  States,  and  as  much  territory  as  we  could  control  or  ren- 
der available  to  us.  I  do  not  know  what  the  good  man  would  say  if  he  were 
among  us  now,  with  not  only  Louisiana,  but  Texas,  and  California,  and  Ore- 
gon, and  a  part  of  Mexico, — to  say  nothing  of  the  thirsting  after  Cuba  and 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  &c.  lie  might  be  reconciled  to  our  having  the  control 
of  the  Mississippi  River;  but  I  think  that,  without  some  very  decided  change 
in  his  opinions,  he  would  remonstrate  against  fitting  out  an  expedition  against 
St.  Domingo. 

Dr.  Kendal  had  a  large,  firmly  built  frame,  was  well  proportioned,  and  had 
a  commanding  and  dignified  presence.  His  mind  was  vigorous,  comprehensive, 
and  well  stored;  but  he  was  much  more  at  home  in  the  regions  of  sound  com- 
mon sense  and  practical  thought  than  of  pliilosophical  speculation.  His  man- 
ners were  those  of  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school, — bland  and  courteous, 
without  much  of  artificial  polish.  His  whole  life  was  an  exhibition  of  the 
most  unbending  integrity.  The  resolution  of  the  Patriarch  seemed  to  have 
been  his  motto, — «<  Till  I  die,  I  will  not  remove  my  integrity  from  me;  my 
righteousness  shall  stand  forth  and  I  will  not  let  it  go;  my  heart  shall  not 
reproach  me  so  long  as  I  live." 

Of  Dr.  Kendal's  religious  opinions  I  can  say  little  more  than  that  he  was 
classed  with  those  who  are  denominated  "liberal,"  and  was  probably  an  Arian, 
though  I  think  he  was  little  disposed  either  to  converse  or  to  preach  on  con- 
troversial subjects.  His  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  calm  and  impressive,  and 
his  discourses  were,  I  believe,  always  sensible,  well  digested,  and  edifying. 
So  far  as  I  know,  not  the  semblance  of.  a  spot  rests  upon  his  character. 

Believe  me,  with  great  sincerity. 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  brother, 

JAMES  KENDALL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  A.  LAMSON,  D.  D. 

Dedham,  December  22,  185G. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  fear  that  my  juvenile  reminiscences  of  Dr.  Kendal  will 
prove  to  be  of  little  interest  or  worth.  He  died  while  I  was  in  College,  and  I 
can  only  speak  of  him  according  to  the  immature  judgment  of  a  boy.  Minis- 
ters were  then  reverenced  as  they  are  not  now, — reverenced  as  a  sort  of  supe- 
rior beings.  We  looked  up  to  them,  and  hardly  dared  speak  in  their  presence. 
I  regarded  Dr.  Kendal  with  a  sort  of  awe,  and  never  thought  of  criticising 
any  of  his  performances.  He  possessed  a  remarkably  vigorous  intellect.  He 
was  a  clear-headed  man,  and  always  thought  for  himself;  a  man  of  decision 
and  energy.  His  appearance,  voice,  tone  and  manner,  all  carried  authority 
with  them.  Yet  he  was  far  from  what  would  be  called  a  dogmatist.  He 
reasoned  out  his  opinions,  and  held  them  firmly,  but  without  one  particle  of 
bigotry  or  uncharitableness.  His  services  were  plain,  practical,  earnest,  and 
fitted  to  make  an  impression  that  he  felt  that  he  was  dealing  in  momentous 
realities.  I  do  not  think  that  he  ever  preached  a  feeble  sermon.  He  avoided, 
according  to  my  recollection,  introducing  into  his  pulpit  discussions  on  sub- 
jects of  polemical  theology.  He  was  not,  in  any  sense,  a  controversial 
preacher.     He  belonged  to  the  old  school  of  liberal  theologians  of  the   days 


BEZALEEL    HOWARD.  181 

preceding  the  breaking  out  of  the  Unitarian  controversy  in  1815.  Whether 
he  was  a  Unitarian,  properly  so  called,  I  do  not  know.  I  never  heard  him 
assert  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  in  the  pulpit  or  elsewhere.  My  impression 
is  that  he  confined  himself  mostly  to  scriptural  expressions  on  that  and  other 
points,  called  sometimes  <'  points  of  doctiine."  I  only  remember  that,  when 
I  Avent  to  Andover  to  complete  ni}'^  preparation  for  College,  and  heard  Dr. 
Griffin,  Dr.  Woods,  and  the  students  fiom  the  Theological  Institution,  preach, 
and  occasionally  Professor  Stuart,  their  views  w^re  absolutely  new  to  me.  I 
had  never  heard  any  thing  of  the  kind  before,  either  from  Dr.  Kendal,  or  from 
those  who  occupied  his  pulpit  by  exchange.  My  impression  is  that,  as  a  gene- 
ral rule.  Dr.  K.  made  few  pastoral  visits,  though  probably  he  did  as  much  in 
that  way  as  the  generality  of  clergymen  of  his  day, —  less,  I  think,  than  is 
expected  now.  He  visited  the  schools  alwa3rs  at  the  closing  winter  examina- 
tion, and,  after  consulting  with  other  visitors,  pronounced  a  sort  of  verdict 
on  the  appearance  of  the  school,  and  made  a  short  address.  His  opinions 
were  regarded  with  great  defeience  on  these  as  on  all  other  occasions,  and  we 
thought  it  a  great  thing  to  have  his  approbation.  He  was  essentfally  kind  in 
all  his  intercourse  with  his  parishioners,  a  whole-souled  man,  and  devoted  to 
his  work  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  He  stood  high  among  the  clergy  of  his 
day,  and  was  alwaj's,  in  his  own  and  the  neighbouring  pulpits,  an  acceptable 
Preacher. 

Such  are  my  general  impressions  of  Dr.  Kendal.  I  am  sensible  that  they 
are  of  little  value, — mere  boyish  recollections;  but  such  as  they  are,  they  are 
quite  at  your  service.  With  great   respect. 

Very  truly  yours, 

A.  LAMSON. 


BEZALEEL  HOWARD,  D.  D.* 

1783—1837. 

Bezaleel  Howard,  a  son  of  Nathan  Howard,  was  born  at  Bridge- 
water,  JMass.,  on  the  22ii  of  November,  1753.  His  father  was  a  large 
farmer,  and  was  earnestly  desirous  tliat  tliis  son  should  become  a  farmer 
also,  from  a  conviction  tliat  it  was  the  safest  business  in  which'he  could 
engage.  Tlie  son,  on  tlie  contrary,  from  a  very  early  age,  had  his  heart  set 
upon  a  liberal  education  ;  and  at  fifteen  he  taught  a  private  school  in  his 
native  place.  In  accordance  with  his  father's  wishes,  he  continued  to 
labour  on  the  farm  till  he  was  twenty-one,  and  then  commenced  his  pre- 
paration for  College.  His  preparatory  studies  were  conducted  by  a  Mr. 
Reed  ;  and  so  rapid  was  his  progress  that  he  had  ver}'  soon  passed  those 
who  commenced  sometime  before  him  ;  and  in  nine  months  he  was  ready 
to  enter  at  Harvard.  He  did  enter  there  in  1777,  and  graduated  in  1781. 
He  held  a  distinguished  rank  as  a  scholar,  throughout  his  whole  course, 
having  the  advantage  not  only  of  an  excellent  mind,  but  a  mind  matured 
by  a  greater  number  of  years  than  most  of  his  fellow-students  in  the  Uni- 
versity. 

Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he  engaged  in  teaching  a  school  in 
Ilingham,   and,   at  the   same    time  pursued   a   course  of  theological    study 

*  Communications  from  himself  and  Mrs.  Howard. 


182 


UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


Under  the  direction  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Gay.  During  his  residence  here,  ho 
was  licensed  to  preach,  and  preached  his  first  sermon  in  Dr.  Gay's  pulpit. 
In  1783,  two  years  after  he  graduated,  he  was  appointed  to  a  Tutorship  at 
Cambridge,  and  held  the  office  until  a  short  time  previous  to  his  settlement 
in  the  ministry.  During  this  period,  he  was  accustomed,  on  the  Sabbath, 
to  supply  vacant  pulpits  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  to  assist  his  brethren, 
as  they  had  occasion  for  his  services.  I  distinctly  remember  to  have  heard 
him  speak  of  preaching  for  Dr.  Chauncy,  after  he  had  become  infirm, 
and  of  visiting  Dr.  Mather  Byles,  a  short  time  before  his  death,  and  being 
greeted  by  him,  as  Dr.  B.  was  accustomed  to  greet  every  body,  with  a  pun. 

It  was  during  the  latter  part  of  his  residence  at  Cambridge  that  he  was 
invited  to  preach  as  a  candidate  by  the  First  Church  and  Society  in  Spring- 
field, then  vacant  by  the  recent  death  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Breck.  He  con- 
sented to  preach  for  them  during  a  college  vacation,  though  he  did  it  some, 
what  reluctantly,  as  he  preferred  to  delay  somewhat  longer  his  settlement 
in  the  ministry.  His  services  were  so  acceptable  that  he  was  invited  to 
repeat  his  visit;  and,  having  complied  with  this  request,  and  preached  for 
them  a  few  additional  Sabbaths,  he  received  a  call  to  become  their  Pastor. 
The  call  was  presented  in  November,  1784,  but  his  Ordination  did  not  take 
place  until  the  27th  of  April,  1785.  The  Sermon  on  that  occasion  was 
preached  by  the  Rev.  Timothy  Hilliard,  of  Cambridge,  and  was  published. 

He  continued  his  labours  with  general  acceptance  till  September,  1803, 
when  a  feeble  state  of  health  obliged  him  to  retire  from  his  active  duties. 
He  took  a  severe  cold,  but  preached  on  the  next  Sabbath,  though  with  great 
difficulty.  On  the  Sabbath  after  that  he  preached  again,  and  for  the  last 
time  ;  for  by  that  effort  his  vocal  organs,  so  far  as  public  speaking  was  con- 
cerned, were  ruined.  After  waiting  about  two  years,  in  the  hope  that  his 
health  might  be  restored,  it  was  mutually  agreed  that  the  relation  between 
him  and  his  people  should  be  dissolved,  whenever  the  parish  should  unite 
in  the  settlement  of  another  minister.  Accordingly,  the  resignation  of  his 
charge  was  read  on  the  day  of  the  Ordination  of  his  successor,  Jaiiuary 
25,  1809,  and  the  grateful  and  affectionate  regards  of  his  people  followed 
him  to  retired  life. 

In  1819,  in  consequence  of  some  difficulties  which  existed  in  the  First 
Parish  of  Springfield,  growing  out  of  a  difference  of  doctrinal  views,  a  new 
Unitarian  Church  was  organized,  and  the  Rev.  "W.  B.  0.  Peabody,  in  due 
time,  became  its  Pastor.  With  this  church  Mr.  Howard  associated  him- 
self, and  continued  in  connection  with  it  till  the  close  of  life.  He  has 
repeatedly  told  me  that,  though  he  had  always  been  an  Arminian,  yet,  up 
to  that  time,  he  had  taken  for  granted  the  doctrine  of  the  Supreme  Divin- 
ity of  Jesus  Christ  ;  that  he  was  then  led  to  a  minute  examination  of  all 
passages  of  Scripture  that  relate  to  the  subject,  the  result  of  which  was  a 
conviction  of  the  sole  Supremacy  of  the  Father.  He,  however,  held  to  tho 
doctrine  of  atonement,  in  the  sense  of  propitiation  or  expiation,  with  the 
utmost  tenacity;  and  I  have  heard  him  say  that  he  regarded  the  rejection 
of  it  as  the  rejection  of  Christianity.  His  views  of  the  character  of  the 
Saviour  were  not  perhaps  very  accurately  defined  ;  he  seemed  to  regard 
Him  as  a  sort  of  eternal  emanation  from  Deity  ; — not  a  creature  in  the 
strict  sense,  on  the  one  hand,  nor  yet  the  Supreme  God  on  the  other. 


BEZALEEL    HOWARD.  lod 

In  1824,  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by 
Harvard  College. 

From  the  period  of  his  withdrawal  from  the  active  duties  of  his  office, 
he  never  had  anv  fixed  employment ;  nor  indeed  would  his  lioalth  admit  of 
it.  He  spent  a  large  part  of  his  time  in  reading  and  meditation  ;  while  he 
was  always  ready  with  a  cordial  greeting  for  his  friends,  and,  once  at  least 
each  day,  when  the  weather  would  admit,  he  showed  himself  in  the  street, 
and  always  had  a  word  in  season  for  whomsoever  he  might  happen  to 
meet.  I  saw  him  frequently  while  I  lived  in  his  neighbourhood,  and 
occasionally  after  I  changed  my  residence  ;  but  rarely,  if  ever,  saw  him, 
when  he  did  not  breathe  forth  some  expression  of  gratitude  to  his  Supreme 
Benefactor.  In  this  state  of  mind  he  continued  till  death  terminated  his 
earthly  career.  He  sunk  gradually  under  the  infirmities  of  age,  and  died 
on  the  20th  of  January,  1837,  aged  eiglity-thrce  years.  His  Funeral 
Sermon  was  preached  by  the  llev.  Dr.  Peabody. 

I)r.  Howard  was  twice  married  ;  first  within  a  few  months  after  his  set- 
tlement, to  Lucinda,  daughter  of  Jonathan  Dwight,  one  of  the  prominent 
members  of  his  congregation.  She  died  after  about  two  years,  leaving  a 
daughter  who  was  subsequently  married  to  Samuel  Orne,  of  Springfield, 
but  is  now  deceased.  Dr.  Howard  related  to  me  this  circunibtance,  in 
connection  with  the  death  of  his  first  wife.  She  had  been,  for  a  considera- 
ble time,  manifestly  sinking  with  consumption.  During  the  early  part  of 
the  last  night  of  her  life,  he  remained  with  her,  watching  by  her  bedside, 
but  subsequently  left  her  for  a  short  time  to  get  a  little  rest.  The  nurse 
soon  came  to  his  door,  bringing  a  request  from  Mrs.  Howard  that  he  would 
come  to  her  chamber  without  delay.  On  entering  the  room,  he  perceived 
no  change  in  her  appearance  ;  but  she  instantly  said  to  him, — "  I  am  dying." 
He  assured  her  that  it  could  not  be  so  ;  and  added  that  there  was  nothing 
more  to  indicate  approaching  death  in  her  case  than  there  had  been  for 
several  weeks.  "But  I  am  dying,  notwithstanding."  was  her  reply.  "Why 
do  you  think  so?" — answered  the  anxious  husband.  "  Because,"  said  she, 
"  thougli  I  feel  no  pain,  there  is  an  indescribable  sensation  creeping  over 
me,  which  I  am  sure  is  death."  Within  less  than  an  hour  from  that  time, 
she  breathed  her  last. 

After  living  a  widower  about  two  years,  he  was  married  to  Prudence, 
dauglitcr  of  Ezekiel  Williams,  of  Wethersfield,  Conn.  By  this  marriage 
he  had  four  children.  Two  of  them  died  young  ;  another — John  Howard, 
of  Springfield,  died  in  1849,  greatly  lamented  by  the  community  at  large, 
■while  a  younger  son  still  survives.  Mrs.  Howard,  who  was  a  highly  intel- 
ligent and  benevolent  lady,  died  on  the  24th  of  March,  1853. 

Dr.  Howard  published  a  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  Antipas 
Steward.* 

Some  time  after  Dr.  Howard's  death,  Mrs.  Howard  gave  me  several  of 
his  latest  original  manuscripts,  among  which  are  two  letters  —  it  does  not, 
appear  to  whom  they  were  addressed  —  which  put  beyond  all  question 
some  of  his  views  of  Christian  doctrine.     As  the  names  of  the  parties  are 

*  Antipas  Steward  was  born  at  Marlborough,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College- 
in  1760;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Ludlow,  Mass.,. 
November  27,  1793;  and  died  March  15,  1814,  aged  eighty. 


184  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

not  given,  it  is  presumed  there  can  be  no  indelicacy  in  incorporaling  tliera 

witli  tills  sketch.      The  first  part  of  one  of  them  was  written  hy  an  anxanu- 

ensis,  but  it  was  corrected   by  Dr.  Howard,  and  the  latter  part  uf  it  is  his 

own  handwriting.      The  following  are  the  letters  referred  to  : — 

"You  ask  if  the  doctrine  of  vicarious  rewards  and  punishments  can  be  riglit;  if  it 
can  be  just  in  God  to  inflict  on  an  innocent  being  tlie  punisliment  due  to  the  offences 
and  Clinics  of  the  guilty.  I  should  be  ready  to  say  it  couhl  not.  unless  it  was  done 
by  tlie  voluntary  consent  of 'the  innocent  being  who  suffered,  and  for  the  acconi])lish- 
uient  of  some  important  end.  But  wiiat  is  just,  or  necessary,  or  consistent  with  the 
Divine  perfections,  I  do  not  know — I  scarcely  know  how  to  govern  a  single  family — 
my  wife  thinks  I  sometimes  err  in  that — but  it  is  very  evident  that  the  doctrine  of 
vicarious  suffering  is  clearly  and  fully  stated  in  the  word  of  God,  and  tlie  thing  itself 
is  exhibited  in  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  and  also  in  the  dispensations  of  Divine 
Providence. 

"  By  the  constitution  of  nature,  children  do  suffer  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  fiom  the 
sins  ot"  their  parents,  and  parents  by  the  sins  of  their  children — feeble  ami  sickly  con- 
stitutions, incurable  and  fatal  diseases,  generated  by  the  sins  of  parents,  are  t ran;  .nit- 
ted  to  their  children — riches  and  poverty,  often  acquired  by  the  wickedness  of  parents, 
are  also  transmitted  to  their  children, — sometimes  as  a  blessing,  but  more  frecjuently 
as  a  curse.  And  the  same  rule  is  observed  in  the  dispensations  of  Providence  to 
nations.  God  does  with  nations  as  he  does  with  individuals.  When  the  individual 
has  lilled  up  the  measure  of  his  iniquities  he  is  cut  off,  and  when  a  nation  has  lilled  up 
its  measure  it  is  destroyed,  and  the  sins  of  many  generations  are  visited  on  the  last, — • 
as  Christ  said  to  the  Jews,  '  Ye  are  the  children  of  them  which  killed  the  prophets, 
fill  ye  up  the  measure  of  your  fathers  that  upon  you  may  come  all  the  righteous  blood 
shed  upon  the  earth,  from  the  blood  of  righteous  Abel,' &c.  God  granted  the  land 
of  Canaan  to  the  posterity  nf  Abraham,  but  delayed  giving  possession  for  four  hun- 
dred years.  Why?  Because  the  iniquity  of  the  Amorites  was  not  yet  full  —  but  as 
soon  as  it  was  full,  he  visited  the  iniquities  of  many  generations  on  that  one,  which 
had  filled  up  the  measure,  and  destroyed  it.  The  whole  history  of  nations,  from  the 
Hood  to  this  day,  is  filled  with  records  of  similar  dispensations.  Vicarious  rewards 
and  luuiishmeiits  are  as  evidently  a  part  of  the  Divine  constitution  as  summer  and 
winter,  seed-time  and  harvest,  and  this  truth  is  as  fully  declared  in  the  word  of  God 
as  any  other  doctrine  contained  in  it.  It  is  very  clear  from  the  Scripture  that  sin  and 
sufieiing  and  death  came  into  the  world  by  tlie  disobedience  of  one  man — '  as  by  one 
man's  disobedience  many  were  made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience  of  one,  many  were 
made  righteous.  By  ou»  man  sin  entered  into  the  world  and  death  by  sin,  and  so  death 
passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned.'  It  is  very  obvious  that  infants  have  not 
sinne<l  in  their  own  persons,  but  it  is  very  certain  they  do  suffer  and  die,  and  not  on 
account  of  their  own  sins.  Perhajis  you  may  think  it  is  not  just  that  they  should 
suliVr  and  die,  in  consequence  of  Adam's  sin;  but  they  do,  for  "as  in  Adam  all  die.  so 
in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive' — as  they  have  suffered  and  died  in  consequence  of 
Adam's  sin  so  they  will  rise  and  be  happy  in  consequence  of  Christ's  sufferings." 

"  I  have  read  your  sermon  on  the  Doctrines  of  Grace  with  some  surprise  and  more 
sorrow — I  think  the  Doctrines  of  Natural  Jicligion  would  have  been  a  much  more 
suitable  title.  I  Could  find  nothing  of  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  in  the  sermon,  and 
less  than  nothing  of  that  apostolical  glorying  in  the  Cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
which  ought  to  characterize  every  sermon  on  that  subject.  When  I  had  finished  the 
sernioii,  the  following  thoughts  seemed  to  press  upon  my  mind: — If  Jesus  Christ  was 
wounded  for  our  transgressions, — if  it  did  please  the  Lord  to  bruise  ilim,  to  put  llini  to 
grief,  and  to  lay  on  Him  the  iniquities  of  us  all, — and  if  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed, 
— if  lie  did  agonize  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane, — if  He  did  endure  the  igiioniiny  and 
torture  of  the  cross, — and  if,  in  the  perfection  of  the  Divine  government  such  unpar- 
alleled sufferings  were  necessary  to  obtain  iiardon  and  salvation  for  us,  and  ensure  it 
to  all  who  believe, — then  is  not  the  author  of  such  a  sermon  guilty  of  deep,  deep,  deep 
ingratitude  to  Him  who  loved  us  with  a  love  stronger  than  death;  and,  when  we  were 
enemies,  gave  his  life  a  ransom  for  us  ?" 

FROM  THE  REV.  DANIEL  WALDO. 

Syracuse,  25  September,  1860. 
My  dear  Friend :     When  I  was  settled  at  West  Suffield  in  1792,  Mr.  How- 
ard of  Springfield  became  my  neighbour,  and  I  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting 
him  frequently  until  my  ministr}'  closed  there  in  1809.     I  remember  exchang- 
.ing  pulpits  with  him  once  or  twice,  and  often  saw  him  in  private  at  his  own 


BEZALEEL    HOWARD.  185 

house  and  elsewhere;  and  our  relations  were  always  fraternal  and  agreeable. 
About  the  time  that  I  left  SufiQeld,  or  perhaps  a  little  earlier,  he  lost  his  voice 
so  that  he  was  unable  to  preach,  and"!  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  met  him  after- 
wards. 

Mr.  Howard  was  a  man  of  excellent  common-sense,  and  great  knowledge  of 
the  world.  Ills  powers  of  conversation  were  remarkable.  He  talked  very 
calmljr  and  quietly,  and  yet  he  talked  so  sensibh'  that  he  could  hardly  fail  to 
be  listened  to  with  pleasure  and  profit.  Many  of  his  remarks  would  be  very 
quaint,  but  as  you  came  to  reflect  upon  tliem,  you  would  find  that  they  were 
full  of  meaning,  and  sometimes  very  weighty  meaning  too.  And  the  same 
chaiacteristic  belonged  to  his  preaching:  his  sermons  were  so  simple  that  a 
child  eight  years  old  could  comprehend  them;  but  there  would  sometimes  be 
condensed  into  one  of  those  simple  sentences  an  amount  of  sober,  practical 
thought,  which  it  would  take  the  oldest  and  wisest  man  in  his  congregation  a 
good  while  to  digest.  I  believe  his  sermons  always  contained  some  striking 
thoughts  or  expressions  that  were  pretty  sure  to  make  a  lodgement  in  the 
memories  of  his  hearers.  When  I  knew  him,  he  was  understood  to  be  an 
Arminian;  but  it  was  not  till  some  years  after  that  he  became  a  Unitarian.  I 
think  he  could  never  be  called  a  doctrinal  preacher — though  I  doubt  not  that 
the  doctrine  of  salvation  through  the  atonement  of  Christ  was  often  distinctly 
presented  in  his  discourses.  I  think  it  was  the  testimony  of  liis  stated  hear- 
ers that  his  sermons  were  chiefly  practical  in  the  sense  of  treating  of  Chris- 
tian duty. 

Dr.  Howard  was,  I  believe.,  always,  from  his  first  settlement  in  Springfield, 
on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  Dr.  Lathrop,  who  was  his  nearest  ministe- 
rial neighbour,  though  I  have  heard  it  said  that  he  dissented  strongly  from 
Dr.  Lathrop's  Sermon  on  the  doctrine  of  Election,  in  his  volume  on  the  Ephe- 
sians.  On  a  certain  occasion,  when  the  two  were  together,  the}'  agreed  both  to 
write  upon  the  same  text — "  He  that  tilleth  his  land  sliall  have  plenty  of  bread, 
but  he  that  folio weth  after  vain  persons  shall  have  poverty  enough."  At 
their  next  meeting.  Dr.  Howard  asked  Dr.  Lathrop  how  he  got  along  with,  his 
text.  "  Not  very  well,"  said  the  Doctor,,"  but  I  took  only  the  latter  part  of 
the  verse."  "  It  was  natural  enough,"  said  Dr.  H.,  "  that  you  should  make 
a  poor  .sermon  in  writing  about  poverty,  but  I  took  the  first  part  of  the  verse, 
that  treated  of  plenty,  and  got  along  very  well  with  it."  I  am  reminded  by 
this  of  a  piece  of  Dr.  Lathrop's  wit,  which  bore  rather  hard  upon  his  people, 
though,  as  it  was  a  bygone  generation,  I  suppose  I  may  venture  to  state  it. 
As  I  was  once  riding  with  him  by  the  old  church  on  the  common,  which  was, 
at  that  time,  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  curious  pieces  of  architecture  in  New 
England,  I  remarked  to  him  playfully  that  it  looked  very  much  like  a  distillery. 
"  If  it  were  a  distillery,"  said  he,  "  I  am  afraid  it  would  be  much  better 
attended  than  it  is  now." 

I  will  onl}'  add  that  Mr.  Howard  was  always  hospitable  and  friendly,  and 
enjoyed  the  confidence  and  affection  even  of  those  whose  standard  of  Chris- 
tian doctrine  some  would  have  thought  much  higher  than  his  own.  I  have 
heard  that  the  closing  part  of  his  life  was  eminently  peaceful. 

Yours  affectionately, 

DANIEL  WALDO. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  WILLARD,  D.  D. 

Deerfield,  January  7,  1850. 
Dear  Sir:     My  personal  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  Dr.  Howard   was  lim 
ited  to  the  twenty-five  years  beginning  in  1808,  and  ending  in  1833.     What  he 
was,  and  did,  and  experienced,  in  his  earlier  and  his  later  years,  I  shall,  there- 
fore, leave  to  the  testimony  of  those  who  have  better  means  of  information 


186  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

than  I  can  pretend  to.  During  the  period  mentioned  above,  I  visited  Spring- 
field ten  or  eleven  times;  and,  in  some  instances,  passed  two  or  three  daj'S 
there,  and  several  times  lodged  at  his  house;  but  such  were  his  domestic 
habits,  that  I  never  met  him  in  any  other  place  than  Springfield.  There  are 
few  incidents  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life  to  furnish  materials  for  narration, 
and  I  shall  do  little  more  than  to  give  my  general  views  of  his  character. 

In  his  outward  person.  Dr.  Howard  was  above  the  middle  stature,  and 
might,  I  tliink,  be  called  a  large  man;  and  the  strength  and  compass  of  his 
mind  appeared  to  me  still  more  above  what  are  common.  From  incidental 
remarks  and  criticisms,  I  should  think  probable  that,  in  his  collegiate  course, 
he  had  been  distinguished  for  his  scientific  attainments;  that  he  had  main- 
tained an  honourable  competition  with  such  classmates  as  John  Davis,  Sam- 
uel Dexter,  and  Elijah  Paine;  and  that,  in  later  years,  he  had  continued 
to  pay  more  or  less  attention  to  philosophical  subjects.  This,  liowever,  is 
nothing  more  than  a  probable  inference  drawn  from  the  critical  remarks  he 
sometimes  made,  and  the  strong  and  comprehensive  grasp  with  whicli  he  took 
liold  of  the  more  solid  subjects  to  which  he  directed  his  attention. 

Some  of  the  most  prominent  characteristics  of  Dr.  Howard  were,  I  think, 
thotightfulness,  sensibility,  sincerity  and  frankness.  That  he  was  habitually 
thoughtful  or  contimplativ&,  I  suppose  no  one  who  was  much  acquainted  with 
him  could  ever  doubt.  As  little  can  it  be  questioned  that  he  thought  to  a 
good  purpose.  The  high  relation  between  man  and  his  Maker,  and  the  duties 
resulting  from  that  relation,  were  his  favourite  themes  of  thought  and  con- 
versation. He  was  eminently  a  moralist,  a  Ciiristian  moralist,  a  moralist  in 
the  deep  and  broad  signilicance  of  the  woid.  On  this  subject  he  had  a  pecul- 
iar facult}'^  of  deriving  instruction  from  almost  every  thing  lie  saw  or  heard, 
from  every  thing  visible  and  invisible,  through  the  widest  range  the  human 
mind  is  allowed  to  traverse;  and  this  faculty  was  exercised  in  thisVay  till 
it  became  one  of  the  principal  habits  of  his  life. 

Another  of  his  characteristics,  as  I  have  said  above,  was  sensibility.  His 
heart  appeared  to  be  deeply  affected  by  the  solemn  and  sublime  truths  on 
which  his  mind  was  so  much  employed.  "While  he  mused,  the  fire  burned," 
not  with  transient  flashes,  but  with  a  permanent  warmth,  which  prepai'ed 
him  for  every  duty  toward  God  and  man.  It  is  generally  supposed  that  old 
men  feel  less  than  those  who  are  young,  although  they  may  be  more  undevia- 
ting  in  the  discharge  of  every  duty  than  those  who  are  in  the  meridian  or 
earlier  stages  of  life.  Dr.  Howard,  however,  seemed  to  be  an  exception  to  the 
common  rule.  In  his  old  age,  the  public  services  of  religion,  Avhich  were  of 
such  a  nature  as  to  affect  the  j^oung,  wrought  as  powerfully  on  his  sensibilities 
as  the}'-  did  on  those  of  persons  much  j^ounger,  though  perhaps  in  a  more  calm 
and  silent  manner. 

Sincerity  was  mentioned  above,  as  another  characteristic  of  Dr.  Howard. 
He  gave  the  most  satisfactory  evidence  that  he  believed  what  he  professed  to 
believe,  and  felt  all  that  he  appeared  to  feel.  Like  Nathaniel,  he  was  an  "Is- 
raelite indeed,  in  whom  there  was  no  guile."  Everybody  knew  that  with  him, 
yea  meant  yea,  and  nay,  nay,  without  equivocation  or  reserve. 

To  specify  no  more,  another  striking  characteristic  was  frankness.  <«  Out 
of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh."  He  was  too  much 
impressed  with  the  importance  of  religious  truth  and  duty,  to  keep  his 
thoughts  and  feelings  to  himself,  when  there  was  a  fair  opportunit)'',  by  giv- 
ing them  utterance,  to  promote  the  cause  which  ever  lay  near  his  heart. 
With  the  old  and  the  young,  with  friends  and  strangers,  he  was  ready  to 
express  his  approbation  of  what  was  good,  and  to  express  his  dissent  from 
what  appeared  to  him  evil,  and,  if  needful,  to  remonstrate  against  it.  At 
ihe  same  time,  his  commendation  was  not  flattery,  nor  his  expostulation,  in- 


BEZALEEL    HOWARD.  187 

vective  or  reproach.  An  instance  may  illustrate  his  manner.  In  the  latter  part 
of  his  life,  he  met  a  stranger  in  the  market,  who  was  stating,  with  much 
apparent  satisfaction,  the  success  he  had  had  in  some  of  his  worldly  inte- 
rests, when  Dr.  Howard  addressed  him  in  the  following  words,  or  something 
of  the  like  import — "You  appear,  Sir,  to  be  prosperous  in  your  temporal 
affairs — are  your  spiritual  interests  equally  so  ?"  The  gentleman,  in  appar- 
ently good  humour,  replied — '<  That  is  a  thing  which  ought  to  be  thought  of." 

The  characteristics  named  above,  and  others  which  might  be  mentioned, 
gave  to  the  conversation  of  Dr.  Howard  a  solidity  and  moral  effect  which  is 
rarely  to  be  met  with.  Indeed,  were  I  to  name  three  persons  among  all  those 
with  whom  I  have  ever  been  acquainted,  who  excelled  all  others  in  edifying 
conversation.  Dr.  Howard  would  be  one  of  the  three,  and  the  other  two  would 
be  Dr.  Lathrop,  of  West  Springfield,  and  Dr.  William  E.  Channing. 

In  religious  speculation.  Dr.  Howard  professed  himself  a  Trinitarian  till 
about  the  year  1819,  when,  by  existing  circumstances,  he  was  led  to  re-exam- 
ine the  subject  by  a  careful  perusal  of  the  New  Testament  with  reference  to 
this  single  point.  The  result  was  a  change  of  faith,  but  not  so  great  a  change 
as  often  takes  place  in  similar  circumstances.  On  religious  subjects  he  was 
generally  conservative.  To  the  day  of  his  death,  I  presume,  he  held  fast  the 
doctrine  of  atonement  in  a  sense  which  many  "would  regard  as  Calvinistic; 
and  on  some  other  points,  his  views,  I  suppose,  were  such  as  would  harmo- 
nize as  well  with  those  of  the  orthodox  as  with  those  of  most  Unitarians;  but 
Avhatever  stress  he  might  lay  on  mere  speculative  points,  the  spirit  and  prac- 
tice of  Christianity  were  far  more  dear  to  his  soul. 

Yours,  with  much  respect  and  esteem, 

SAMUEL  WILLARD. 

FROM  MISS  MARGARET  T.  EMERY. 

Hartford,  October  21,  18G2. 

My  dear  Friend:  I  will  endeavour,  agreeably  to  your  request,  to  note  down 
a  few  recollections  of  our  lamented  friend  Dr.  Howard — but  oh!  how  the 
images  on  the  stream  of  time  fade  away,  as  we  draw  near  the  great  ocean  of 
eternity!  It  is  now  almost  half  a  century  since  I,  then  in  the  dew  of  my 
youth,  first  became  acquainted  with  that  venerable  man.  I  remember  him  as 
a  tall,  stooping,  spare  figure,  with  a  large  head,  and  a  face  naturally  grave, 
but  easily  taking  on  a  most  kindly  and  cheerful  smile.  He  seemed  so  unworldly, 
so  patriarchal,  that  I  almost  felt  that  I  had  gone  back  a  century  in  the  world's 
age.  At  the  dinner  table,  he  and  his  wife  sat  side  by  side, —  her  face  bearing 
the  remains  of  great  beauty  —  one  charm  she  retained  to  the  last, —  her  soft, 
hazel,  dove-like  eye.  Their  children  were  all  around  the  table,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  lovely  daughter,  who  died  in  the  bloom  of  youth  a  few  years 
earlier.  I  was  much  struck  with  his  style  of  conversation;  and,  though  many 
might  have  thought  it  too  much  like  preaching,  it  showed  how  much  he  felt 
the  responsibility  of  speech,  and  how  careful  he  was  to  redeem  time.  His 
way  of  introducing  Scripture,  in  connection  with  the  business  of  common  life, 
was  very  peculiar.  For  instance,  as  he  saw  one  suffering  under  the  infliction 
of  a  dull  knife,  he  said, — "  If  the  iron  be  blunt,  and  he  do  not  whet  the  edge, 
then  must  he  put  to  more  strength."  And  again,  to  some  one  who  observed, 
on  a  cloudy  day,  that  it  was  breaking  away  at  the  North,  he  said, — "  Fair 
weather  cometh  out  of  the  North,"  &c.  He  loved  cheerfulness,  and  used  to 
say  that  a  hearty  laugh  was  the  best  medicine  in  the  world;  and  he  greatly 
enjoyed  "  the  wit  that  loved  to  play,  not  wound."  But  it  must  be  confessed 
that  there  was  something  a  little  brusque  in  his  manners  at  times,  and  he 
rather  liked  to  hit  hard  blows  then.     How  he  bore  retaliation,  I  suspect  no 


188  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

one  had  an  opportunity  of  knowing, —  so  great  was  the  reverence  in  which  he 
was  held. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Howard's  settlement,  he  was  married  to  a  daughter  of  Jon- 
athan Dwight,  Esq.,  one  of  the  fathers  of  the  town.  In  those  early  days  Mr. 
Howard  ventured  the  opinion,  in  the  presence  of  his  father-in-law,  that  there 
might  yet  be  a  bridge  built  over  Connecticut  River,  then  crossed  by  a  ferry 
boat.  "  He  must  be  a  ver}"-  j^oung  man  indeed  who  expects  to  see  that,"  was 
Mr.  D wight's  repl}'.  Yet  he  lived  to  see  one  or  two  bridges  run  down  the 
stream  before  the  present  one  was  built.  Dr.  Howard's  wife  was  lovely  in 
mind  and  person,  but  she  did  not  survive  her  marriage  much  more  than  two 
years.  She  left  a  daughter,  remembered  still  as  exercising  a  most  attractive 
hospitalitj',  and  as  being  most  tenderly  thoughtful  of  the  poor  and  suffering. 
Dr.  H.  declared  that,  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  all  nature  seemed  to  him  cov- 
ered with  a  black  veil.  Four  years  after  her  death  he  was  married  to  the  sister 
of  Judge  AVilliams  of  Hartford;  and  one  of  the  most  charming  traits  in  the  char- 
acter of  his  daughter,  by  the  first  marriage,  was  her  filial  devotion  to  this 
second  mother,  whose  excellences  so  well  entitled  her  to  it.  She  (the  mother) 
■was  a  most  gentle  being,  of  very  calm  exterior,  seeming  to  live  in  a  world  of 
her  own,  and  almost  unfit  to  cope  with  the  harsher  world  without.  But  her 
husband  had  a  lemarkable  business  faculty,  which  nothing  escaped;  and  this 
attention  to  the  smallest  matters  did  not  seem  und*ignified  in  him.  He  was  very 
skilful  and  exact  in  pecuniar}''  matters;  and,  while  careful  to  do  justly,  he 
showed  that  he  loved  mercy.  His  purse,  house  and  heart  were  always  open 
to  the  needy;  but  his  charity  was  exercised  with  so  much  caution  and  discrimi- 
nation that  I  doubt  if  he  was  ever  imposed  upon.  He  lived  so  plainly  that 
those  most  disposed  to  fault  finding  could  never  accuse  him  of  extravagance 
in  respect  to  either  food  or  clothing.  And  do  3'ou  remember  the  primitive  fur- 
niture—  the  chairs  that  seemed  to  enforce  the  lesson  that  we  are  not  to  look 
for  rest  on  earth;  the  bookcase,  with  those  odd  engravings  behind  the  glass 
doors,  setting  forth  female  industry  in  all  its  varieties;  and  that  light  of  other 
days, —  the  great  wood-fire.''  And  do  you  not  remember  the  beautiful  stair- 
way, so  suggestive  of  easy,  undulatory,  upward  motion.^  The  house  was  a 
sort  of  halting  place  for  wayfarers.  A  woman  once  stopped  there  who  had 
walked  ten  miles  to  see  a  man  hung  in  Springfield.  "You  have  walked  a  great 
way,"  said  Dr.  Howard.  "Yes,  Sir,  it  does  seem  to  be  a  making  a  tile  (toil) 
of  a  pleasure,"  was  the  answer.  A  couple  came  there  to  be  married.  Dr.  II. 
said  to  the  bridegroom, — "Where  is  tlie  place  of  your  nativity?"  "Well, 
it's  sometimes  Long  Meadow,  and  sometimes  Wilbraham,  but  now  I  think  it 
Avill  be  Springfield." 

He  showed  a  fatherly  care  for  all  under  his  roof,  and  was  anxious  that  the 
servants  should  spend  their  wages  in  the  manner  most  advantageous  to  them. 
They  were  always  required  to  be  present  at  fiimily  worship,  and  he  was  care- 
ful to  have  them  understand  what  they  read  and  heard.  I  heard  him  say,  a 
few  years  before  he  died,  that  he  had  read  the  Bible  through  twenty-eight 
times  in  family  worship,  and  that  he  had  found  something  new  in  it  every  time. 
He  had  no  patience  with  carelessly  prepared  sermons.  He  maintained  that 
we  should  always  bring  beaten  oil  to  the  sanctuary;  but  no  matter  how  able 
a  sermon  might  be,  he  regarded  it  as  radically  defective  if  it  had  nothing  of 
Christ  in  it.  His  eyesight  had  become  very  imperfect  several  years  before  I 
knew  him,  so  that  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  read;  but  he  loved  to  have  the 
young  people  of  the  family,  some  of  whom  were  orphans  committed  to  his 
charge,  read  to  him.  The  reading  was  always  rendered  instructive,  not  only 
by  a  judicious  choice  of  books,  but  by  the  very  pertinent  and  often  impressive 
commentary  that  he  would  make  upon  what  was  read. .   When  these  had  passed 


BEZALEEL    HOWARD.  189 

away  to  homes  of  their  own,  there  were  always  some  who  felt  it  a  great  pri- 
vilege to  supply  their  place. 

Of  the  change  which  Dr.  Howard's  religious  views  underwent  in  his  latter 
years,  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  you  are  of  course  apprized,  though 
I  am  inclined  to  tliink  that  his  opinions  on  the  subject  did  not  become  very 
definite,  and  that  he  was  rather  dispo.sed  to  rest  in  the  idea  that  "  Christ 
had  a  name  written  that  no  man  knew  but  Himself."  While  his  mind  was 
yet  in  an  inquiring  state  on  this  subject,  he  and  some  of  his  brother  clergy- 
men were  discussing  it  on  some  occasion  when  they  had  met.  "  Now,"  said 
Dr.  Howard,  suppose  that,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  they  should  be  found  to 
be  right  and  we  in  the  wrong — "  <<  We  should  be  confounded,"  said  one  of 
the  number,  bringing  his  hand  heavily  upon  the  table.  <<Yes,"  said  Dr.  How- 
ard, "  but  we  should  not  be  condimnsd." 

Once,  when  conversing  upon  the  future  state  of  the  Heathen,  he  said,  with 
a  look  of  the  deepest  solemnity, — "  I  am  far  more  anxious  about  the  state  of 
the  nominally  Christian  world  than  of  the  Heathen."  He  then  mentioned 
that,  many  years  ago,  an  avowed  infidel  lay  on  his  death-bed,  in  Springfield; 
and,  being  surrounded  with  persons  who  were  anxious  to  bring  him  to  a  bet- 
ter state  of  mind,  the  dying  man  broke  out  in  tliis  fearful  expression, — "  I  do 
not  believe  one  single  word  you  say  —  if  you  thought  your  religion  was  true, 
you  would  live  very  differently." 

I  remember  his  speaking  in  terms  of  great  admiration  of  Dr.  Mason  of  New 
York, —  a  bright  light  in  his  day.  They  had  met  and  enjoyed  their  meeting, 
and  Dr.  Mason  had  given  him  a  very  urgent  invitation  to  visit  him  in  New 
York.  It  so  happened  that  the  next  time  he  went  to  thatcitj'-,  he  did  not  arrive 
until  Saturday  evening, —  too  late  to  report  himself  to  the  Doctor  before  the 
Sabbath.  On  going  to  his  church  the  next  day,  he  perceived  that  it  was  the 
day  of  their  Communion.  On  his  expressing  a  v.'ish  to  one  of  the  officers  of 
the  church  to  unite  with  them,  he  was  told  he  could  not  do  so.  according  to 
their  rules,  unless  he  could  show  his  certificate  of  church-membership.  Not 
expecting  any  emergency  of  tliis  kind,  he  had,  of  course,  no  such  document 
with  him;  and,  going  into  the  gallery,  he  prepared  himself  to  commune  with 
them,  at  least  in  spirit.  But  Dr.  Jlason's  quick  eye  soon  discovered  his  old 
friend,  and  he  beckoned  him  down  to  join  in  their  service.  Dr.  Howard 
spoke  with  the  greatest  admiration  of  the  pertinence,  solemnity  and  majesty 
of  the  whole  exercise  — his  prayers,  he  said,  were  charactciized  by  the  great- 
est fervour  and  power,  without  the  least  repetition. 

As  time  went  on,  Dr.  Howard  seemed  more  visibly  preparing  for  eternity. 
He  conversed  less,  and  evidently  thought  less,  about  the  things  that  are  seen 
and  are  temporal.  He  was  very  fond  of  Astronomy;  and  it  was  a  favourite 
idea  with  him  that  the  centre  around  which  the  Solar  System  revolves  might 
be  the  throne  of  God.  He  talked  more  and  more  of  departed  friends,  and 
observed  that,  when  he  dreamed  of  them,  they  appeared  to  him  with  more 
beauty  and  dignity  than  when  they  were  on  earth.  He  often  spoke  of  a  dream 
he  had  concerning  her  whose  loss  so  overshadowed  his  early  life.  He  thought 
he  had  been  preaching  in  the  country, —  that  he  had  closed  the  services  and 
was  descending  the  pulpit  stairs,  when  he  recognized  this  beloved  wife  in  the 
congregation.  He  sprang  forAvard  to  meet  her,  conscious  that  she  was  no  lon- 
ger an  inhabitant  of  this  world,  and  eagerly  asked, — "Are  you  happy?' 
"  Yes,"  said  she,  "but  not  so  happy  as  I  shall  be."  "But  are  you  not 
happier  than  you  were  on  earth?"  "Oh  yes,  but  it  is  very  diff'erent  from 
what  you  and  I  thought  it  was,  when  we  used  to  talk  about  it."  He  greatly 
enjoyed  Mrs.  Fletcher's  remarkable  "  Essay  upon  Communion  with  Happy 
Spirits,"  contained  in  her  Life.  "  I  have  had,"  he  said,  "  no  more  doubt 
that  we  shall  know  one  another  hereafter,  than  of  my  own  existence;  but  I 


190  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

could  not  have  tliought  there  coiiUl  be  so  many  arguments  for  it,  brought, 
from  both  Reason  and  Scripture,  as  that  woman  has  produced."  Nor  was  he 
less  gratified  by  the  succinct  argument  of  an  old  Welsh  minister,  who,  when 
his  wife  asked  him, — <'  John  Evans,  dost  thou  think  we  shall  know  each  other 
in  the  next  world?" — answered, — "  To  be  sure,  do  you  think  we  shall  be 
greater  fools  there  than  we  are  here?" 

A  few  years  before  Dr.  Howard's  death  he  had  a  sudden  attack  of  illness, 
which,  it  was  feared,  would  prove  fatal.  It  was  beautiful  to  see  the  almost 
joyous  manner  of  his  wife  on  his  recovery — his  daughter-in-law  remarked 
that  she  really  seemed  like  a  young  bride  — the  lapse  of  years  had  evidently 
had  the  effect  to  bring  them  more  full}^  into  the  Christian  unity  of  marriage. 
He  regarded  this  illness  as  a  warning  to  be  "  ever  standing  on  his  guard, 
watching  unto  prayer."  So  when  the  mighty  messenger  came,  he  was  found 
ready  to  meet  the  summons.  I  was  ill  at  the  time  of  his  last  sickness,  and  it 
was  a  grief  to  me  that  I  could  not  at  least  touch  the  mantle  of  the  departing 
saint.  From  the  nature  of  his  malady,  he  was  not  able  to  say  much;  but  I 
heard  that  he  said,  referring  to  the  most  trying  circumstances  of  his  illness, — 
«'  Be  thankful  that  you  can  breathe  and  speak  without  pain."  Some  time  be- 
fore, when  conversing  with  a  friend  who  was  speaking  of  the  desirableness  of  an 
easy  death,  and  whether  this  were  not  a  fitting  subject  for  prayer,  he  seemed 
to  think  that  he  should  leave  all  with  God.  It  was  answered  that  we  were 
allowed  to  pray  for  earthlj'^  comforts  with  submission.  I  never  knew  whether 
this  opinion  of  his  remained  unchanged.  However,  the  suffering  was  over  a 
little  before  death,  and  the  actual  departure  was  so  peaceful  that  Mrs.  How- 
ard was  not  aware  of  it  till  Mr.  Peabody  said,  — <<  Shall  we  pray?" 

She  lived  quietly  on  in  the  room  so  long  consecrated  by  prayers  and  pious 
conversation,  withdrawing  more  and  more  from  a  world  she  never  cared  to 
mingle  with.  She  found  her  chief  solace  in  the  Bible,  in  holy  hymns,  prayers 
and  alms;  for,  like  her  husband,  she  was  a  ready  and  cheerful  giver.  There 
was  something  about  her  that  might  have  seemed  cold  to  those  who  did  not 
look  beneath  the  surface.  When  her  only  daughter  died,  one  of  those  persons 
thought  that  she  bore  the  trial  very  well, —  perhaps  a  little  too  well  to  con- 
sist with  strong  maternal  affection.  But  when  one  who  knew  her  well,  entered 
the  room  of  sorrow,  she  stretched  out  her  arms  to  her,  and  burst  into  tears, 
crying  out, —  "  Is  this  submission?"  A  few  years  after  Margaret  died,  they 
lost  a,  son, —  the  Benjamin  of  the  family,  in  the  flower  of  his  age.  When  the 
bereaved  mother  was  told  that  she  had  other  children,  she  said  it  seemed  like 
a  new  idea  to  her.  Only  one  son  survived  her.  Death  came  to  her  in  the 
gentlest  form.  She  had  a  severe  cold,  but  they  scarcely  considered  her  in  a 
dangerous  condition.  Her  son  was  in  the  room  with  her,  and  his  daughters 
too,  who  watched  her  with  the  tenderest  care.  Though  her  life  had  been  so 
long  a  preparation  for  death,  she  had  never  lost  her  dread  of  the  last  conflict. 
But  in  its  near  approach  she  had  no  terror;  for  she  passed  away  in  a  gentle 
slumber;  and  so  «<  God  gave  his  beloved  sleep." 

Your  sincere  friend, 

MARGARET  T.  EMERY. 


NOAH   WORCESTER.  191 

NOAH  AVORCESTER,  D.  B* 

1786—1837. 

Noah  Worcester  was  born  at  ITollis,  N.  II.,  November  25,1758,  He 
was  a  son  of  Noah  Worcester,  a  man  of  an  active  and  energetic  mind,  and 
one  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitution  of  the  State  of  New  Hampshire. 
His  paternal  grandfutlicr  was  the  Rev.  Francis  Worcester,  who  was,  for 
some  tin)e,  Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Sandwich,  Mass.,  and  who  died  in  Hollis 
in  1783.  The  llev.  Francis  Worcester  was  the  great-grandson  of  the  Rev. 
William  Worcester,  who  came  from  Salisbury  in  England,  and  was  the  first 
minister  of  the  Church  in  Salisbury,  IMass.,  which  was  organized  in  1638, 

Noah  Worcester  exhibited  evidences  of  remarkable  conscientiousness 
from  his  earliest  years.  From  the  age  of  twelve,  he  was  accustomed,  in 
the  alisence  of  his  father,  to  conduct  the  morning  and  evening  worship  of 
the  family.  From  his  childhood  he  evinced  a  great  fondness  for  reading, 
and  his  proficiency  in  the  difi"erent  elementary  branches  which  he  was  taught 
at  school,  witnessed  to  both  his  strong  thirst  for  knowledge  and  the  faith- 
ful improvement  of  his  limited  advantages.  His  opportunities  for  going 
to  school  ceased  altogether  in  the  winter  of  1774-75,  when  he  was  but 
sixteen  years  old. 

In  tlie  spring  of  1775,  when  the  War  of  the  Revolution  begun,  he  joined 
the  army  as  a  fifer,  and  continued  in  the  service  about  eleven  months.  He 
was  at  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  where  he  narrowly  escaped  being  taken 
prisoner.  In  the  campaign  of  1777,  he  was  in  the  army  again  for  two 
months,  acting  as  Fife-Major  ;  and,  during  this  period,  it  was  his  fortune  to 
be  in  the  battle  of  Bennington.  Part  of  the  interval  between  his  two  periods 
of  military  service  he  spent  in  the  family  of  his  uncle,  Francis  Worcester, 
at  Plymouth,  whither  he  had  gone  with  a  view  to  engage  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  maple  sugar.  At  this  time,  he  became  attached  and  engaged  to 
his  uncle's  step-daughter,  Hannah  Brown,  a  fine  girl  of  sixteen,  who  was 
everyway  suited  to  render  him  happy  in  the  matrimonial  connection.  Here, 
too,  during  the  winter  of  1776-77,  he  first  engaged  in  teaching  a  school  ; 
and,  though  he  had  had  only  the  most  meagre  opportunities  for  qualifying 
himself  for  such  an  employment,  his  services  gave  great  satisfaction,  and  he 
continued  to  be  thus  occupied  during  nine  successive  winters.  All  this 
time  he  was  himself  a  diligent  student,  though  his  means  for  acquiring 
knowledge  were  very  stinted,  as  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  during 
the  first  summer  he  passed  at  Plymouth,  he  used  birch  bark  to  write  upon 
instead  of  paper,  and  until  then  had  never  had  the  privilege  of  looking 
into  a  Dictionary. 

In  September,  1778,  he  purchased  of  his  father  what  remained  of  his 
minority,  and  removed  to  Plymouth  with  the  expectation  of  spend- 
ing his  life  in  farming,  except  so  far  as  he  might  be  engaged  as  a 
teacher.  Here  he  was  married,  the  next  year,  on  the  day  that  he  reached 
the  age  of  twenty-one.     In  February,  1782,  he  removed  from  Plymouth 

*  Memoir  by  Dr.  Henry  Ware,  jr. —  American  Almanac,  1849. —  Ms.  from  his  nephew,— 
Dr.  Samuel  M,  Worcester. 


192  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

to  Thornton,  a  small  town  a  few  miles  distant.  His  religious  views  and 
feelingvS  now  became  more  decided,  and,  in  August  following,  both  himself 
and  his  wife  liecame  members  of  the  Congregational  church,  under  the 
pastoral  care  of  tlie  llev.  Experience  Estabrook.* 

From  this  time  he  accustomed  himself  to  a  course  of  rigorous  mental 
discipline,  especially  in  writing  dissertations  on  various  theological  ques- 
tions that  were  presented  to  his  consideration.  In  order  to  this,  he  was 
obliged  to  practise  the  most  rigid  economy  in  respect  to  time  ;  for  he  had 
a  growing  family  to  provide  for,  who  were  entirely  dependent  upon  his 
labour.  At  this  period  he  worked  considerably  at  the  business  of  shoe- 
making  ;  but  even  when  he  was  thus  engaged,  he  always  had  his  pen  and 
ink  at  hand  to  note  down  every  bright  thought  that  occurred  to  him. 

In  the  year  1785,  he  addressed  a  Letter,  through  the  press,  to  the  Kev. 
John  Murray,  in  reference  to  a  Sermon  which  the  latter  had  published  on 
the  "  Origin  of  Evil."  This  bronglit  him  considerably  into  notice,  and 
prepared  the  way  for  his  being  introduced  into  the  ministry.  The  Rev. 
Selden  Church, t  a  respectable  minister  of  tlie  neighbouring  town  of  Camp- 
ton,  holding  the  views  of  the  Ilopkinsian  school,  first  proposed  to  him  to 
become  a  Preacher  of  the  Gospel,  This  led  him  to  converse  with  other 
ministers  and  friends  on  the  subject,  and  the  result  was  that  he  actually 
offered  himself  for  examination  by  the  Association  within  whose  bounds 
he  resided,  and  they  readily  gave  him  a  license  to  preach.  This  was  in 
the  year  1786.     He  preached  his  first  sermon  at  Boscawen,  N.  H. 

Mr.  Worcester's  preaching  was,  from  the  beginning,  highly  acceptable; 
and  the  Rev.  3Ir.  Estabrook,  of  Thornton,  being  desirous  to  resign  his  pas- 
toral charge,  recommended  him  as  a  suitable  person  to  become  his  successor. 
Mr.  Worcester,  having  spent  the  subsequent  winter  in  teaching  school, 
preached  at  Thornton,  as  a  candidate,  for  several  months,  in  the  spring  and 
summer,  and,  on  the  18th  of  October  following,  was  ordained  and  installed 
Pastor  of  that  church.  He  had  lived  in  the  town  five  years  and  a  half, 
during  which  time  he  had  been  Schoolmaster,  Select-man,  Town-clerk,  Jus- 
tice of  the  peace,  and  Representative  to  the  General  Court,  and  the  people 
were  now  glad  to  welcome  him  iji  tl)e  yet  more  important  relation  of  a 
Minister  of  the  Gospel.  His  salary  being  but  two  hundred  dollars,  and 
the  whole  of  that  being  rarely,  if  ever,  paid,  he  was  obliged  to  resort  to 
other  means  for  the  support  of  his  family  ;  and  he  made  up  the  deficiency, 
partly  by  labouring  on  his  farm,  and  partly  by  making  shoes.  He,  also, 
in  cases  in  which  the  provision  for  the  winter  school  failed,  performed 
gratuitously  the  service  of  a  teacher  to  the  children  in  his  neiglibourhood. 

In  November,  1797,  he  met  with  a  severe  affliction  in  the  death  of  his  wife, 
under  peculiarly  trying  circumstances.  Her  death  was  occasioned  by  her 
falling  from  a  horse  on  Thanksgiving  Day.  The  afflicted  husband  preached 
to  his  people  on  the  next  Sabbath,  from  ii  Cor.  i,  3,  4  ;  and  he  remarked, 
after  he  was  far  advanced  in  life,  that  he  never  witnessed  a  more  solemn 

*  ExPEniKNCK  EsTAKROOK  waslidrnin  Kehoboth,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth 
College  in  1770;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Thornton,  August  10, 
1780;  was  dismissed  October  18,  1787;  was  installed  at  Plainfield,  N.  11.  shortly  after ;  was 
dismissed  May  9,  1792;  and  died  in  Thornton  in  1810. 

t  Seldkn  Ciiimrii  was  a  native  of  East  Iladdam,  Conn.;  was  graduated  at  Yale  College 
in  1765;  was  settled  as  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Campton,  N.  II.  in  October  1774;  was  dis- 
missed in  1792;  and  died  in  1802.. 


NOAH   WORCESTER.  193 

assembly  than  on  that  occasion.  Mrs.  Worcester  had  the  reputation  of 
possessing  uucomtnonly  fine  intellectual,  as  well  as  moral  and  Clirislian, 
qualities. 

Mr.  Worcester  being  left  in  charge  of  a  large  family  of  children  under 
circumstances  of  peculiar  embarrassment,  many  of  his  friends,  and  among 
them  (he  sisters  of  his  deceased  wife,  advised  him  to  form  a  second  matri- 
monial relation,  without  any  unnecessary  delay  ;  and,  accordingly,  on  the 
22d  of  May,  1798,  he  was  married  to  Hannah  Huntington,  a  native  of  Nor- 
wich, Connecticut,  then  residing  in  Hanover,  N.  H.  This  estimable  lady 
contributed  greatly  to  his  own  happiness  and  the  welfare  of  his  family,  and 
died  al)out  five  years  before  him. 

In  1802,  when  the  New  Hampshire  Missionary  Society  was  formed,  Mr. 
Worcester  was  employed  as  its  first  missionary;  and,  in  that  character,  he 
travelled  and  preached  extensively  in  the  Northern  part  of  New  Hampshire, 
during  the  autumn  of  that  year  and  the  summer  of  1804. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1806,  he  met  with  a  serious  accident, — 
the  partial  rupture  of  the  muscles  from  the  tendons  of  his  legs.  In  conse- 
quence of  this,  he  was  obliged,  for  many  months,  to  forego  all  exercise-; 
and  this  brought  on  dropsical  tendencies  which  did  not  leave  him  for  sev- 
eral years.  Indeed,  he  never  recovered  his  muscular  power,  but  was 
always,  after  this,  oppressed,  in  no  inconsiderable  degree,  with  bodily  infir- 
mity. He  had  naturally  a  very  vigorous  constitution,  and,  up  to  this  time, 
nothing  had  occurred  to  impair  it. 

In  tlie  autumn  of  1809,  he  received  an  invitation  from  Salisbury  to 
remove  tliitlicr,  and  take  charge,  for  a  season,  of  the  congregation  of  which 
his  brother  Thomas*  was  Pastor,  though  then  disabled  for  active  labour  by 

•  Thomas  Worcester,  a  son  of  Noah  Worcester,  was  born  at  HoUis,  N.  H.,  November  22,, 
1768.  His  native  endowments  were  of  a  high  order.  Without  means  of  defra3'ing  the  expense 
of  a  collegiate  education,  and  being  twenty  or  more  years  of  age  when  he  became  decided  in 
his  purpose  to  preach  the  Gospel,  if  God  should  permit,  he  pursued  a  course  of  studies, 
literary  and  theological,  under  the  direction  more  particularly  of  the  Kev.  Daniel  Emerson, 
of  his  native  town.  He  wa?  ordained,  and  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church 
in  Salisbury,  N.  H.,  November  9,  1791.  Strong  objections  were  made  to  his  Ordination  by 
members  of  the  Council,  chiefly  on  the  ground  that  he  had  not  received  a  liberal  education. 
The  father  of  Daniel  Webster,  after  much  delay  of  proceedings,  addressed  the  Council  in  a 
speech  of  great  power,  in  which  he  said, — "Mr.  Moderator,  We  chose  this  young  man,  Sir, 
to  be  our  minister.  We  are  satisfied  with  him.  We  feel  competent  to  choose  for  ourselves. 
We  invited  this  Council,  Sir,  to  ordain  him.  But  if  you  don't  see  fit  to  do  it,' — he  added 
with  determined  emphasis, — "  wc  shall  call  a  Council  that  will."  Mr.  Worcester  had  "  a 
mind  to  work,"  and  he  made  himself  a  really  distinguished  clergyman  among  those  who 
would  not  lay  hands  suddenly,  if  at  all,  upon  the  head  of  any  man  who  had  not  received  a 
college  diploma.  He  was  highly  gifted  with  powers  of  natural  eloquence.  He  adopted  the 
views  of  his  brother  Nonh,  as  presented  in  the  "Bible  News."  On  this  account,  and  also 
from  the  failure  of  his  health,  he  was  dismissed  by  a  Mutual  Council,  April  21,  1823,  and 
ever  afterwards  remained  without  a  pastoral  charge.  He  died  December  24,  18.'U.  He 
received  the  Honorary  Degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  from  Dartmouth  College  in  1806.  The  fol- 
lowing is  a  list  of  his  publications: — A  Thanlisgiving  Sermon,  delivered  at  Salisbury,  1795. 
The  Solemnity  of  Marriage  illustrated,  in  a  Sermon  from  John  ii,  1,  1798.  An  Oration  on 
the  Anniversary  of  American  Independence,  1798.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Moses 
Sawyer  [who  was  born  in  Salisbury,  N.  H.,  in  1776;  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth  College  in 
1799;  was  ordained,  and  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  church  in  Henniker,  N.  H.,  May  26,  1802; 
was  dismissed  March  29,  1826  ;  was  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  Second  Church  in  Scarborough, 
Me.,  September  18,  1828;  was  dismissed  April  21,  1830;  and  died  in  1847.]  Little  Chil- 
dren of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  only  by  the  Blessing  of  Christ:  A  Sermon,  1803.  Two  Ser- 
mons on  the  Government  and  Pteligious  Education  of  Children,  1804.  A  Sermon  entitled 
"The  Fifth  Commandment  illustrated  and  enforced,"  — .  Our  Saviour's  Divinity  in  Primi- 
tive Purity :  A  Sermon  on  the  Divine  Glory  of  Christ,  1810.  A  Discourse  on  the  Testimony 
by  which  the  Son  of  God  honoured  his  Father,  and  for  which  He  endured  the  Cross,  1810.  A 
Sermon  on  the  Divine  Sonship  of  Christ,  as  the  Fundamental  Article  of  Christian  Faith, 
1810.     A  Concise  View  of  the  Glory  of  Christ,  wholly  in  numerous  interwoven  quotations- 

Vol.  VIII.  13 


194  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ill  health.  He  thought  it  his  duty,  particularly  in  consideration  of  the 
inadequacy  of  his  support,  to  accept  this  invitation;  and  his  people,  who 
were  strongly  attached  to  him,  reluctantly  consented  to  it  ;  though,  by 
their  request,  he  still  retained  his  connection  with  the  church,  not  without 
some  expectation,  on  both  sides,  that  he  might  return  to  them  again.  He, 
accordingly,  removed  to  Salisbury,  in  February,  1810,  and  continued  there, 
as  his  brother's  assistant,  or  substitute,  for  about  three  years. 

At  the  time  of  his  removal  to  Salisbury,  he  was  engaged  in  the  publica- 
tion of  a  work  on  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  to  which  he  had  devoted 
much  thought  and  study  for  several  years,  and  which  was  destined  to  bring 
him  into  new  associations,  and,  in  a  great  measure,  change  the  complexion 
of  his  life  :  this  was  the  celebrated  work  entitled  "  Bible  News  of  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost."  This  work,  as  soon  as  it  appeared,  pro- 
duced a  strong  sensation,  not  only  in  Mr.  Worcester's  immediate  circle, 
but  in  almost  every  part  of  New  England  ;  and  it  soon  became  the  subject 
of  severe  animadversion  and  of  earnest  controversy.  The  Hopkinton 
Association,  of  which  he  was  a  member,  passed  a  formal  sentence  of  con- 
demnation against  the  book;  and  in  November  following,  (1810,)  was 
published  "An  Address  to  the  Churches  in  connection  with  the  General 
Association  of  New  Hampshire,  on  the  subject  of  the  Trinity."  He  evi- 
dently expected  that  his  views,  when  made  public,  would  be  met  with 
more  tolerance,  especially  as  he  had  communicated  them  to  many  of  his 
brethren  in  private,  whose  relations  with  him  had  nevertheless  continued 
as  intimate  as  ever.  He  published  several  pamphlets  about  this  time, 
designed  rather  to  expose  what  he  deemed  the  unreasonable  opposition  that 
was  made  to  him,  than  to  vindicate  directly  his  peculiar  theological  views. 

The  attitude  thus  taken  by  Mr.  Worcester  not  only  attracted  the  attention, 
but  awakened  the  sympathy,  particularly  of  a  number  of  the  more  promi- 
nent ministers  of  Boston  ;  and  a  plan  was  quickly  set  on  foot  for  bringing 
him  to  reside  in  their  neighbourhood.  It  was  resolved  to  establish  a  new 
work,  to  be  called  "  The  Christian  Disciple  :"  and  Mr.  Worcester  was  invited 
to  become  its  editor.  Being  satisfied  that  he  had  but  little  reason  to  expect 
employment  as  a  preacher  in  New  Hampshire,  and  his  brother,  whose  place 
he  had  taken,  having  the  prospect  of  being  able  to  resume  his  labours,  he 
determined  to  accept  this  invitation;  and,  accordingly,  in  May,  1813,  he 
removed  his  family  to  Brighton,  and  commenced  his  labours  as  editor  of 
the  Christian  Disciple;  and  he  continued  them  till  the  close  of  1818.  This 
work,  as  conducted  by  him,  though  in  its  general  influence  favourable  to 
Unitarianism,  was  remarkably  free  from  a  controversial  tone,  and  professed 
to  aim  more  at  tlie  cultivation  of  the  Christian  temper  than  the  exposition 
of  ChristiaiH  doctrine. 

In  1818,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  by 
Harvard  College. 

from  the  Bible,  1811.  Call  for  Scripture  Evidence  that  Christ  is  the  Self-existent  God  :  A 
Letter  addressed  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Spring,  D.  D.,  1811.  Instruction  and  Consolation  to 
the  Afflicted,  from  the  History  of  Joseph  :  A  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Death  of  Joseph  Ward- 
Tpell,  1814.  Ecclesiastical  Usurpation  and  Strange  Inconsistency  exposed;  relating  to  an 
Exparte  Council  held  at  Salisbury,  N.  11.,  1815.  A  New  Chain  of  Plain  Argument,  deemed 
conclusive  against  Trinitarianism  :  Addressed  to  a  Trinitarian  Writer  in  the  Panoplist,  in  a 
Series  of  Candid  Letters,  1817.  Extract  of  a  Friendly  Letter  to  a  Trinitarian  Brother  in  the 
Ministry,  1819. 


NOAH   WORCESTER.  195 

In  connection  with  his  labours  as  editor  of  the  Christian  Disciple,  he 
commenced  and  prosecuted  a  vigorous  system  of  effort  in  favour  of  the 
cause  of  Peace.  His  mind  had,  for  many  years,  been  in  an  unsettled  state 
in  respect  to  the  lawfulness  of  War;  and,  at  length,  he  attained  to  an 
undoubting  conviction  that  War,  in  every  form,  defensive  as  well  as  offen- 
sive, is  contrary  to  the  spirit  and  precepts  of  the  Gospel.  In  1814,  he 
published  his  celebrated  Tract,  entitled  "A  Solemn  Review  of  the  Cus- 
tom of  War;"  whicli  has  not  only  passed  through  many  editions  but  has 
been  translated  into  several  languages  :  and,  for  the  time  being  at  least, 
seemed  to  have  modified  public  sentiment  on  the  subject  to  which  it  relates. 
The  publication  of  this  Tract  was  followed  almost  immediately  by  the  for- 
mation of  the  Massachusetts  Peace  Society  ;  and,  in  1819,  commenced  the 
well  known  periodical,  entitled  "  the  Friend  of  Peace,"  which  continued, 
in  Quarterly  Numbers,  for  ten  years  ;  nearly  the  whole  of  which  was  written 
by  himself.  This  work  exhibits  at  once  rich  and  varied  resources,  untiring 
perseverance,  and  a  spirit  of  enlarged  and  active  philanthropy. 

In  1828,  on  the  completion  of  his  seventieth  year,  finding  it  necessary, 
as  age  advanced,  to  lighten  somewhat  the  burden  of  his  labours,  he  discon- 
tinued the  publication  of  the  Friend  of  Peace,  and  resigned  the  office, 
which  he  had  for  several  years  held,  of  Secretary  of  the  Peace  Society.  ' 
His  mind  was  now  directed,  with  great  intensity,  to  an  examination  of  the 
nature  of  the  connection  between  the  sufferings  of  Christ  and  the  salvation 
of  men  ;  and,  having  reached  definite,  and  to  himself  satisfactory,  views 
on  the  subject,  he  published  them,  in  1829,  in  a  small  volume,  entitled 
"The  Atoning  Sacrifice,  a  Display  of  Love,  not  of  Wrath."  It  has  been 
published  more  than  once  in  this  country,  and  has  passed  through  several 
editions  in  England. 

In  1831,  he  published  another  small  work,  entitled  "  The  Causes  and 
Evils  of  Contention  among  Christians  ;"  and,  in  1833,  a  large  duodecimo 
volume  of  more  than  three  hundred  pages,  under  the  title  of  "  Last  Thoughts 
on  Important  Subjects.  In  three  parts  —  1.  Man's  Liability  to  Sin  :  2. 
Supplemental  Illustrations  :   3.   Man's  Capacity  to  Obey." 

For  many  years  after  he  went  to  live  at  Brighton,  he  was  Postmaster  of 
the  place,  the  business  of  the  office  being  transacted  chiefly  by  his  daugh- 
ter ;  but,  when  the  business  of  the  town  had  greatly  increased,  and  large 
sums  of  money  must  lie  in  the  office  over  night,  he  thought  proper,  from 
considerations  of  prudence,  to  resign  his  place.  His  neighbours,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  the  town  generally,  treated  him  with  great  respect  and 
kindness,  and  were  always  ready  to  contribute  to  his  comfort  in  an}'^  way 
within  their  power. 

In  1815,  he  suffered  an  attack  of  paralysis,  which  it  was  apprehended 
at  first  would  prove  fatal.  He,  however,  recovered  fi'om  it,  after  a  short 
time,  but  had  other  attacks,  less  severe,  in  subsequent  years.  It  was  con- 
fidently expected  that  he  would  die  in  one  of  these  spasms,  from  disease 
of  the  heart;  but  he  actually  died  from  an  affection  of  the  lungs.  His 
decline,  for  about  five  weeks  previous  to  his  death,  was  rapid.  Fully  con- 
scious that  his  end  was  approaching,  he  said, — "  I  think  I  may  not  be  here 
long,  and  I  know  not  why  I  should  desire  to  be."  He  continued  able  to 
sit  up,  more  or  less,  each  day,  till  the  last  five  days.     A  part  of  the  last 


196  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

day  lie  seemed  bewildered,  but  most  of  tlie  time  his  mind  was  perfectly 
clear.  He  died  on  the  Slst  of  October,  1837.  His  Funeral  took  place  at 
the  meeting-house  in  Brighton,  at  which  he  had  worshipped,  the  services 
being  conducted  by  the  Rev.  Daniel  Austin.  His  body  rests  at  Mount 
Auburn,  where  a  monument  has  been  erected  to  his  memory. 

Dr.  Worcester  had  four  sons  and  six  daughters, — all  by  his  first  mar- 
riage. One  of  his  sons  is  the  Rev.  Thomas  Worcester,  D.  D.,  Minister 
of  the  New  Jerusalem  Church,  Boston. 

Besides  the  books  and  pamphlets  already  noticed.  Dr.  Worcester  pub- 
lished the  following:  —  The  Gospel  Ministry  illustrated:  A  Sermon 
preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Thomas  Worcester,  at  Salisbury,  1791.  A 
Friendly  Letter  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  Baldwin,  1791.  A  Familiar  Dialogue 
between  Cephas  and  Bereas,  1793.  A  Candid  Discussion  on  Close  Com- 
munion, 1794.  New  Hampshire  Election  Sermon,  1800.  The  First  Com- 
mandment of  all  illustrated  and  applied:  A  Sermon  preached  at  Campton, 
1806.  Solemn  Reasons  for  declining  to  adopt  the  Baptist  Theory  nud 
Practice;  in  a  Series  of  Letters  to  a  Baptist  Minister,  (Third  Edition,) 
1809.  Respectful  Address  to  the  Trinitarian  Clergy,  relating  to  their 
Manner  of  Treating  Opponents,  1812.  Appeal  to  the  Candid  :  or  the 
Trinitarian  Review,  Nos.  1,  2  and  3,  1814.  Tract  entitled  "  Thoughts  on 
the  Personality  of  the  Word  of  God,"  1836.  Tract  entitled  "A  Review 
of  Atheism,  for  Unlearned  Christians,"  1836.  Much  the  greater  portion 
of  the  productions  of  his  pen  are  included  in  the  two  periodicals  of  which 
he  was  editor.  , 

FROM  THE  REV.  GEORGE  W.  BLAGDEN,  D.  D. 

Boston,  March  19,  1851. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Worcester  was  almost  wholly 
social.  It  was  very  pleasant  indeed;  and  it  has  left  so  kindly  an  impression  on 
my  mind  that  there  are  many  reasons  why  I  should  like  to  write  any  thing  to 
be  printed  which  should  be  likely  to  convey  truly  mj''  impressions  to  other 
persons.  His  daughter,  at  the  time  of  my  first  preaching  in  Brighton,  became 
early  a  member  of  the  church  of  which  I  was  Pastor.  This  brought  me  soon 
into  frequent  intercourse  with  the  Doctor.  He  received  me  always  as  a  father 
would  receive  a  son.  He  gave  me  every  facility  he  could  for  doing  good,  con- 
sistently with  his  own  principles.  On  one  occasion,  perhaps  on  more,  we 
held  the  Monthly  Concert  of  Prayer  for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  through  the 
world,  at  his  house.  He  loved  to  talk  with  me  on  religious  subjects  without 
controversy.  He  never  tried  to  subvert  my  faith  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity, 
while,  with  a  beautiful  and  honest  simplicity  of  manner,  he  was  ready,  on  any 
proper  occasion,  to  express  his  own  views.  He  certainly  appeared  to  me  to 
love  all  who  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity,  of  whatever  name  or 
sect  they  might  be  in  religion.  And  I  often  had  occasion  to  notice  that  if 
either  I  or  others  were  engaged  in  earnest  efforts  to  do  good,  he  would,  at  any 
time,  leave  those  who  might  theorize  with  himself,  without  the  same  amount 
of  zeal  which  he  possessed,  to  co-operate  with  us;  at  least  as  far  as  he  could 
do  so  consistently  with  peace,  which  he  loved,  I  might  almost  say,  to  a  fault. 

The  old  gentleman  looked  like  a  Patriarch.  He  was  six  feet  or  more  in 
height,  with  a  large  frame.  His  hair  was  rather  long  behind,  hanging  a  little 
over  the  collar  of  his  coat.  And  when  he  walked  in  the  street  he  usually  had 
a  roomy  black  surtout  or  gown;  and  bore  a  staff  rather  than  a  cane,  with  a 


NOAH    WORCESTER.  197 

pretty  large  brimmed  hat.  When  an)'  one  who  loved  what  was  antique  and 
venerable  saw  him  thus,  he  could  not  fail  to  be  greatly  impressed  by  his  appear- 
ance, and  to  feel  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  dignified,  yet  entirely  unas- 
suming, man.  His  habits  of  living  were  very  simple,  partly,  I  have  no  doubt, 
from  taste,  and  partly,  also,  from  necessity;  for  I  have  always  understood 
that  liis  means  were  quite  limited.  It  was  alike  pleasing  and  edifying  to  me 
to  hear  him  invoke  tlie  blessing  of  God  at  his  table.  lie  placed  his  hand 
upon  hie  heart,  which  had  been  beating  therefor  some  seventy  years  or  more, 
— and  which,  when  only  a  little  excited,  I  rather  think  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
touching  thus, — owing  to  a  spasmodic  afFoction  of  it  with  which  he  was  often 
afflicted,  and  would  usually  begin  with  the  words,  "  Indulgent  Parent!"  I 
seem  to  see  him  and  hear  him  now;  an  unusually  kind,  and  meek,  and  mod- 
est, but  courageous  and  conscientious  old  man;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  the 
memory  of  him  to  me  is  one  of  the  most  mellow  and  pleasant  recollections  of 
my  course  thus  far  in  life. 

There  are  two  remarks  which  I  remember  to  have  read  in  the  writings — I 
think  a  Sermon — of  the  late  Dr.  Channing  respecting  him,  about  the  time  of 
his  death,  by  which  I  was  particularly  impressed.  The  first  was  that,  as  one 
came  from  a  visit  to  him,  in  his  neat  and  humble  abode,  and  returned  into  a 
city  like  Boston,  he  could  not  but  think,  as  he  looked  upon  the  abodes  of  many 
of  the  wealthy  there,  how  little  was  needful,  after  all,  to  ensure  to  a  man, 
whose  heart  and  mind  were  superior  to  things  seen  and  sensual,  the  purest 
and  highest  earthly  happiness  of  which,  in  this  state  of  trial,  we  are  usually 
permitted  to  be  the  subjects. 

The  other  remark  was  (though  in  the  justice  of  it  I  have  less  confidence) 
that,  though  Dr.  Worcester  read  much,  particularly  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
life,  yet  the  range  of  his  acquaintance  with  other  writers  being  somewhat  cir- 
cumscribed, he  would  sometimes  consider  a  thought  of  his  own  as  new,  when 
a  more  extensive  reading  would  have  taught  him  that  it  had  been  expressed 
by  others.  This  may  have  been  the  case.  But  many  who  have  read  much,  I 
apprehend,  may  have  found  it  thus  sometimes  with  themselves.  Still  the 
Doctor's  early  advantages  had  been  small,  and  probably  there  is  truth  in  Dr. 
Channing's  suggestion. 

Dr.  Worcester  had  certainly  a  clear  and  discriminating  mind,  and  so  much 
honesty  and  simplicit}'-  of  character  that  wherever  he  supposed  his  investiga- 
tion of  the  statements  of  the  Bible  led  him,  he  would  frankly  avow  his  con- 
clusions without  much  delaj^;  and  it  is  possible  that,  in  some  instances,  if  he 
could  have  persuaded  himself  to  wait  a  little  longer  that  he  might  view  the 
same  supposed  truth  from  different  positions,  he  might  have  arrived  at  a  some- 
what different  result.  It  was  here,  perhaps,  that  the  want  of  a  more  extended 
range  of  reading,  and  a  greater  comprehensiveness  of  reflection,  to  which  Dr. 
Channing  alluded  in  the  second  remark  I  have  cited  from  him,  discovered 
itself. 

I  never  heard  the  Doctor  preach.  But  from  what  I  have  known  of  him  in 
his  old  age,  when  he  had  retired  from  the  duties  of  the  pulpit,  I  have  been 
led  to  believe  that  he  was  probably  more  simple  and  patriarchial  than  power- 
ful in  his  preaching;  though  it  was  impossible  that,  with  such  a  mind  as  he 
possessed,  his  discourses  should  have  been  enriched  with  much  vigorous,  ma- 
ture and  well  digested  thought. 

It  occurs  to  me,  as  I  have  alluded  to  his  age,  that,  during  the  period  of 
my  acquaintance,  I  may  almost  say  intimacy,  with  him,  he  impressed  me 
greatly  with  his  good  judgment  by  saying  to  me,  in  one  of  my  visits  to  his 
house,  that  he  had  just  resigned  his  editorship  of  '<  The  Friend  of  Peace," — 
a  periodical  which  he  had,  for  a  number  of  years,  conducted,  in  behalf,  I 
believ'e,  of  the  American  Peace  Society.     And  he  said  he  had  done  so,  because 


198  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

he  had  just  turned  of  seventy  years  of  age,  and  had  resolved,  many  years 
before,  from  what  he  had  noticed  of  the  unwise  tenacity  of  some  old  men  to 
public  trusts,  after  they  were  incapable  of  sustaining  them,  that,  should  he 
live  to  be  seventy,  he  would  hold  no  public  oihce. 

I  have  now  written,.  I  believe,  pretty  much  every  thing  that  I  can  remember 
concerning  Dr.  Worcester,  that  you  could  possibly  turn  to  any  account  in 
your  proposed  sketch  of  him.  And  I  confess  that  I  have  done  it  with  not  the 
less  alacrity  from  the  very  consideration  which,  in  the  estimation  of  some, 
might  render  it  a  matter  of  delicacy  for  me  to  do  it  at  all — I  mean  tlie  fact 
that  he  was  in  some  sense  a  Unitarian,  for  I  would  not  shrink  from  paying  a 
tribute  to  acknowledged  excellence,  because  it  is  associated  with  views  of 
religious  truth  that  are  not  in  accordance  with  my  own.  And  then  I  used  to 
visit  him  in  the  sweet  retirement  of  his  peaceful  and  happy  family,  consisting, 
at  the  time  I  knew  him,  of  a  second  wife, — an  amiable  and  kind  woman,  a 
daughter,  and  a  niece.  The  wife  and  niece,  with  him,  their  companion  and 
relative,  have  now  gone  hence  to  be  here  no  more.  The  daughter  still  remains, 
an  inhabitant,  I  believe,  now  with  another  younger  relative,  of  the  same  dwel- 
ling in  which  I  have  been  so  often  received  as  a  welcome  guest.  His  daughter 
continues  a  most  consistent  and  highly  influential  member  of  the  Church  in 
Brighton,  with  which  I  was  connected, — esteemed  and  beloved  by  all  who 
know  her.  On  her  account,  as  well  as  for  other  reasons,  I  could  wish  that 
some  one  who  sustained  such  relations  to  Dr.  Worcester  as  I  have  done,  might 
say  something  of  his  character  through  your  contemplated  publication. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

G.  W.  BLAGDEN. 

FROM    THE    REV.   THOMAS    WORCESTER,    D.   D., 
pastor  of  the  new  jerusalem  church,  boston. 

August  18,  1863. 

Dear  Dr.  Sprague:  You  desire  me  to  tell  you  something  about  my  father, 
Noah  Worcester,  showing  what  he  was  particularly  in  his  more  private  rela- 
tions. I  am  glad  that  you  have  a  letter  from  Dr.  Blagden,  because  he  was  a 
near  neighbour  of  my  father,  and  spent  much  time  with  him,  but  did  not  agree 
with  him  in  religious  opinions.  In  Dr.  Channing's  works  there  is  a  sermon, 
"which  he  delivered  soon  after  the  death  of  my  father,  and  from  which  you 
can  see  in  what  estimation  he  was  held  by  those  who  agreed  with  him.  By 
every  one  who  was  acquainted  with  him,  you  would  hear  it  said  that  he  was 
remarkable  for  simplicity  and  transparency  of  character.  This  was  because 
he  never  aimed  at  a  purpose  which  he  wished  to  conceal.  His  own  rule  of 
life  may  be  seen  in  a  rule  which  he  gave  to  me,  when  I  was  going  away  from 
home  to  keep  school.  I  was  quite  young, — only  sixteen.  He  took  me  by  tlie 
hand  and  said,  "  Good-bye,  Thomas;  mean  well  and  explain  your  meaning." 
He  was  a  man  of  great  dignity  of  character;  because  he  always  acted  upon 
high  principles,  and  was  always  endeavouring  to  lead  those  with  whom  he 
was  connected,  to  act  upon  the  same. 

As  to  the  Divine  Law,  in  its  literal  sense,  I  have  no  knowledge,  except  my 
general  knowledge  of  human  nature,  that  he  ever  had  any  inclination  to  do 
wrong.  His  principal  field  of  spiritual  labour  seemed  to  be  that  in  which  lie 
cultivated  the  higher  Christian  feelings;  particularly  those  of  forgiveness  of 
injuries  and  love  towards  enemies.  In  these  efforts  he  was  eminently  success- 
ful. Having  changed  his  opinions,  and  therefore  changed  his  position  from 
that  of  a  distinguished  member  of  one  denomination  to  that  of  a  distin- 
guished member  of  another,  he  was  of  course  exposed  to  many  hard  thoughts 
and  hard  speeches.     These  he  felt  deeply;  but  no  one  could  see  in  him  any 


HENRY    WARE.  199 

resentment  or  disposition  to  retaliate.  As  he  was  a  human  being,  he  of  course 
had  such  feelings,  during  some  part  of  his  life.  Whether  he  ever  suffered 
them  to  come  forth,  I  do  not  know;  but  I  never  saw  in  him  any  thing  but 
kind  feelings,  and  an  inclination  to  excuse  those  who  treated  him  injuriou.sl}-. 

You  doubtless  remember  the  war  which  was  carried  on  in  this  State  between 
the  Trinitarians  and  Unitarians,  about  fifty  years  ago;  and  in  which  my 
uncle,  Dr.  Samuel  Worcester  and  Dr.  William  E.  Channing  were  distinguished 
antagonists.  I  do  not  suppose  that  any  one,  who  was  acquainted  with  the  two 
men,  would  regard  the  former  as  inferior  to  the  latter  with  respect  to  Chris- 
tian temper;  and  yet  he  did  not,  in  that  point  of  view,  appear  quite  as  some 
of  us  had  expected.  The  members  of  our  family  knew  one  thing  more  than 
other  people  did — they  knew  that  the  manuscript  of  Dr.  Channing  was  revised 
b}'  my  father. 

One  circumstance  interested  us  a  good  deal.  Not  long  after  the  battle  was 
over,  my  uncle  visited  my  father;  and  while  they  were  conversing  on  the  sub- 
ject, the  latter  expressed  his  regret  that  the  former  had  said  some  things 
"which  appeared  to  him  unduly  severe.  My  uncle  replied  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  say  any  such  things,  and  was  sorry  if  he  had;  and  added  that 
he  should  have  been  glad  to  have  my  father  revise  his  manuscript  before  it 
was  printed,  and  should  have  requested  him  to  do  it,  if  he  had  had  an  oppor- 
tunity. It  would  have  been  pleasant  to  see  both  parties  resorting  to  the  same 
person  for  that  purpose;  and  the  tone  of  the  controversy  might  have  been  the 
better  for  it. 

My  father  was  regarded  by  all  who  were  acquainted  with  him  as  a  very 
good  man;  but  you  would  like  to  know  whether  that  goodness  was  genuine  or 
not;  whether  he  regarded  it  as  from  God,  or  whether  he  regarded  it  as  origi- 
nating in  himself,  and  so  relied  upon  his  own  merits.  Upon  this  point,  I  feel 
a  good  deal  of  confidence.  I  believe  that  he  was  habitually  resisting  the  temp- 
tation to  regard  goodness  as  his  own,  and  habitually  endeavouring  to  acknowl- 
edge, more  and  more  fully,  that  "  none  is  good  but  one,  God."  I  believe  that 
he  regarded  the  Lord  as  the  only  Vine,  and  all  good  men  as  branches.  I 
believe  that  he  was,  in  a  good  degree,  sensible  that  it  was  necessary  for  his 
spiritual  life  that  he  should  abide  in  the  Lord,  and  that  the  Lord  should 
abide  in  him.  I  say  in  a  good  degree  sensible  of  it,  because  no  one  on  earth 
is  sufficiently  sensible  of  his  dependence  upon  the  Lord. 

Very  affectionately  and  truly  yours, 

THOMAS  WORCESTER. 


HENRY  WARE,  D.  D.* 

1787—1845. 

Henry  "Ware,  a  son  of  John  and  Martha  Ware,  was  born  in  Sherburne,, 
Mass.,  April  1,  1764.  His  father  was  a  farmer  in  moderate  circumstances. 
He  was  very  feeble  during  his  earliest  years,  and  little  expectation  was 
entertained  that  he  would  survive  the  period  of  childhood;  but  his  consti- 
tution gradually  acquired  vigour,  so  that,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  was 
as  capable  of  physical  effort  as  most  other  boys  of  his  age.  His  advantages 
of  education  at  this  time  were  but  small,  as  the  school  which  he  attended. 

*  Dr.  Palfrey's  Commemorative  Discourse. — Ms.  from  John  Ware,  M.  D. 


200  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

•was  kept  only  from  six  to  ten  weeks  during  the  winter,  and  the  rest  of  the 
time  he  was  engaged  with  his  elder  brothers  in  performing  such  labour  as 
he  was  capable  of  on  his  father's  farm.  He  was  very  quiet  and  amiable  in 
his  disposition,  a  great  lover  of  play,  and  far  more  apt  to  learn  than  any 
of  his  schoolmates. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  death  deprived  him  of  his  father ;  and  his  portion 
of  the  paternal  estate  amounted  to  no  more  than  one  hundred  pounds,  of 
the  currency  of  that  day.  As  this  was  quite  inadequate  to  secure  to  him  the 
advantages  of  a  collegiate  education,  his  brothers,  with  exemplary  gene- 
rosity, agreed  to  combine  their  efforts  in  aid  of  this  object.  Accordingly, 
in  November,  1779,  he  was  placed,  as  a  student,  under  the  care  of  the 
Rev.  Elijah  Brown,  the  minister  of  his  native  parish,  where,  in  due  time, 
he  completed  his  course  preparatory  to  entering  College. 

He  joined  the  Freshman  Class  in  Harvard  College,  at  the  Commence- 
ment in  1781.  The  College,  owing  to  various  adverse  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  state  of  the  times,  was  then  greatly  depressed  ;  and  its 
advantages  were  probably  less  than  at  almost  any  preceding — certainly  any 
subsequent — period.  Mr.  Ware,  however,  evidently  made  the  most  of 
them  ;  and,  by  the  unusual  regularity  of  his  deportment,  as  well  as  his 
untiring  devotion  to  study,  rose  to  the  head  of  his  class.  This  was  indi- 
cated by  the  fact  that  he  was  chosen  President  of  each  of  the  three  Asso- 
ciations of  which  he  was  a  member;  that  he  never  incurred  a  fine,  or  any 
other  penalty,  at  the  hands  of  the  Faculty;  and  that,  at  the  exhibitions 
and  at  Commencement,  the  highest  honours  were  assigned  to  him. 

Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he  took  charge  of  the  town  school  of 
Cambridge,  and,  at  the  same  time,  commenced  the  study  of  Theology,  with 
a  view  to  carry  out  a  purpose  which  he  had  long  before  formed,  of  devot- 
ing himself  to  tlie  ministry.  As  Dr.  Wigglesworth,  the  Professor  of  The- 
ology, was  then  too  infirm  to  give  instruction,  Mr.  Ware  pursued  his  stu- 
dies under  the  direction  of  the  Rev,  Timothy  Hilliard,  then  minister  of 
the  First  parish  in  Cambridge, 

After  having  been  thus  engaged  in  teaching  and  studying  a  little  more 
than  a  year  and  a  half,  he  commenced  preaching;  and  his  first  sermon  was 
preached  on  his  twenty-third  birthday,  April  1,  1787,  in  his  native  place, 
in  the  pulpit  of  his  early  Pastor  and  instructor.  His  first  efforts,  as  a 
Preacher,  were  received  with  much  more  than  common  favour ;  and  in  a 
short  time  he  received  a  call  to  settle  as  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in 
Ilingham,  then  recently  rendered  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  venerable 
Dr.  Gay.  About  this  time,  he  was  appointed  to  a  Tutorship  in  Harvard 
College,  which,  however,  he  declined,  from  a  preference  to  engage  imme- 
diately in  the  duties  of  the  ministry.  He,  accordingly,  accepted  the  call 
from  Hingham,  and  was  ordained  and  installed,  October  24,  1787.  The 
Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Timothy  Hilliard,  and 
was  published. 

Mr.  Ware  soon  found  that  his  salary  (four  hundred  and  fifty  dollars)  was 
unequal  to  the  support  of  a  rising  family;  and,  in  order  to  make  up  the 
deficiency,  he  was  obliged  to  resort  to  keeping  boarders  and  fitting  boys 
for  College.  Though  this  must  necessarily  have  abridged,  in  some  degree, 
his  professional  attainments,  he  was  still  highly  acceptable  to  his  people, 


HENRY   WARE.  201 

and  was  greatly  esteemed  for  liis  talents  and  virtues  through  the  whole 
surrounding  region. 

In  the  year  1805,  when  lie  was  in  the  forty-first  year  of  his  age,  he  was 
chosen  to  the  Hollis  Professorship  of  Divinity  in  Harvard  College  ; — the 
chair  having  been  recently  vacated  hy  the  death  of  Dr.  Tappan.  The 
appointment  was  confirmed  by  the  Overseers  on  the  14th  of  February  ; 
his  Inauguration  took  place  on  the  14th  of  May  ;  and  he  removed  to  Cam- 
bridge the  following  month.  In  his  acceptance  of  this  appointment,  he 
was  influenced  partly  by  a  desire  to  improve  his  worldly  circumstances  ; 
for  so  straitened  had  they  been  while  he  was  at  Hingluim  that  he  felt  that 
his  wife  was  subjected  to  anxieties  and  labours  greatly  beyond  her  strength, 
and  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  avail  himself  of  this  opportunity  to  secure  to 
her  the  needed  relief.  She,  however,  survived  but  a  few  weeks  after  their 
removal  to  Cambridge. 

Mr.  Ware's  election  to  the  Hollis  Professorship  was  an  occasion  of  a 
memorable  controversy.  Dr.  Tappan,  his  predecessor,  had  always  been 
regarded  as  a  Trinitarian  and  a  moderate  Calvinist  ;  but  jMr.  Ware  was 
understood  to  be  a  decided  Arminian  and  a  Unitarian.  Vigorous  efforts 
were  made  to  prevent  the  nomination,  when  submitted  to  the  Overseers, 
from  being  confirmed ;  but  it  Was  confirmed  by  a  vote  of  thirty-three  to 
twenty-three.  The  "  orthodox"  clergy  generally  were  greatly  dissatisfied 
with  the  result,  and  Dr.  Pearson,  who  had  been  both  a  Professor  and  a 
Fellow  in  tlie  College,  the  next  year  resigned  both  these  offices,  giving,  as 
a  reason,  that  "  the  University  was  the  subject  of  such  radical  and  consti- 
tutional maladies  as  to  exclude  the  hope  of  rendering  any  essential  service 
to  the  interests  of  religion  by  continuing  his  relation  to  it."  Dr.  Morse 
also  published  a  pamphlet,  entitled  "  True  Reasons  on  which  the  Election 
of  a  Hollis  Professor  of  Divinity  in  Harvard  College  was  opposed  at  tlie 
lioard  of  Overseers,"  This  may  be  regarded  as  the  commencement  of  the 
Unitarian  Controversy,  which  was  prosecuted  with  great  vigour  for  many 
years,  until  at  length  the  lines  between  the  two  parties  were  distinctly 
drawn. 

In  1806,  Mr.  Ware  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
from  Harvard  College. 

Tliough  the  controversy  which  originated  immediately  in  his  election  to 
the  Professorship  was  going  on,  and  putting  in  requisition  able  men  on 
both  sides,  Dr.  Ware  himself  took  no  immediate  part  in  it,  until  the  year 
1820,  when  he  published  a  volume,  entitled  "Letters  to  Trinitarians  and 
Calvinists,  occasioned  by  Dr.  Woods'  Letters  to  Unitarians," — which 
passed  through  three  editions  the  same  year.  In  1821,  Dr.  Woods  replied 
to  these  Letters  ;  and  in  1822,  Dr.  Ware  continued  the  controversy  by  an 
Answer  to  Dr.  Woods'  second  work ;  and  to  this  answer  he  subsequently 
added  a  Postscript,  making  a  considerable  pamphlet. 

In  the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  Professor,  Dr.  Ware  not  only  read  to 
the  students  Lectures  on  the  Evidences,  Doctrines  and  Ethics  of  Religion', 
and  on  Biblical  History  and  Criticism,  but  conducted  the  instruction  of 
the  classes  in  the  different  text  books  which  were  used  in  those  depart- 
ments. After  the  establishment  of  public  worship  in  the  College  Chapel, 
in  1814,  he  regularly  took   his  share  in   the   pulpit   service.     After  the 


202  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

deatli  of  President  Webber,  and  again,  after  the  death  of  President  Kirk- 
land,  he  was  invested  with  the  temporary  government  of  the  College,  and 
there  was  no  diminution  of  its  prosperity  under  his  administration. 

In  1811,  Dr.  Ware  commenced  a  course  of  exercises  with  the  resident 
students  in  Divinity,  out  of  which  grew  the  Divinity  School,  which  has 
since  been  connected  with  the  College.  When  this  school  was  formally 
organized,  in  1816,  he  became  Professor  of  Systematic  Theology  and  the 
Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  continued  to  occupy  this  place  twenty-four 
years. 

Al)Out  the  close  of  the  year  1839,  Dr.  Ware,  in  consequence  of  the 
inconvenience  which  he  experienced  from  a  cataract  which  had  been,  for 
several  years,  forming  on  his  right  eye,  found  it  necessary  to  relinquish  a 
portion  of  his  labours;  and,  accordingly,  from  that  time,  he  limited  his 
attention  to  the  Diviniiy  School.  In  the  autumn  of  1840,  he  concluded, 
though  not  without  consideral)le  hesitation,  to  submit  to  the  operation  of 
couching,  as  an  experiment  of  relief;  having,  however,  previously  resigned 
his  Professorship,  and  received  from  the  Corporation  of  the  College  the 
highest  testimony  of  their  sense  of  the  value  of  his  services.  The  opera- 
tion upon  his  eye  was  a  failure;  and,  shortly  after,  he  was  attacked  with 
a  violent  fever,  from  the  remoter  effects  of  which  he  never  fully  recovered. 
During  the  two  following  years,  partly  to  relieve  himself  from  tlie  tedium 
incident  to  inaction,  he  carried  through  the  press  a  selection  from  one  of 
tlie  series  of  liis  Academical  Discourses,  entitled  "An  Inquiry  into  the 
Foundation,  Evidences  and  Truths  of  Religion."  The  labour  requisite  to 
this  ])ublication  was  probably  an  overtasking  of  his  nervous  system  ;  and 
his  faculties,  both  bodily  and  mental,  from  that  time,  underwent  a  rapid 
decline.  During  that  and  the  following  year,  he  confined  himself  chiefly 
at  home,  though  he  sometimes  attended  public  worship,  and  occasionally 
walked  in  his  garden.  He  walked  abroad,  for  the  last  time,  on  the  20th 
of  November,  1843,  when  he  passed  to  his  new  dwelling  ; — a  dwelling 
which  seven  weeks  afterwards  was  burnt  to  ashes.  It  was,  however, 
quickly  rebuilt,  and  he  was  again  happy  in  the  occupancy  of  it.  He  gra- 
dually sunk  under  the  power  of  disease,  and  died  June  12,  1845.  A  Dis- 
course on  his  Life  and  Character  was  subsequently  delivered  at  Cambridge 
by  Dr.  Palfrey. 

On  the  31st  of  March,  1789,  Dr.  Ware  was  married  to  Mary,  daughter 
of  the  Rev.  Jonas  Clark,  of  Lexington,  who  died  July  13,  1805,  aged 
forty-tliree,  having  been  tho  mother  often  children, — seven  daughters  and 
three  sons.  He  was  married,  a  second  time,  on  the  9th  of  February,  1807, 
to  IMary,  daughter  of  James  Otis,  and  widow  of  Benjamin  Lincoln,  Jr. 
She  died  on  the  17th  of  the  same  month,  aged  forty-two.  He  was  mar- 
ried, a  third  time,  not  long  after,  to  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Nicholas  Rowes, 
formerly  an  eminent  bookseller  of  Boston,  who  became  the  mother  of  nine 
children, — five  sons  and  four  daughters.  Six  of  his  sons  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College,  and  most  of  them  have  occupied,  or  now  occupy,  places  of 
usefulness  and  honour. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Ware's  publications  : — 

A  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1795.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Washing- 
ingtOD,  1800.     A  Sermon  at  the  Interment  of  the  Rev.  Daniel  Shute,  D. 


HENRY   WARE.  203 

D.,  1802.  A  Sermon  deliverecl  at  Scituate,  entitled  "  The  Service  of  God 
as  inculcated  in  the  Bible  our  lleasonable  Choice,"  1804.  A  Farewell 
Sermon  at  Hingham,  1805.  Eulogy  on  President  Webber,  1810.  A 
Sermon  at  tlie  Ordination  of  Joseph  Allen,  Northborough,  1816.  A  Ser- 
mon at  the  Ordination  of  his  Son,  Henry  Ware,  Boston,  1817.  A  Sermon 
delivered  before  the  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers  in  Massachu- 
setts, 1818.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Alvan  Lamson,  Dediiam, 
1818.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  John  Pierpont,  Boston,  1819.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  William  B.  0.  Peabody,  Springfield,  1820. 
Letters  to  Trinitarians  and  Calvinists,  1820,  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordina- 
tion of  Charles  Brooks,  Hingham,  1821.  The  Massachusetts  Election 
Sermon,  1821.  A  Sermon  at  tlie  Ordination  of  his  Son,  William  Ware, 
New  York,  1821.  Answer  to  Dr.  Woods'  Reply,  1822.  A  Postscript  to 
the  Answer  to  Dr.  Woods'  Heply,  1823.  Extract  from  an  Address  deliv- 
ered before  the  Conference  of  Ministers  in  Boston,  182G.  A  Sermon  on 
the  Death  of  John  Adams,  1826.  The  Use  and  Meaning  of  the  phrase 
"  Holy  Spirit,"  1836.  An  Inquiry  into  the  Foundation,  Evidences  and 
Truths  of  lleligion,  1842. 

FROM  THE  REV.  GEORGE  PUTNAM,  D.  D. 

RoxBURY,  July  15,  1851. 

My  dear  Sir :  You  ask  me  for  some  reminiscences  of  the  elder  Professor 
Ware. 

My  first  meeting  with  Dr.  Ware  was  on  entering  College  in  1822.  lie  exam- 
ined us  in  the  Greelc  Testament.  He  wished  to  look  at  our  books  to  see  if 
they  were  interlined — a  precaution  not  taken  by  any  other  of  the  corps  of 
examiners.  Ele  took  away  the  obnoxious  volumes,  mine  among  the  number. 
He  did  it  so  mildly,  so  politely,  so  modestly,  as  to  remove  all  ofFensiveness 
from  the  measure.  When  we  had  got  through  the  examination,  he  compli- 
mented us  for  our  good  recitation,  and  congratulated  us  on  the  circumstance 
so  favourable  to  us  of  having  been  put  to  the  test  of  exchanging  books  with 
him,  and  having  borne  it  so  Avell.  We  left  him, — at  least  I  did, — tliinking 
that,  while  he  was  the  strictest  of  all  the  members  of  the  Faculty  through 
■whose  hands  we  had  passed,  he  was  yet  one  of  the  kindest  and  pleasantest. 
All  I  ever  saw  of  him,  during  the  rest  of  his  life,  was  in  keeping  with  that 
little  incident  of  the  text-books, — the  strictest  ideas  of  propriety,  thorough- 
ness and  discipline,  with  a  winning  gentleness  and  paternal  friendliness  of 
manner  and  feeling. 

My  first  interview,  to  have  private  speech  with  him,  occurred  at  the  close  of 
the  first  term  of  my  Freshman  year.  He  being  the  College  Registrar,  I  called 
at  his  study,  as  was  the  custom  with  many  students  at  that  time,  to  ascertain 
my  rank  in  the  class.  He  very  good-naturedly  turned  to  his  books  and  told 
me.  It  was  not  a  very  high  figure.  (It  was  better  afterwards,  let  me  tell 
you.)  But  he  said  it  was  very  well  indeed,  very  satisfactory.  He  made  me 
think  that  it  was  the  best  possible  position, — to  improve  upon.  It  was  high 
enough  to  begin  with.  With  such  a  start,  I  could  be  any  thing  I  might  choose, 
and  he  made  me  think  so.  I  was  young  and  fresh  from  the  deep  country,  and 
had  never  in  my  life  been  so  kindly  noticed  by  a  man  in  so  high  a  station. 
There  "was  power  and  inspiration  in  his  encouraging  words.  I  really  believe 
that  I  went  out  of  his  study  with  a  more  cheering,  arousing,  influential 
impression  than  I  ever  received  before  or  since.  President  Kirkland  was  con- 
sidered remarkable  for  this  sort  of  influence;  but  I  never  had  experience  of  it 


204  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

from  him  in  any  thing  like  the  same  degree.  College  instructors  and  dignita- 
ries are  seldom  full}'  aware  how  much  they  may  do  for  young  men  in  this  way. 

Dr.  Ware,  3'ou  know,  had  a  large  family  of  his  own,  and,  during  a  large  part 
of  his  life,  he  used  to  have  boys  in  his  house  to  educate.  He  was  considered 
very  wise  and  successful  in  the  management  of  them.  He  used  to  say  that  he 
had  no  system  about  it,  and  never  could  arrive  at  any.  Once,  when  asked  by 
a  parent  to  draw  up  some  set  of  rules  for  the  government  of  children,  he 
replied  by  an  anecdote:  "  Dr.  Hitchcock,"  he  said,  "  was  settled  in  Sand- 
wich; and  Avhen  he  made  his  first  exchange  with  the  Plymouth  minister,  he 
must  needs  pass  through  the  Plymouth  woods, — a  nine  miles  Avilderness, 
■where  travellers  almost  always  got  lost,  and  frequently  came  out  at  the  point 
they  started  from.  Dr.  H.,  on  entering  this  much  dreaded  labyrinth,  met  an 
old  woman,  and  asked  her  to  give  him  some  directions  for  getting  through  the 
woods  so  as  to  fetch  up  at  Pl3'mouth  rather  than  Sandwich.  '  Certainly,'  she 
said,  '  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  Avith  the  greatest  pleasure.  You  will  just 
keep  right  on  till  you  get  some  ways  into  the  woods,  and  you  will  come  to  a 
place  where  several  roads  branch  off.  Then  you  must  stop  and  consider,  and 
take  the  one  that  seejiis  to  you  most  likely  to  bring  you  out  right.'  He  did 
so  and  came  out  right.  I  have  always  followed  the  worthy  and  sensible  old 
lady's  advice  in  bringing  up  my  children.  I  do  not  think  anybody  can  do  bet- 
ter— at  any  rate  I  cannot."  And  yet  he  had  some  rules  practically,  whether 
he  knew  it  or  not.  One  was,  never  to  reprove  a  child  at  the  moment,  or  iu 
presence  of  other  persons,  but  to  call  him  into  the  study  afterwards  for  a 
solitary  talk.  No  child,  I  suppose,  ever  left  his  study,  on  such  an  occasion, 
without  increased  love  and  reverence  for  him;  but  it  was  a  formidable  affair, 
though  he  used  not  manj'  words,  and  was  always  mild  in  his  manner.  '<  I  do 
wish,"  said  one  of  his  elder  boys  to  another  of  them,  "I  do  wish  father 
would  flog  us  and  done  with  it, —  but  this  talk,  there  is  no  standing  that;  it 
knocks  a  fellow  up  so  entiiely,  and  makes  one  feel  so." 

It  was  a  principle  with  him  to  make  but  few  points  with  a  child,  and  avoid 
collision  of  wills  when  practicable,  but  when  he  did  take  a  stand,  to  abide  by 
it  and  prevail.  But  he  was  once  known  to  surrender  this  principle,  and 
acknowledge  himself  beat.  The  bo}'  got  into  a  fit  of  passionate  disobedience, 
and  the  Doctor,  after  a  long  contest,  gave  in.  An  elder  member  of  the  family 
wondered  that  he  should  yield.  He  said  that  some  torrents  were  so  violent 
that  they  had  better  be  left  to  themselves  than  resisted;  and  besides,  he  said 
he  did  not  wish  to  set  the  child  an  example  of  obstinate  wilfulness,  but  would 
rather  let  him  see  that  the  strongest  must  and  could  yield  sometimes. 

He  was  kind  to  children,  and  had  a  happy  influence  with  them.  Two  little 
girls,  near  neighbours  of  his,  had  imbibed  a  great  terror  of  thunder,  owing 
to  the  example  of  a  grandmother  who  lived  with  them.  She  was  accustomed, 
every  summer  afternoon,  without  fail,  to  walk  round  and  examine  the  sky, 
in  search  of  thunder  clouds,  and  if  she  discerned  one  no  bigger  than  a  man's 
hand,  she  would  immediately  shut  herself  into  her  chamber,  and  generally 
take  the  children  with  her,  where  she  would  spend  the  afternoon  in  a  state  of 
the  greatest  agitation.  The  Doctor,  .seeing  the  effect  upon  these  poor  children, 
determined  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  avert  what  he  foresaw  would  be  the  con- 
sequences to  them  in  after  life.  He  used,  at  such  times,  to  send  for  them  to 
come  and  stay  with  his  own  children,  and,  after  calming  their  minds,  would 
either  leave  them  to  themselves,  or,  if  he  found  them  still  agitated  with  ter- 
ror, he  would  amuse  them  by  playing  on  his  flute,  and  sometimes  set  all 
hands  to  dancing,  and  strive  in  various  ways  to  beguile  them  of  their  fears. 
It  came  at  last  to  be  considered  quite  a  holiday,  when  there  were  signs  of  an 
approaching  shower.  Those  children,  to  this  day,  remember  with  gratitude 
the  invaluable  service  he  rendered  them. 


HENRY    WARE.  205 

He  was  very  fond  of  the  society  of  children  and  young  people,  and  loved 
to  have  them  in  any  numbers  playing  about  him.  And  they  liked  him  for 
his  benignant,  though  always  grave,  sympathy.  lie  knew  how  to  treat  them 
in  one  respect.  lie  never  kissed  them  on  their  faces — he  kissed  their  hands. 
He  said  it  was  not  agreeable  to  children  to  be  kissed  by  aged  people.  He 
was  wise  here.  What  martyrdoms  children  have  to  undergo  in  being  kissed 
by  everybody  that  approaches  them,  especially  elderly  people.  They  hate  it. 
I  have  always  admired  Dr.  Ware's  practice  on  this  point,  as  one  of  the  high- 
est and  rarest  attainments  of  social  delicacy  and  tact. 

Dr.  Ware  was  all  through  life  very  watchful  against  habits  of  self-indul- 
gence. After  seventy,  he  received,  as  a  birthday  present  from  his  grandchild- 
ren, a  large  and  luxurious  easy  chair.  He  was  unwilling  to  use  it  for  a  long 
time,  for  fear  he  should  get  in  the  habit  of  depending  on  the  comfort  of  it. 

He  had  a  natural  baslifulness  or  diffidence,  which  he  never  entirely  got  over. 
I  have  heard  him  say  that,  after  forty  yea)s  in  his  profession,  he  still  trem- 
bled in  the  pulpit,  and  never  rose  to  speak  without  a  feeling  of  embarrass- 
ment. This  I  attribute  partly  to  his  extreme  modesty,  and  partly  to  the  pro- 
found reverence,  the  exceeding  awe,  (which  I  have  never  seen  surpassed,) 
with  which  he  regarded  the  Deitj'',  and  every  truth  that  pertained  to  Him, 
and  every  service  of  which  He  was  the  object.  Whenever  he  rose  to  pray  or 
preach,  he  knew  what  he  was  doing,  he  felt  where  he  stood, — and  he  trembled. 

Let  me  mention  one  of  his  professional  habits.  Most  clerg3-men,  I  am  sure, 
will  wonder  and  admire.  As  long  as  he  was  minister  of  Ilingham,  he  said  he 
never  slept  on  Sunday  night  till  he  had  selected  his  text,  and  planned  and 
begun  his  sermon  for  the  next  Sunday. 

From  natural  reserve,  and  a  great  abhorrence  of  cant,  he  was  never  a  great 
talker  on  religious  subjects,  even  with  his  children]  but  he  became  more  free 
and  communicative  in  his  last  years.  The  advance  of  age  affected  him,  as,  I 
believe,  it  always  does  good  men,  but  seldom  or  never  bad  men — it  made  him 
more  and  more  cheerful,  genial,  open  and  affectionate.  During  the  period  of 
his  decline,  he  did  not  care  to  hear  any  reading  but  from  the  Bible  and  reli- 
gious works.  Paley's  and  Sherlock's  Sermons  were  favourite  books;  also  the 
<<  Chapel  Liturgy."  After  his  sight  fiiiled,  he  amused  himself  much  with 
recalling  the  Sacred  poetry  he  had  learned  when  young;  and  in  the  night, 
before  he  went  to  sleep,  he  used  to  say  it  was  a  great  comfort  to  him  to  go 
over  even  the  little  hymns  of  his  childhood,  and  such  texts  of  Scripture  as 
he  could  remember  as  far  back  as  he  could  remember  any  thing.  In  his  last 
years  of  infirmity,  the  thought  of  death  and  a  future  state  was  always,  with 
him,  evidently  a  most  solemn  thought,  though  generally  a  cheerful  one.  And 
even  when,  to  all  appearance,  his  mental  faculties  were  suspended,  it  was 
evident,  fiom  occasional  expressions,  that  his  mind  ran  upon  the  same  sub- 
jects. He  would  ask,  as  if  addressing  another  person,  «<  Are  you  aware  of 
your  approaching  end  ?     Are  j^ou  prepared  for  this  great  change  ?" 

I  will  break  off  here,  for  I  am  aware  you  do  not  want  a  character  or  a 
eulogy.  You  do  not  need  to  be  told  how  all  who  knew  Dr.  Ware  respected 
him  for  his  wise  and  honest  mind,  his  kind  and  gentle  spirit,  and  his  blame- 
less life,  and  how  those  of  us  who  knew  him  best,  regarded  him  with  unwont- 
ed love  and  reverence. 

Very  cordially  and  respectfull}'-  yours, 

GP:0RGE  PUTNAM. 


206  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ARIEL  ABBOT  LIVERMORE. 

Cincinnati,  March  10,  1856. 

M}'  dear  Sir:  I  snatch  a  few  moments  from  many  pressing  duties  to  ans- 
wer, in  the  best  way  I  can,  j^our  request,  and  to  recall  the  venerated  image  of 
my  beloved  teacher  and  fiiend, —  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ware.  The  work  you  are 
engaged  in  is  a  noble  one,  and  maj'  j'ou  be  prospered  in  its  accomplishment. 
If  they  sweep  with  care  the  floor  of  the  mint  to  gather  up  the  smallest  frag- 
ments of  gold;  if  they  collect  with  diligence  the  dust  of  diamonds,  which 
flies  off"  in  the  process  of  manufacture;  with  what  reverent  care  should  we 
hoaid  up  the  precious  heart  and  mind, —  relics  of  the  venerable  worthies  of 
the  past. 

M}'  opportunities  for  knowing  the  character  of  Dr.  Ware  were  great.  I  was 
the  instructor,  for  longer  or  shorter  periods,  of  four  of  his  children, —  two 
sons  and  two  daughters.  I  chiefly  fitted  one  of  his  sons,  George,  who  after- 
wards died  in  California,  for  College.  I  boarded  in  his  family,  sat  at  his 
table,  and  heard  his  Table  Talk,  during  the  third  term  of  my  Junior  year, 
all  my  Senior  year  in  College,  and  during  the  three  years  of  my  professional 
education  in  the  Divinity  School.  During  my  whole  residence  at  Cambridge 
of  six  years,  I  heard  Dr.  Ware  preach  at  least  one-half  of  the  time. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  say  that  the  better  any  one  knew  him,  the  more 
he  would  love  and  reverence  him.  He  was  the  most  candid  and  amiable  of 
men,  a  very  woman  in  tenderness  and  love,  and  a  hero,  in  his  fearless  advo- 
cacy of  his  own  honest  convictions. 

His  conversation  was  very  instructive,  and  I  regret  now  that  I  did  not  note 
down  at  the  time  many  of  the  gems  of  thought  Avhich  fell  from  his  lips,  dur- 
ing the  unreserved  and  familiar  intercourse  of  so  many  years.  We  often  sat 
and  talked  together  after  the  boarders  had  gone,  especially  after  tea,  during 
the  twilight,  before  the  studies  of  the  evening  began.  His  mind  took  a  free 
range  over  almost  all  subjects, —  religion,  philosophy,  history,  characters,  the 
economies  of  life,  manners,  morals,  &c.  I  recollect  his  once  saying  that  none 
of  our  American  scholars,  except  Edward  Everett,  had  been  to  Germany  to 
study,  without  being  injured  by  it. 

Dr.  Ware  was  the  soul  of  candour  and  fairness.  He  held  the  golden  mean 
in  every  thing.  It  seemed  to  be  his  desire  to  do  perfect  justice  to  every  opin- 
ion, every  action  or  character,  which  came  before  him.  He  taught,  in  the  lec- 
ture room,  to  distrust  violent  partisans  on  any  side;  to  winnow  out  the  grains 
of  pure  wheat  from  the  most  unpromising  heaps  of  chaff",  and  to  love  and 
cherish  truth  at  every  cost.  And  all  this  genial  grace  of  candour  which  he 
practised  there  in  his  daily  exercises,  on  Sunday  he  carried  up  into  the 
pulpit,  and  solemnized  Avith  Pra3'er  and  the  dignity  of  the  Sermon.  As  a 
preacher,  he  was  too  logical,  sensible,  modern  te  and  unimaginative  to  strike 
the  fancy  of  young  college  students.  It  was  only  when  their  own  minds  had 
grown-up  to  his  serene  and  stormless  height  of  contemplation,  that  they  felt 
the  exquisite  charm  of  his  beautiful  spirit.  He  was  too  rounded,  too  free 
from  angles  and  extremes,  to  be  easily  grasped  and  held;  but  his  wisdom, 
where  it  met  a  prepared  and  waiting  spirit,  I  used  to  think  was  as  nearly 
perfect  as  any  thing  earthly  I  have  met  with. 

Accept  the  above,  with  m}^  best  wishes  for  your  health  and  happiness,  and 
make  such  use  of  it  as  you  deem  best. 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

A.  A.  LIVERMORE. 


JOHN     ALLYN.  207 

FROM  THE  REV.  A.  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  April  G,  1864. 

iJear  Sir:  I  can  hardly  add  to  the  excellent  sketch  of  the  elder  Dr.  Ware, 
already  in  your  hands;  but  I  have  distinctly  in  my  memory  one  very  impressive 
scene  in  his  life,  strikingly  illustrative  of  the  union  of  firmness  and  tenderness 
which  all  who  knew  him  well,  recognized  in  his  character.  At  one  of  the  pub- 
lic examinations  of  my  College  class,  at  which  the  Faculty  in  general  were 
present, —  it  must  have  been,  I  think,  in  the  summer  of  1826, —  a  message 
was  brought  to  the  Examining  Board,  which  caused  their  instant  dispersion. 
Many  of  us  students,  not  knowing  the  purport  of  the  message,  but  seeing  the 
Faculty  moving  in  a  body  in  the  direction  of  Charles  River,  followed  them. 
Soon  after  our  arrival  at  the  bank  of  the  river,  a  student  of  another  class,  who 
had  been  diving  for  that  purpose,  rose  with  the  lifeless  body  of  a  beautiful  boy 
of  ten  or  twelve  j'ears  in  his  arms.  It  was  a  son  of  Dr.  AYare.  He  took  the 
child  at  once,  held  him  while  the  pliysicians  present  ascertained  that  there 
was  no  hope  of  recovery,  and  then  superintended  the  arrangements  for  his  con- 
veyance home.  Through  the  whole  he  was  perfectly  self-possessed,  and  yet 
exhibited  an  absolutely  motherly  tenderness;  and  his  aspect  during  that  ago- 
nizing season  has  constantly  recurred  to  my  remembrance  as  indicating  the 
iutensest  parental  feeling,  only  the  more  vividly  manifest  for  the  entire 
calmness  and  serenity  of  his  mien  and  manner.  On  the  following  Sunday,  he 
appeared  as  usual  in  the  pulpit,  but  not,  as  usual,  with  one  of  those  lectures 
of  his  stated  course,  which  we  used  to  think  somewhat  dry  and  wearisome.  I 
think  there  were  but  few  eyes  unmoistened  during  the  service.  He  preached 
from  the  quaint  text, — "  I  will  work,  and  who  shall  let  it?"  The  sermon,  in 
composition  and  delivery,  seemed  like  a  rehearsal  of  the  half  hour  by  tlie 
river-side.  It  made  no  parade  of  feeling;  no  direct  reference  indeed  to  the 
scene  so  fresh  in  our  minds.  It  was  a  touching  statement  of  the  baffling  and 
appalling  mysteries  of  the  Divine  Providence,  with  the  simplest  possible 
expression  of  trust  in  the  wisdom  and  mercy  which  it  transcends  tlie  vision  of 
man  to  trace  and  verify;  the  whole  so  phrased  and  uttered  as  to  make  it  evi- 
dent that  it  represented  the  'very  processes  of  thought  and  feeling  by  which 
he  had  schooled  his  own  heart  to  faith  and  submission.  It  was  an  eminently 
logical  sermon,  and,  as  a  mere  scholastic  exercise,  fully  equal  to  the  most 
subtile  of  his  dogmatic  discussions,  but  at  the  same  time  tremulously  full  of 
emotion,  all  the  more  appreciable  by  eye  and  ear,  because  controlled  and  chast- 
ened. I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Very  truly  yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 


JOHN  ALLYN,  D.  D.* 

1788—1833. 

John  Allyn,  a  son  of  James  Allyn,  was  born  in  Barnstable,  Mass.,  on 
the  21st  of  March,  1767.  His  father  was  a  chair-maker  by  occupation. 
The  religious  faith  in  which  he  was  brought  up  was  the  Arminianism, 
which,  at  that  time,  prevailed  in  that  part  of  Massachusetts.  He  was 
fitted  for  College  under  the  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hilliard,  then 
minister  of  Barnstable,  but  afterwards  the  colleague  and  successor  of  the 

*  Mass.  Hist.  Coll.  Vol.  V.  3(1  Series. — Ms.  from  Rev.  Dr.  Francis. 


208  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Bev.  Dr.  Appleton  of  Cambridge.  He  entered  Harvard  University  in 
1781,  and  graduated  in  1785,  at  the  early  age  of  eighteen. 

During  his  whole  academic  course,  he  was  a  diligent  and  successful  stu- 
dent, and  was  regarded  as  possessing  an  intellect  of  a  decidedly  superior 
order.  Near  the  close  of  his  collegiate  course,  he  was  seized  with  a  severe 
illness,  which,  for  a  while,  put  his  life  in  jeopardy,  and  prevented  him 
from  appearing  in  the  part  assigned  to  him  at  the  Commencement.  On 
leaving  College,  he  returned  to  Barnstable,  where  he  was  engaged  for  a 
while  in  teaching  a  school.  Having  determined  to  devote  himself  to  the 
work  of  the  ministry,  he  studied  Theology  under  the  direction  of  the  able 
and  learned,  but  highly  eccentric,  Dr.  Samuel  West,  of  Dartmouth. 

In  September,  1788,  having  been  licensed  to  preach,  he  received  an 
invitation  from  the  Church  and  Society  in  Duxbury  to  become  their  Pastor. 
On  the  12th  of  October  following,  he  signified  his  acceptance  of  their  call; 
and,  on  the  3d  of  December,  the  pastoral  relation  was  constituted  by  the 
usual  solemnities.  The  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  his  theo- 
logical instructor.  Dr.  West,  from  2  Timothy,  ii,  15,  and  was  published, 
in  connection  with  the  Charge  by  Dr.  Hitchcock  of  Pembroke,  and  the 
Right  Hand  of  Fellowship,  by  the  Ptev.  David  Barnes  of  Scituate. 

In  1804,  Mr.  Allyn  delivered  the  Anniversary  Oration  before  the  Phi 
Beta  Kappa  Society,  in  Harvard  College.  In  the  summer  of  1807,  he  was 
employed  on  a  missionary  tour  in  Maine,  by  the  Society  for  Propagating 
the  Gospel  among  the  Indians  and  others  in  North  America.  In  1808, 
he  was  elected  a  Fellow  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences. 
In  1809,  he  delivered  the  Dudleian  Lecture  in  Harvard  College,  on  Supre- 
macy and  Infallibility.  In  1813,  he  was  honoured,  by  his  Alma  Mater, 
with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity. 

In  1820,  Dr.  Allyn  was  sent,  by  the  town  of  Duxbury,  as  a  delegate  to 
the  Convention  for  revising  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts.  He  took 
great  interest  in  the  proceedings  of  that  Body  ;  and,  though  he  made  no 
speeches,  great  deference  is  said  to  have  been  paid  to  his  judgment  on  the 
various  questions  that  came  up  for  consideration. 

Dr.  Allyn  continued  sole  Pastor  of  his  church  till  June  7,  1826,  when 
the  Rev.  Benjamin  Kent*  was  settled  as  his  colleague.  After  that  time, 
he  seldom  engaged  in  any  public  services,  and  it  was  manifest  that  both 
his  strength  and  his  spirits  were  gradually  declining.  The  disease  which 
terminated  his  life  was  a  mild  form  of  paralysis.  He  died  on  Friday,  July 
19,  1833,  and  his  Funeral  was  attended  on  the  Monday  following,  when  an 
appropriate  Discourse  was  delivered  by  his  friend  and  college  classmate, 
the  elder  Professor  Ware,  of  Harvard  University,  from  Luke  xx,  36.      His 

*  Benjamin  Kent,  a  son  of  Samuel  and  Rhoda  (Hill)  Kent,  was  born  in  the  part  of 
Charle-stown  which  is  now  Somerville,  Mass.,  25th  May,  179-i.  He  graduated  with  high  honour 
at  Harvard  College  in  1811 ;  studied  Theology  at  the  Divinity  School,  Cambridge;  was  set- 
tled as  colleague  of  Dr.  Allyn,  at  Duxbury,  in  1826;  and  was  dismissed  on  account  of  the 
failure  of  liis  lieulth,  June  7,  18;'>3.  From  Duxbury  ho  removed  to  Roxbury,  where  he  taught 
an  Academy  for  young  ladies  for  a  number  of  years.  He  was  afterwards  Librarian  of  the 
Roxbury  Atlienxum,  until  tlie  feeble  state  of  his  health  compelled  him  to  relinquish  the  post. 
From  the  effect  of  severe  and  long  continued  head-aches,  he  finally  became  insane,  and  died 
at  the  Insane  Hospital  in  Taunton,  Mass.,  August  5,  1859,  aged  sixty-five.  He  was  a  man 
of  superior  intellect,  atid  a  great  lover  of  antiquity.  Not  many  years  before  his  death,  he 
delivered  the  Annnal  Poem  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  in  Harvard  College.  He  was 
married,  September  27,  1826,  to  Eleanor  Bradford  of  Boston.  They  had  four  children, — all 
daughters,  wlio,  with  their  mother,  survived  him. 


JOHN     ALLYN.  209 

remains  were  deposited  in  the  tomb  of  a  liiglily  respected  parisliioner  and 
friend,  tlie  Hon.  George  Partridge,  one  of  the  patriots  of  the  Revolution. 
Dr.  Allyn  died  in  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the  forty-fifth 
of  his  ministry. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Allyn's  published  writings : — 

A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Alden  Bradford,*  in  the  East 
Parish  of  Pownalborough,  1793  ;  A  Sermon  preached  on  the  Day  of 
Public  Thanksgiving,  1798;  A  Sermon  preached  at  Hanover,  entitled 
"  The  Flesh  and  the  Spirit,"  1799.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  Plymouth  ou 
the  Anniversary  of  the  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  1801.  A  Sermon 
preached  on  occasion  of  the  General  p]lection,  1805.  A  New  Year's  Ser- 
mon, delivered  at  Duxbury,  1806.  Christian  Monitor,  No.  I,  1806.  A 
Sermon  preached  before  the  Academy  at  Sandwich,  1808.  A  Charge 
at  the  Ordination  of  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  1817.  A  Charge  at  the  Ordina- 
tion of  Benjamin  Kent,  as  Associate  Pastor  with  Dr.  Allyn,  in  Duxbury, 
1826. 

Dr.  Allyn  likewise  published  two  very  characteristic  and  striking  Obit- 
uary notices, — one  of  Dr.  West,  of  New  Bedford,  (Dartmouth,)  and  the 
other  of  Dr.  Barnes,  of  Scituate. 

In  1791  or  '92,  he  was  married  to  Abigail  Bradford,  a  daughter  of 
Job  and  Elizabeth  Bradford,  then  living  in  Boston,  and  a  lineal  descend- 
ant from  William  Bradford,  the  ancient  Plymouth  Governor.  Mrs.  Allyn's 
mother's  name  was  Elizabeth  Parkman.  They  had  five  cliildren.  Two 
of  tlie  sons  were  graduated  at  Harvard  College — Rufus Bradford,  in  1810, 
who  engaged  in  the  profession  of  Law  ;  and  John,  in  1814,  who  studied 
Divinity  at  Cambridge,  but,  a/ter  preaching  for  a  short  time,  left  the  pro- 
fession, and  became  a  school-teacher.  He  died  of  consumption,  at  his 
father's  h'ouse,  in  March,  1824.  One  daughter  was  married  to  the  Rev. 
Convers  Francis. t  Mrs.  Allyn  died  at  the  house  of  her  son-in-law.  Dr. 
Francis,  in  Watertown,  in  November,  1838,  aged  seventy-five  years. 

*  Alden  Bradford,  a  descendant  of  Governor  Bradford,  was  born  in  Duxbury,  Mass.,  ini 
1765;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1786;  was  Tutor  there  from  1791  to  179.5;  was- 
settled  as  Pastor  of  a  Congregational  Church  in  East  Pownalborough,  Me.,  in  1793;  and, 
after  continuing  there  for  eight  years,  engaged  in  the  book  trade  in  Boston,  as  a  partner  of 
the  firm  of  Bradford  &  Read.  Leaving  trade  for  politics,  he  was  Secretary  of  State  in  Mas- 
sachusetts from  1812  to  1824.  He  died  in  Boston  October  26,  1843,  aged  seventy-eight.  He 
published  Two  Sermons  on  the  Doctrines  of  Christ,  preached  at  Cambridge,  1794;  A  Dis- 
course on  occasion  of  the  Opening  of  the  Academy  at  Hallowell,  1795  ;  Two  Sermons  preached 
at  AViscasser,  (Pownalborough,)  1798;  A  Eulogy  on  George  Washington,  1800;  A  Sermon 
preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Nathan  Tilton ;  [who  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1796;  was  ordained  at  Scarborough,  Me.,  in  December,  1800,  and  died  in  1851 ;]  an  Oration 
on  the  Fourth  of  July,  delivered  at  Wiscasset,  1804;  a  Sermon  preached  at  Plymouth  on  the^ 
Anniversary  of  the  Landing  of  our  Forefathers,  1805;  a  Sermon  delivered  at  Thomaston, 
Me.,  on  occasion  of  the  Death  of  the  Hon.  Henry  Knox,  1806;  Biography  of  Governor  Caleb 
Strong,  1820;  An  Essay  on  State  Rights,  1824;  A  Particular  Account  of  the  Battle  of  Bun- 
ker's or  Breed  s  Hill,  1825;  History  of  Massachusetts  from  1764  to  1765,  8vo.,  1825;  History 
of  Massachusetts  from  July  1775  to  1789,  .8  vo.,  1825;  History  of  Massachusetts  from  1790 
to  1820,  8  vo.,  1829;  Address  before  the  Massachusetts  Temperance  Society,  1826;  A  Dis- 
course before  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel  among  the  Indians,  1830;  Life  of  the 
Picv.  Jonathan  Mayhew,  D.  D.,  8vo.,  1838;  History  of  the  Federal  Government  for  Fifty 
Years,  from  March,  1789,  to  March,  1839,  8vo.,  1840;  Biographical  Notices  of  Distinguished 
Men  in  New  England, — Statesmen,  Patriots,  Physicians,  Lawyers,  Clergymen  and  Mechan- 
ics, 12mo.,  1842;  New  England  Chronology  from  the  Discovery  of  the  Country  by  Cabot  in. 
1497  to  1820,  8vo.,  1843;  Description  of  Wiscasset,  Me.  [Mass.  Hist.  Coll.  Vol.  VII;]  Notes- 
on  Duxbury,  Mass.  [Mass.  Hist.  Coll.  Vol.  X,  2d  series.] 

f  CoNVERS  Francis,  a  son  of  Convers  and  Susannah  (Rand)  Francis,  was  born  at  Jleno- 
tomy,  now  West  Cambridge,  on  the  9th  of  November,  1795.  But  while  he  was  yet  an  infant,, 
his  father  removed  to  Medford,  where  the  son  spent  his  early  years,  partly  in  hard  work  and; 

Vol.  Yin.  14 


210  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  CONVERS  FRANCIS,  D.  D. 

PROFESSOR    m    HARVARD    COLLEGE. 

Cambridge,  January  17,  1853. 
Dear  Sir:  When  I  first  knew  Dr.  Allyn  personally,  he  had  passed  the 
period  when  his  powers  were  most  full  and  fresh,  and  something  of  decay 
might  be  observed  in  him.  Still,  however,  there  was  a  remarkable  brightness 
in  his  best  hours;  and  his  genius  gleamed  out  frequently  in  a  way  which  would 
have  induced  any  observer,  I  think,  to  infer  that  he  was  really  an  extraordinary 
man.  On  my  first  acquaintance  with  him,  I  was  struck  with  the  genial  reality 
of  every  thing  about  him,  both  in  deportment  and  action.  The  wisdom  of  a 
sage  seemed  to  be  invested  with  the  naturalness,  and  frequently  with  the  frolic- 
heartiness,  of  a  child.  I  always  found  that  his  quaint  truthfulness,  and  his 
exceedingly  apt  and  amusing  illustrations,  made  a  deep  impression,  especially 
upon  young  people.  He  seemed  to  be  a  revelation  of  a  new  sort  of  character 
to  them;  and  they  listened  to  him  and  looked  at  him  with  delighted  wonder. 
I  have  heard  that  when,  to  enlarge  a  very  scanty  income,  he  took  boys  into 
his  family  as  pupils,  his  influence  upon  them  was  of  a  very  remarkable  kind. 

partly  in  going  to  school.  He  was  fitted  for  college,  in  about  fourteen  months,  at  a  private 
school,  taught  by  a  Dr.  Hosmer,  and  entered  at  Harvard  in  1811.  After  graduating  in 
1816,  he  r«turned  to  Medford,  and  took  charge  of  a  school  for  boys,  and  continued  in  that 
employment  for  one  year.  In  the  autumn  of  1816,  he  went  to  Cambridge  to  study  Theology, 
and  remained  there  till  November,  1818,  when  he  received  approbation  to  preach  from  the 
Boston  Association.  During  the  following  winter,  he  preached  a  good  deal  at  the  North 
Church  in  Salem,  whose  Pastor,  the  Rev.  John  Emery  Abbot,  was  then  absent  in  the  West 
Indies  for  his  health.  Early  in  the  spring  of  1819,  he  preached  three  or  four  Sabbaths  in 
Watertown,  Mass.,  and,  in  due  time,  was  invited,  by  the  concurrent  voice  of  the  church  and 
the  town,  to  settle  among  them  in  the  Gospel  ministry.  He  accepted  the  invitation,  and  was 
ordained  and  installed  on  the  23d  of  June,  Dr.  Osgood,  of  Medford,  preaching  the  Sermon, 
lu  May,  1842,  he  was  appointed  to  the  Professorship  of  Sacred  Eloquence  and  the  Pastoral 
Care  in  the  Divinity  School  connected  with  Harvard  College.  He  accepted  the  appointment, 
delivered  his  Farewell  Sermon  on  the  21st  of  August,  and  removed  to  Cambridge  in  time  to 
commence  his  duties  there  the  following  term.  Here  he  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life,  and 
died  on  the  7th  of  April,  1863.  He  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College  in  1837.  He  was  the  father  of  six  children,  two  of  whom  only  survived  him, 
— a  son  and  a  daughter.  The  son,  George  Ehenezer,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1858,  and  is  a  bookseller  in  Cambridge.  Mrs.  Francis  died  on  the  17th  of  December,  1860. 
His  publications  are.  The  Right  Hand  of  Fellowship  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Charles  Brooks, 
in  Hingham,  1821 ;  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Kent,  as  Associate 
Pastor  with  the  Rev.  John  Allyn,  D.  D.  in  the  Congregational  Church  at  Duxbury,  1826; 
iErrors  in  Education :  A  Discourse  delivered  in  Bedford,  before  the  Middlesex  Bible  Society, 
1828:  A  Dii'course  delivered  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Derby  Academy  in  Hingham,  1828, 
(two  editions;)  An  Address  delivered  at  Watertown  on  the  Fourth  of  Julj',  1828;  An  Histo- 
rical Sketch  of  Watertown,  Mass.  from  the  First  Settlement  of  the  Town  to  the  Close  of  its 
-Second  Oentury,  1830;  The  "Address''  to  the  Society  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Thomas  B. 
Fox  in  Newburyport,  1831 ;  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Oliver  Stearns  to 
the  Pastoral  Care  of  the  Second  Congregational  Society  in  Northampton,  1831 ;  A  Discourse 
•  delivered  at  Plymouth  in  Commemoration  of  the  Landing  of  the  Fathers,  1831 ;  The  Charge 
at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Edward  B.  Hall  in  Providence,  1832;  "  The  Dust  to  Earth, 
•the  Spirit  to  God  :"  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Congregational  Society  in  Watertown, 
1833;  The  Dudleian  Lecture,  delivered  before  the  University  of  Cambridge,  1833 ;  Three 
'Discourses  preached  before  the  Congregational  Society  in  Watertown, — two  upon  Leaving  the 
Old  Meeting  House,  and  one  at  the  Dedication  of  the  New,  1836;  Life  of  John  Eliot,  the 
Apostle  to  the  Indians,  (Sparks'  American  Biography, )  1836;  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  John 
Allyn,  D.  D.,  of  Duxbury,  1836  ;  Memoir  of  Dr.  Gamaliel  Bradford,  1846  ;  Memoir  of  Judge 
■Davis,  1819;  [the  last  three  were  published  in  the  Collections  of  the  Massachusetts  Histo- 
rical Society;]  The  Death  of  the  Aged:  A  Discourse  occasioned  by  the  Death  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Riploy,  of  Concord,  1841 ;  The  Address  to  the  People  at  the  Ordination  of  John  Pierpont, 
.Jr.,  at  Lynn,  1843;  Life  of  Sebastian  Rale,  Missionary  to  the  Indians,  (Sparks'  American 
Biography,  new  series,)  1845;  The  Address  to  the  People  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Horatio 
Stebbins,  1850;  The  Charge  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Edwin  M.  Wheelock  ;  1857.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  above,  he  published  many  articles  in  the  Christian  Disciple,  the  Christian  Exa- 
miner, the  American  Monthly  Review,  the  Unitarian  Advocate,  the  Scriptural  Interpreter, 
also  translations  from  Herder,  several  Sermons  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  and  several  Tracts 
published  by  the  American  Unitarian  Association.  Dr.  Francis  was  a  man  of  a  well  balanced 
and  richly  stored  mind,  of  an  eminently  genial  spirit  and  simple  but  attractive  manners,  and 
was  greatly  esteemed  in  every  circle  where  he  was  known.  During  an  acquaintance  with 
iliim  of  many  years,  I  always  found  him  prompt,  communicative  and  obliging. 


JOHN     ALLYN.  211 

He  had  his  own  peculi<ar  ■way  of  managing  them,  and  they  loved  and  venerated 
him,  notwithstanding  occasional  eccentricities.  He  used  to  say, — <<  I  do  with 
my  boys  as  with  my  sheep;  I  take  the  basket  of  corn  and  go  before  them,  and 
they  follow  me."  He  would  often  place  his  arm-chair  under  a  tree  in  his 
orchard,  and  there,  amidst  the  greenness  and  the  beauty  of  nature,  and  the 
wliolesome  sweet  air  of  the  fields,  he  would  call  the  boys  around  him,  and 
hear  their  lessons,  interspersing  the  exercises  with  amusing  and  wise  remarks. 
The.'^e  scenes,  I  am  told,  some  of  them  still  remember  as  bright  and  happy 
hours.  Sometimes,  when  a  boy  came  to  him,  who  said  he  did  not  want  to 
stud}',  the  Doctor  would  reply, — <«  Well,  j'ou  need  not;  you  may  go  and  run 
about  the  furm."  The  consequence  was  that  the  boy  soon  grew  Aveary  of 
being  alone  and  idle,  especially  as  he  saw  the  other  boys  studious  and  happy, 
and  would  come  and  ask  to  have  his  lesson  set,  and  go  to  work  as  busily  as 
the  rest. 

When  he  was  in  good  spirits,  I  think  I  never  knew  any  thing  of  the  kind 
that  equalled  his  genial  vivacity  and  keen  vigour  of  remark.  It  was  surprising 
to  see  out  of  how  trifling  an  incident,  out  of  how  casual  a  suggestion,  he  would 
create  a  rich  fund  of  conversation,  going  on  from  one  thing  to  another  in  the 
most  delightful  waj',  till  the  company  wondered  to  see  whither  they  had  come 
from  so  small  a  beginning.  In  the  midst  of  playfulness  he  frequently  sug- 
gested great  principles  with  singular  power.  Every  one  who  knew  him  well, 
would,  I  am  sure,  vouch  for  all  this, — though  it  is  not  easy  to  cite  particular 
instances  of  it,  especially  as  the  force  of  such  things  depends  so  much  on  the 
occasion  and  circumstances. 

In  Theology  Dr.  Allyn  was  very  decidedly  a  Unitarian,  upon  serious  and 
earnest  conviction;  and  he  never  was  a  man  to  disguise  or  undervalue  his 
faith;  but  I  have  seldom  known  one  who  had  so  strong  an  aversion  to  contro- 
versy. Not  unfrequently  he  spoke  of  it  in  terms  expressive  even  of  thorough 
contempt.  I  remember  the  surprise  and  regret  he  expressed,  when  his  old 
and  beloved  friend.  Dr.  Ware,  engaged  in  the  controversy  with  Dr.  Woods. 
In  this  as  in  some  other  matters,  he  was  wont  to  push  a  favourite  notion  to 
such  an  extreme,  that  it  became  as  one-sided  as  the  error  to  which  it  was 
opposed.  The  odd  expressions  he  frequently  used  on  religious  subjects  some- 
times startled  and  offended  those  who  require  every  thing  of  this  kind  to  be 
measured  by  a  conventional  standard  of  gravity.  But  no  one  could  know  Dr. 
Allyn  without  perceiving  that  he  had  the  deepest  reverence  for  sacred  things. 
Tokens  and  evidences  of  this,  which  broke  out  spontaneously  and  often,  I  call 
to  mind  with  pleasant  recollection  from  his  habitual  feelings  and  conduct. 

As  to  the  particular  form  of  Unitarianism  which  Dr.  Allyn  held,  I  think  I 
may  safely  saj"-  that  he  was  an  Arian.  Such,  at  any  rate,  has  always  been 
my  impression  ;  and  it  has  been  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  his  intimate 
friend  and  neighbour,  Dr.  Kendall,  of  Plj'mouth.  The  Doctor  mentions,  as 
an  illustrative  anecdote,  that,  at  his  house.  Dr.  Allyn  once  had  a  conversation 
with  the  Rev.  JNIr.  Burr,  of  Sandwich,  after  the  latter  had  become  a  Calvinist; 
and  that  when  Mr.  B.  maintained  his  new  views  with  great  earnestness  and 
zeal.  Dr.  A.  replied  that,  after  his  (Mr.  B.'s)  former  opinions,  it  was  very 
natural  he  should  vibrate  to  the  opposite  extreme;  that  he  had  once  been  (to 
use  Dr.  A.'s  expression)  "  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill  "  in  Socinianism,  and  it 
Avas  natural  his  next  leap  should  be  to  the  extreme  of  Calvinism.  Dr.  K. 
understood  Dr.  A.  to  mean,  on  that  and  on  other  occasions,  that  he  had  no 
sympathy  with  either  of  these  views;  and  Dr.  K.  always  supposed  that  his 
religious  views  accorded  with  those  of  Doctors  Gay,  Shute,  Hitchcock,  Barnes 
and  others  of  the  Bay  Association  at  that  time. 

He  had  a  way  of  conveying  a  rebuke  or  giving  advice,  that  sometimes  was 
the  more  effective  for  the  humour  with  which  it  Avas  spiced.     He  once  asked  a 


212  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

fanatical  itinerant,  who  had  raised  some  excitement  in  Duxbury,  why  he  came 
there  to  disturb  the  religious  peace  of  the  village.  "  Because,"  said  the 
man, — "  Christ  lias  commanded  us  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature." 
<<  Yes,"  replied  Dr.  AUyn, — "  but  He  has  not  commanded  ev^ry  cnaturc  to 
preach  the  Gospel."  Sometimes,  by  a  deeply  serious  turn,  quite  unexpected, 
he  would  produce  a  very  solemn  effect.  On  occasion  of  a  family  baptism,  one 
of  the  children  was,  as  he  knew,  a  very  profane  bo}' :  when  the  Doctor  bap- 
tized him  in  the  usual  form,  as  he  placed  his  hand  on  tlie  youth's  head,  he 
addtd  these  woids: — '<  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in 
vain."     The  efifect,  it  is  said,  was  very  impressive  and  very  salutarj''. 

His  benevolence  was  proverbial.  I  recollect  that  he  used  often  to  go  to  the 
cottages  in  the  woods  in  distant  parts  of  his  parish,  and  carry  a  load  of  good 
things  in  hi.^  sleigh  or  chaise,  for  the  poor,  especially  for  the  old  and  sick.  He 
would  call  several  of  these  families  together  at  one  of  their  houses,  hold  with 
them  a  religious  service  of  a  veiy  impressive,  plain,  practical  character;  and 
then  distribute  among  them  what  he  had  brought  for  their  comfort.  He 
delighted  to  do  such  things  as  these,  and  his  name  was  hallowed  in  the  grati- 
tude of  the  poor  and  friendless. 

It  was  always  evident,  I  think,  to  those  who  knew  Dr.  Allyn,  that  he  was 
fitted  for  a  much  higher  sphere  than  that  in  which  his  lot  >vas  cast,  and  that, 
in  another  situation,  his  peculiar  powers  would  have  been  much  better  brought 
out.     But  no  man  ever  showed  less  of  ambitious  impatience  with  his  lot. 

I  do  not  think  of  any  thing  more  that  it  is  important  for  me  to  add,  but  I 
am  happy  to  send  you  the  following  notice  of  Dr.  Allyn  furnished  by  a  mem- 
ber of  his  family,  who  had  the  best  opportunities  for  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  his  character  and  peculiarities,  and  who,  though  cherishing  his  memory 
with  deep  affection,  gives,  without  bias,  a  simple  and  truthful  record  of  fami- 
liar impressions. 

"  Dr.  Allyn  had  always  the  zeal  and  the  ardour  that  belong  to  genius, 
without  ever  concentrating  it  upon  any  particular  subject.  Had  he  turned  his 
whole  soul  on  any  one  object, —  had  he  been  a  scholar,  or  an  artist,  he  would 
have  been  great.  He  had  the  spirit  of  a  reformer,  and  would  have  had  the 
courage  of  Martin  Luther,  if  he  had  lived  in  his  time.  He  began  life  with 
high  aims,  and  a  pure  love  of  his  profession,  in  all  its  various  objects.  From 
his  later  life  it  might  be  inferred  that  in  his  earlier  days  he  was  precocious, 
and  even  prematurely  old.  In  his  childhood  and  youth,  he  was  said,  by  those 
Avho  knew  him  at  that  period,  to  have  been  much  beloved  by  his  companions, 
and  j'et  to  have  been  often  in  the  habit  of  doing  little  things  to  make  them 
uncomfortable,  by  way,  as  it  would  seem,  of  trial  to  their  affection,  or  else 
from  some  unaccountable  waywardness  of  feeling.  This  trait  might  not  be 
thought  worth  mentioning,  but  for  the  fact  that  the  habit,  in  some  degree, 
followed  him  through  life.  He  lived  an  outward  life;  the  workings  of  his 
mind  and  heart  were  ever  spontaneous  and  fresh.  His  best  and  brightest 
things  were  ever  on  the  surface.  It  required  an  unsophisticated  intellect  to 
comprehend  the  meaning  of  many  of  his  thoughts  and  modes  of  expression, 
which  are  generally  matured  by  an  ordinary  process  of  words  and  common- 
places, and,  in  being  thus  matured  and  brought  to  light,  lose  half  their  strength 
and  raciness.  Thus  the  common  mind  seemed  oftenest  to  comprehend  his 
meaning,  and  he  sought  and  found  in  the  walks  of  daily  life,  among  the  lowly, 
more  sympathy  and  recognition  than  he  experienced  in  what  is  called  the 
higher  circles  of  society.  He  had  ready  sympathies  for  all,  and  none  ever 
sought  his  forgiveness  in  \ain.  He  delighted  in  the  young,  and  Avas  truly 
never  so  happy  as  when  aiding  in  the  development  of  the  mind  and  heart,  and 
watching  the  simple  growth  of  the  young  spirit.  He  loved  nature  in  all  its 
aspects  and  connections,  and  was  often  seen  in  all  the  periods  of  his  life,  out 


JOHN    ALLYN.  213 

of  doors  in  some  shady  place,  or  bj-  llie  running  brook.,  attending  to  the  les- 
sons or  the  reading  of  his  various  pupils.  In  their  recitations,  lie  was  not 
only  the  book-teacher,  but  he  delighted  to  dwell  on  the  spirit  and  beauty  of 
the  author,  and  thus  wrought  on  the  minds  of  his  pupils  with  triple  cords  of 
love,  dut}"^  and  justice.  He  suffered  no  opportunity  to  pass  unimproved  to 
awaken  in  others  a  zeal  for  improvement  and  a  love  of  virtue.  In  his  religion, 
he  was  by  no  means  regardless  of  forms,  though  he  did  not  rest  in  them.  For 
many  years  he  was  almost  alone,  among  the  clerg}-  in  his  neighbourhood,  in 
the  belief  and  profession  of  Unitarian  views,  and  in  many  instances  was  a 
poweiful  agent  in  producing  the  conviction  that  those  views  had  their  root  and 
life  from  the  Bible.  lie  loved  the  Fathers,  as  he  called  them, — the  strong 
pillars  of  the  Ancient  Church.  He  read  them  with  great  interest,  as  also  the 
old  eminent  English  divines.  Though  decided  in  his  own  opinions,  he  was 
never  a  bigot  or  sectarian,  but  allowed  and  respected  all  honest  convictions, 
however  widely  different  from  his  own.  Truly  catholic  in-  his  temj)er,  he 
loved  all  that  was  good  in  humanity,  and  had  a  ready  eye  to  discover  it. 

"  In  the  winter  of  1820,  Dr.  AUyn  attended  the  Convention  in  Boston  for 
the  amendment  of  the  State  Constitution.  He  stayed  with  a  friend,  (now 
departed,  the  Rev.  Ilenr}'  Colnian,*)  who  understood,  appreciated  and 
humouied  him.  There  are  those  living  who  remember  the  cheerful  humour 
with  which  he  carried  himself  at  tliat  time.  In  the  home  of  a  favourite  friend, 
surrounded  bj^  a  group  of  young  persons,  who  hung  on  his  word  with  eager 
expectation,  and  who  were  ever  read}'  to  be  amused  and  edified  with  his  quick 
wit  and  the  bold  freedom  of  his  caustic  wisdom,  he  was  peculiarly  happy. 
Ever  fond  of  the  young,  he  was  ever  an  object  of  interest  and  affection  to 
them.  This  winter  of  1820  in  Boston,  when  he  was  nursed  in  the  lap  of  kind 
friendship,  left  him,  for  a  time,  a  changed  man  in  his  habits.  When  he  returned 
home,  he  seemed  for  a  long  time  a  stranger  in  his  own  house,  and  to  havfe  for- 
gotten or  laid  aside  his  attention  to  the  thousand  little  household  minutiae, 
which  sometimes  engi-oss  too  deeply  even  great  minds.  It  has  been  thought 
that  had  he  been  differently  located  in  life,  where  there  would  have  been 
greater  demands  on  his  powers  of  mind,  he  might  have  been  a  happier  and  more 
useful  man.  One  who  knew  and  loved  him  well,  says  of  him, — <  One  of  his 
characteristic  traits  was  a  knowledge  of  himself,  his  own  powers,  and  the 
precise  point  where  his  strength  lay,  and  the  best  mode  of  applying  it.  Many, 
if  not  most,  men,  whose  fame  has  gone  a  little  abroad,  and  whose  world  ex- 

*  Henry  Coljian  was  born  in  Boston  September  12,  1785;  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth 
College  in  1805;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Minister  of  the  Second  Congregational  Church 
in  Hingham,  Mass.  in  1807  ;  and  remained  there  until  1820.  From  1825  to  1831,  he  officiated 
as  Pastor  of  a  new  Unitarian  Society  in  Salem,  and  afterwards  removed  to  Deerfield,  Mas.*., 
where  he  devoted  himself  to  agricultural  pursuits.  He  was  appointed  Agricultural  Commis- 
gioner  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  and,  after  passing  considerable  time  in  making  a  tour 
of  inspection  in  that  State,  and  in  preparing  several  Reports,  he  spent  six  years,  from  1842 
to  184.S,  in  Europe.  The  results  of  his  observations,  during  this  time,  were  published  after 
his  return,  in  his  "  Agricultural  and  Rural  Economy  of  France,  Belgium,  Holland  and  Switzer- 
land; '  "European  Agriculture  and  Rural  Economy;"  and  "  Eurofiean  Life  and  Manners, 
in  Letters  to  Friends.'  In  1849,  he  revisited  Europe,  in  the  hope  of  benefiting  his  health, 
but  died  in  London,  soon  after  his  arrival  there,  August  14,  1849.  In  addition  to  the  works 
already  mentioned,  he  published  the  following: — A  Fast  Sermon  preached  at  Quincy,  Mass., 
1812. — A  Fast  Sermon  delivered  at  Iliiighani  and  Quincy,  1812. — A  Sermon  preached  before 
the  Massachusetts  Humane  Society,  1812. — A  Discourse  delivered  at  Hanover,  Mass.  before 
the  Plymouth  and  Norfolk  Bible  Society,  ISlfi. — Catechisms  for  Children,  1817. — A  Sermon 
delivered  at  Hingham,  at  the  Ordination  of  Daniel  Kimball  as  an  Evangelist,  1817. — The 
Massachusetts  Artillery  Election  Sermon,  1818. — Sermons,  one  vol.  8vo.  1820. — A  Discourse 
on  Pastoral  Duty,  addressed  *to  the  Ministers  of  the  Bay  Association,  1822. — A  Discourse  on 
the  Character  proper  to  a  Christian  Society,  delivered  at  the  Opening  of  the  Second  Congre- 
gational Church  in  Lynn,  1823. — Pmper  Test  of  the  Christian  Church:  a  Sermon  preached 
at  Boston,  1824. — A  Discourse  on  the  Proper  Character  of  Religious  Institutions,  delivered  at 
the  Opening  of  the  Independent  Congregational  Church  in  Boston  Square,  Salem,  1824. — ■ 
Reply  to  a  Review  of  the  foregoing,  1825. —  Agricultural  Address  delivered  at  Greenfield, 
Mass.,  1833. 


214  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

tends  somewhat  beyond  the  precincts  of  their  own  village,  who  have  been 
<  taken  notice  of,'  and  perhaps  been  invited  to  exchange  an  obscure  situation 
for  one  more  suitable  to  their  merit,  would  step  forward  in  all  the  self-suffi- 
ciency of  vanity,  without  considering  whether  they  can  figure  on  a  new  theatre 
with  the  same  eclat  as  on  the  old.  They  do  not  consider  that  there  are  few 
of  that  amphibious  race,  who  can  change  their  manners  and  habics  with  their 
place,  and  appear  at  home  in  any  scene  of  action.  Such  was  not  Dr.  Allyu. 
He  took  care  to  avoid  the  company,  where  cut  of  coat  and  cut  of  manners 
were  taken  into  the  estimate  of  merit  and  character.  He  was  not  willing  that 
real  excellences  and  acknowledged  ones,  when  seen  at  a  distance,  should  be 
eclipsed  by  imaginary  blemishes.' 

<<  Dr.  Allyn's  peculiar  traits  of  character  were  more  fully  expres.sed  in  his 
letters  and  conversation  than  in  his  sermons.  A  few  sentences  from  a  letter, 
written  during  the  sitting  of  the  Convention,  in  1820,  in  Boston,  may  serve  to 
illustrate  his  manner.  '  Have  just  come  in  from  a  Committee  meeting  on  the 
Third  article — we  are  generally  agreed  as  to  the  basis  of  principle,  but  cannot 
agree  as  to  the  wording  of  our  combined  wisdom  on  the  subject.  We  are  ever 
and  anon  alarmed  with  fears  of  some  ambiguity  that  may  give  rise  to  law- 
suits, or  cause  us  to  be  defeated  of  our  determined  purpose  in  the  result, 
which  is  to  make  everybody  pay  something  for  their  instruction  in  Religion 
and  morals,  as  well  as  in  writing  and  arithmetic.  We  all  say  Amen  to  the 
Third  article,  down  to  the  end  of  the  first  paragraph,  ending  with  the  word 
'voluntary.'  We  then  agree  to  expunge,  not  alter,  the  second  paragraph, 
ending  with  the  word  '  attend.'  We  agree  that  every  man  may  worship  where 
he  chooses,  and  pay  wiiere  he  worships.  We  get  along  in  the  third  paragraph 
to  the  word,  '  maintenance.'  But  here  commences  the  difficulty.  No  less  than 
five  or  six  entirely  different  paragraphs  have  been  offered  to  suppl}^  the  place 
of  the  next  ten  lines.  The  last  thing  we  did  to-night  was  to  commit  the  diffi- 
culty to  a  sub-committee,  one  of  whom  is  a  determined  infidel;  another,  a 
Ilopkintonian,  who  has  declared  his  wish  to  expunge  the  whole  article;  a 
third,  who  has  said  three  times  that  religion  and  morality  have  no  imagina- 
ble connection;  a  fourth,  a  lawyer  from  Concord,  who  is  averse  to  changing  a 
word  from  what  it  now  is;  and  a  fifth,  whose  moderation  and  firmness  will 
keep  the  rest  from  tearing  all  to  pieces.  We  shall  expect  their  doings  to-mor- 
row.' 

«'  Omission  of  Dr.  Allyn's  benevolence  would  be  leaving  out  the  principal 
element  of  his  character.  He  did  not  withdraw  himself  behind  the  screen  of 
justice  and  poverty,  when  humanity  cried  for  relief,  nor  wait  till  his  own 
coffers  were  filled  before  he  helped  to  fill  the  hand  of  want.  He  bestowed 
with  a  liberal  hand,  trusting  that  the  '  Lord  still  loves  the  cheerful  giver.' 
He  was  liberal  to  his  famil}'-,  to  his  friends,  and  to  his  foes.  Prudence  might 
have  called  him  too  lavish,  but,  be  it  remembered  that  debts  alwaj'^s  came  first. 
«  Owe  no  man  any  thing  '  was  as  much  his  motto  as  <  Cast  thy  bread  upon 
the  waters.'  With  his  generous  mind,  it  was  hard  to  be  straitened,  as  he 
was,  by  those  whose  duty  it  was  to  pay  him  for  services  and  a  life's  devotion 
to  their  good,  but  like  almost,  if  not  quite,  all  country  parishes,  they  thought 
that  as  little  as  the  minister  could  possibly  live  upon  was  enough.  Conse- 
quently Dr.  A.  had  to  resort  to  school-keeping,  and  to  farming  on  a  small 
scale,  to  eke  out  a  scanty  maintenance.  As  he  had  to  build  a  house,  support 
his  family,  and  educate  his  children,  it  was  only  with  the  combined  efforts  of 
himself  and  family,  and  the  occasional  aid  of  a  friend,  (not  of  his  own  parish 
or  town,)  that  he  could  bring  the  year  about.  He  was  a  despiser  of  shams, 
and  could  say  with  Cowper,  '  in  my  soul  I  loathe  all  affectation.'  " 
I  remain,  dear  Sir,  very  truly  yours, 

CONVERS  FRANCIS. 


THADDEUS    MASON    HARRIS.  215 


THADDEUS  MASON  HARRIS,  D.  D. 

1789—1842. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  March  1,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  Doctor  Harris  was  tlie  friend  of  both  my  earlier  and 
later  years.  He  passed  the  whole  period  of  his  ministry  in  the  congrega- 
tion in  the  bosom  of  which  I  was  born,  and  baptized,  and  spent  the  days 
of  my  youth.  I  respected,  reverenced,  loved  him  ;  and  you  may  well  sup- 
pose that  it  costs  me  no  self-denial  to  perform  the  service  you  have  request- 
ed of  nie,  in  giving  you  a  brief  sketch  of  his  life  and  character. 

Thaddeus  Mason  Harris  was  a  descendant,  of  the  sixth  generation, 
from  William  Harris,  who  came  to  this  country  at  an  early  period,  was  a 
barrister,  accompanied  Roger  Williams  to  Providence,  was  taken  captive 
by  the  Algerines  on  his  return  to  England,  was  redeemed  for  two  hundred 
dollars,  and  died  in  London  in  1680.  His  grandfather,  Gary  Harris, 
died  in  1750,  under  somewhat  peculiar  circumstances.  He  had  invited 
company  to  commemorate  his  nuptials.  On  asking  a  blessing  at  the  table, 
one  of  his  friends  removed  his  chair,  and  he  fell  backwards,  which  occa- 
sioned his  immediate  death.  His  father,  William  Harris,  born  in  1744, 
was  first  assistant  teacher  of  a  school  in  Boston,  and  afterwards  Precep- 
tor of  a  school  in  Charlestown.  Here  he  built  a  small  house,  and  married 
Rebeckaii  Mason,  daughter  of  Thaddeus  IMason,  of  Cambridge,  for  many 
years  Clerk  of  the  Courts  for  Middlesex  County.  .  Here  the  subject  of  this 
sketch  was  born,  on  the  7  th  of  July,  1768. 

After  the  first  hostile  demonstrations  on  the  part  of  the  mother  country, 
at  Lexington,  fears  were  entertained  for  the  safety  of  Charlestown;  so 
that,  just  before  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  Mr.  Harris  fled,  with  his 
family,  in  the  hope  that  they  might  somewhere  find  a  refuge  from  the  threat- 
ening danger. 

Accordingly,  with  a  few  necessary  articles  of  clotliing,  such  as  they 
could  carry  in  their  hands,  they  set  out  on  foot, — Thaddeus,  then  not  quite 
seven  years  old,  leading  his  twin  sisters  next  in  age  to  himself,  the  father 
and  mother  each  carrying  a  child,  and  an  aged  grandmother  also  making 
one  of  the  company.  They  spent  the  first  night  at  Lexington  with  a 
remote  relative  ;  and,  while  there,  an  empty  wagon  was  about  leaving,  in 
which  they  bespoke  a  passage  to  any  place  to  which  the  owner  was  bound. 
Accordingly,  they  were  carried  to  Chookset,  part  of  Sterling,  where  Mr. 
Harris  took  a  small  house,  and  supported  his  family  by  keeping  a  district, 
school.  ^Meanwhile,  he  went  to  Charlestown,  and  brought  away  a  few  arti- 
cles of  value  which  he  had  left  behind.  But  soon  the  Battle  of  Bunker 
Hill  took  place,  Charlestown  was  laid  in  ashes,  and  the  house  of  Mr» 
Harris,  with  whatever  of  its  contents  remained,  was  demolished.  Shortly 
after  this,  he  joined  the  Army  as  Captain  and  Paymaster  ;  and,  on  a  visit 
to  his  family,  died  of  a  fever,  October  30,  1778,  aged  thirty-four  years. 

Thaddeus  then  went  to  live  with  a  farmer  by  the  name  of  Haughton.. 


21 G  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Here  he  went  to  school  with  the  farmer's  children  ;  and,  as  tlicy  lived  at 
some  distance  from  school,  he  used  to  be  furnished  with  dinner  to  slny  at 
noon,  which  he  invariably  carried  to  his  mother,  depending  on  liis  sciiool- 
mates  to  supply  his  own  wants.  As  soon  as  the  family  with  which  lie  lived 
discovered  this,  they  generously  made  such  provision  for  the  Harrises  as 
kept  them  from  want.  After  having  resided  a  short  time  at  Westminster, 
and  afterwards  at  Templeton,  he  went  back,  in  the  latter  part  of  tlie  year 
1779,  to  Chookset,  and  was  soon  introduced  into  the  family  of  Dr.  Ebene- 
zer  Morse,*  of  Boylston,  who  had  been  obliged  to  leave  the  ministry  on 
suspicion  of  Toryism,  and  was  supporting  his  family  by  the  practice  of 
Medicine,  and  by  fitting  young  men  for  College.  This  good  man  kindly 
took  this  unprotected  orphan  into  his  study,  and  assisted  liim  to  go  througli 
the  preparatory  course  for  College,  with  his  own  son.  While  here,  young 
Harris  did  something  for  his  own  support,  by  different  kinds  of  manual  labour. 

In  July,  1782,  he  went  to  visit  his  mother,  who,  in  the  mean  time,  had 
married  Samuel  Wait,  of  Maiden,  and  informed  her  that  he  was  fitted  for 
College  by  Dr.  Morse,  who  had  advised  him  to  enter  at  Cambridge,  trusting 
to  the  provision  there  made  for  the  education  of  the  indigent.  She,  how- 
ever, strongly  disapproved  of  such  a  course,  and  at  once  put  him  to  learn 
a  mechanical  trade  ;  but,  in  consequence  of  an  accident  that  happened  to 
him,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the  place,  and  went  to  write  in  his  grand- 
father Mason's  office,  with  the  intention  of  becoming  a  merchant.  With  a 
view  to  qualify  himself  for  this  occupation,  he  contracted  with  his  grand- 
father to  pay  for  his  board  by  writing,  and  went  to  Cambridge  School,  then 
kept  by  Mr.  Samuel  Kendal,  afterwards  the  Rev.  Dr.  Kendal,  of  Weston. 

Finding  him  an  apt  scholar,  his  teacher  strongly  urged  his  taking  a  col- 
legiate course.  By  his  recommendation,  the  late  Doctors  Stilhnan  and 
Thacher,  of  Boston,  issued  subscription  papers,  which  procured  him  the 
means  of  defraying  his  college  expenses.    He  entered  College  in  July,  1783. 

In  March,  1786,  his  Junior  year,  his  mother  came  to  his  room  in  Col- 
lege to  examine  his  wardrobe.  Finding  it  very  destitute,  she  proposed  to 
take  the  money  which  he  had  earned,  by  writing  for  his  grandfather,  and 
purchase  some  necessary  articles  of  clothing.  Arrangements  were,  accord- 
ingly, made,  that  he  should  obtain  his  dues  from  his  grandfather,  meet  his 
mother  on  a  certain  day  at  Charlestown,  and  accompany  her  to  Boston. 

But  he  neglected  to  call  on  his  grandfather  for  the  money  till  the  morn- 
ing of  the  appointed  day,  when  he  found  he  was  out  of  town.  He  tried  in 
vain  to  borrow  what  he  needed,  and  started  for  Charlestown  with  a  heavy 
heart,  indulging  many  rash  and  even  impious  reflections  on  his  hard  lot. 
On  his  way,  he  cut  a  stick  for  a  cane,  and,  as  he  was  passing  Charlestown 
Neck,  with  gloomy  thoughts  and  weary  steps,  he  perceived  something  at 
the  end  of  his  stick,  which  he  in  vain  attempted  to  shake  off.  On  examin- 
ing it,  he  found  that  it  was  some  kind  of  metal  —  he  knew  not  what  —  but 
thought  it  might  be  an  ornament  for  a  negro,  by  whose  hut  he  was  then 
passing.  Without  much  thought  he  put  it  into  his  pocket.  On  crossing 
the  ferry,  as  he  was  leaning  on  the  side  of  the  boat,  the  thing  in  his  pocket 
hurt  him.   He  took  it  out,  and  found  that  it  had  become  bright  by  friction. 

*  Ebenezer  Morse  was  a  native  of  Mcdficld;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1737; 
was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Boylston,  Oetober  26,  1743;  was  dis-. 
missed  November  10,  1775;  and  died  January  3,  1802,  aged  eighty-four. 


THADDEUS    MASON    HARRIS.  217 

On  entering  Boston,  he  carried  it  to  a  golJsniilh,  who,  cutting  it  open,  pro- 
nounced it  to  be  gold,  and  showed  him  the  motto,  which  was,  "  God  speed 
thee,  friend  ;"  and  added,  "  Here  are  two  dollars  for  you,  Sir,  which  is  the 
worth  of  the  ring."  This  affected  the  young  man  to  tears  ;  for  he  felt  that 
Providence  was  rebuking  him  for  his  despondence  and  frelfulness,  and  was 
providing  for  him  in  a  way  which  ought  to  excite  his  warmest  gratitude. 
The  goldsmitli,  finding  him  so  much  affected,  added  another  dollar.  Mr. 
Harris  (lien  hastened  to  his  mother  with  the  joyful  news  ;  and  she  at  once 
resolved  to  call  upon  the  goldsmith  and  inspect  the  ring.  On  seeing  it, 
she  also  wept ;  whereupon,  the  goldsmith  added  three  dollars  more,  making 
six  dollars  in  all.  This  was  amply  sufficient  for  the  present  supply  of  his 
necessities. 

This  remarkable  occurrence  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  his  mind  that, 
in  May  fuUowing,  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  unite,  and  accordingly  did  unite, 
with  the  Cambridge  Church, —  the  Rev.  Timothy  Ililliard,  the  Pastor, 
preaching  an  appropriate  Sermon  on  the  occasion,  from  Psalm  cxix,  9. 
"  Wherewithal  shall  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way  ?  By  taking  heed 
thereto  according  to  th}'  word." 

He  was  graduated  in  July,  1787,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  with  John 
Quincy  Adams,  Judge  Putnam,  Judge  Cranch,  James  Lloyd,  &c.,  among 
whom  he  sustained  a  highly  respectable  rank.  He  delivered  a  poem  at 
Commencement,  which  attracted  no  small  attention,  insomuch  that  Dr. 
Belknap  and  Dr.  Thacher  unitedly  solicited  a  copy  for  publication  in  the 
Columbian  Magazine  at  Philadelphia,  and  urged  their  request  on  the 
ground  that  they  were  "  fully  persuaded  that  it  would  tend  to  increase  the 
reputation  of  tl-.e  College  at  the  Southward."  This  request,  however,  he 
promptly  declined. 

On  leaving  College,  he  tauglit  a  school  for  a  year  at  Worcester  ;  and,  at 
the  eiul  of  that  time,  was  applied  to,  to  become  General  Washington's  Pri- 
vate Secretary.  He  had  consented  to  serve  ;  but,  in  consequence  of  taking 
the  small  pox,  he  was  prevented  from  entering  at  once  on  the  duties  of  the 
place,  and  it  was  filled  by  Tobias  Lear, 

After  studying  Theology  awhile  with  the  Rev.  Samuel  Kendal,  of  Wes- 
ton, he  went,  by  advice  of  President  Willard,  to  Cambridge,  to  continue 
his  studies  there.  He  was  soon  appointed  Sublibrarian,  and,  in  1791, 
Librarian,  of  the  University. 

He  received  approbation  to  preacl;,  from  the  Cambridge  Association,  in 
June,  1789, —  a  little  before  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age  ;  and  he 
preached,  for  the  first  time,  on  the  2Gth  of  July  following,  in  the  pulpit  of 
my  predecessor,  the  Rev.  Joseph  Jackson.  After  preaching  in  several 
of  the  neighbouring  parishes,  he  accepted  a  call  from  the  Church  in  Dor- 
chester, where  ho  was  ordained  as  sole  Pastor,  October  23,  1793, —  the 
Rev.  Moses  Everett  having  resigned  his  charge  in  the  early  part  of  the 
same  year. 

Mr.  Harris  was  married  on  the  28th  of  January,  1795,  to  Mary,  only 
daughter  of  Dr.  Elijah  and  Dorothy  (Lynde)  Dix,  of  Worcester,  Mass. 
They  had  eight  children, —  five  sons  and  three  daughters.  Their  eldest 
Bon,  {Thaddeus  William,)  the  only  one  who  received  a  collegiate  educa- 
tion, was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in   1815,  studied  Medicine  and 


218  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

practised  the  same  till  the  summer  of  1831,  when  lie  was  elected  Librarian 
of  Harvard  College,  which  office  he  still  retains.* 

IJciiig  appointed  one  of  the  administrators  of  the  estate  of  his  wife's 
father,  he  was  obliged  to  make  a  voyage  to  England,  on  business  relating 
to  the  settlement  of  this  estate.  He  improved  the  opportunity  to  visit 
various  parts  of  England,  Wales,  Scotland  and  Ireland  ;  leaving  New  York 
for  the  voyage,  August  7,  1810,  and  returning  there  again.  May  13,  1811, 
after  an  absence  of  about  nine  months.  During  this  time,  he  made  many 
friends  in  the  places  he  visited,  and  left  (as  is  said  by  one  of  tlie  Boston 
clergy  who  socrn  afterwards  followed  him)  very  favourable  impressions  upon 
some  of  the  leading  minds  of  tho  Independent  denomination  there. 

Until  1804  Mr.  Harris'  pastoral  charge  included  the  entire  town,  which 
then  comprehended  the  wliole  of  what  is  now  called  South  IJostun.  He 
was  truly  "  in  labours  more  abundant," —  writing  more  sermons  than  almost 
any  of  his  brethren  ;  more  prolific  in  publications  of  various  kinds  than 
almost  any  contemporary  divine  ;  making  frequent  visits  to  the  University, 
of  which,  during  his  whole  pastorate,  he  was  an  Overseer, —  arranging  its 
library,  and  presenting,  nearly  every  year,  an  elaborate  report.  He  spent 
much  time  also  in  superintending  the  common  scliools,  and  performed  the 
laborious  task  of  arranging  Washington's  papers,  in  one  hundred  and 
thirty-two  volumes,  and  aiding  Mr.  Sparks,  by  copious  indexes  and  notes, 
in  preparing  them  for  publication. 

The  secret  of  his  accomplishing  so  much  was  his  untiring  industry,  and 
a  perfectly  methodical  arrangement  of  his  time.  He  was  an  early  riser, 
and  had  a  time  for  every  thing,  and  took  care  that  every  thing  was  done  in 
its  time.  He  was  so  remarkable  for  punctuality  to  his  engagements  that  no 
instance  can  be  recollected  in  which  he  was  at  any  place  of  meeting,  where 
his  duty  required  him  to  be,  one  moment  after  the  appointed  hour. 

An  alarming  attack  of  illness,  in  the  winter  of  1832-33,  reduced  him  to 
a  state  of  great  debility,  and  it  became  necessary  for  him  to  seek  the 
influence  of  a  Southern  climate  during  the  following  winter.  He  embarked 
at  Boston  for  South  Carolina,  December,  1833,  arrived  at  Charleylon, 
passed  some  time  there  and  at  Savannah  and  Augusta,  where  he  occasion- 
ally preached,  and  returned  from  Charleston,  and  reached   home,  May  31, 

1834.  During  his  visit  to  Savannah,  he  became  interested  in  the  life  and 
labours  of  General  Oglethorpe,  and  collected  some  materials  for  a  bio- 
grapliical  and  historical  account,  which  he  finished,  and  published  at  Bos- 
ton, in  one  volume,  octavo,  in  May,  1811. 

Mr.  Nathaniel   Hall  was    ordained   his   colleague   on   the   16th   of  July, 

1835,  when  Dr.  Harris  was  sixty-seven  years  of  age.  But  this  measure 
was  altogether  of  his  own  choice,  not  a  single  member  of  his  parish  having 
so  much  as  intimated  even  the  expediency  of  it.  So  also,  when  he  .sought 
the  dissolution  of  his  pastoral  relation,  it  was  not  only  without  the  desire, 
but  in  spite  of  the  renionstrances,  of  all  who  took  an  active  part  in  the 
concerns  of  the  parish.  A  dismission  was  granted  him,  at  his  own  earnest 
request,  in  October,  1836,  when  he  had  been  settled  just  forty-three  years. 
The  separation  was  attended  with  mutual  expressions  of  good  will, —  of  the 
Pastors  toward  each  other  and  toward  their  people. 

•  He  died  in  1856.  ^ 


THADDEUS   MASON    HARRIS.  219 

While  he  was  Librarian  at  Harvard  University,  he  published,  in  a  small 
duodecimo  volume,  the  Natural  History  of  the  Bible.  In  1820,  he  issued 
a  new  edition  of  this  work,  greatly  enlarged  and  improved,  which  is 
thought  to  be  very  complete  of  its  kind.  So  at  least  thought  a  foreiga 
publisher,  who  purloined  the  whole  work,  issuing  it  from  the  press  under 
his  own  name,  and  realizing  from  its  sale  substantial  profits. 

During  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  he  travelled,  for  the  benefit  of 
his  health,  into  the  State  of  Ohio,  then  a  new  country.  On  his  return, 
he  published  an  account  of  his  tour,  which  was  every  way  creditable  to 
him.  Tliis  work  has  been  out  of  print  for  many  years.  The  celebrated 
Jolm  Foster,  of  England,  author  of  "  Essays,"  &c.,  employed  a  friend, 
some  years  ago,  to  procure  it  for  him,  and,  as  it  could  not  be  found  else- 
where, I  reluctantly  parted  with  my  copy  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  that 
distinguished  man. 

His  last  disease  was  peripneumony,  which  attacked  him  on  the  last 
Lord's  day  of  his  life, —  seven  days  after  his  last  appearance  in  the  pulpit. 
It  immediately  prostrated  his  strength,  and  very  soon  deprived  him  of  the 
use  of  his  reason.  This  ma}'  truly  be  considered  as  a  merciful  interposi- 
tion of  Providence  in  his  behalf;  for  such  was  his  nervous  excitability, 
that,  notwithstanding  his  oft  repeated  desire  to  be  released  from  this  body 
of  sin  and  death,  he  would  have  instinctively  shrunk  from  the  pains  which 
imagination  associates  with  the  last  struggles  of  dissolving  nature. 

His  Funeral  was  attended  in  the  meeting  house, —  where  he  had  so  long 
officiated, —  on  the  afternoon  of  the  7th  of  April,  1842,  the  day  of  the 
Annual  Fast ;  a  prayer  having  been  previously  offered  at  his  late  residence 
in  l>oston,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Frotliingham,  whose  cliurch  he  had  attended. 
Though  the  weather  was  unfavourable,  the  house  was  crowded, —  several 
clergymen  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  among  them  Dr.  Codinan,  of  the 
Second  Church,  having  omitted  their  usual  afternoon  services  that  they 
might  be  present.  It  fell  to  nie  to  offer  the  Funeral  Prayer.  His  late 
colleague,  and  now  his  successor,  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Hall,  delivered  an 
Address,  containing  an  outline  of  his  life  and  character.  In  giving  out 
the  hymn,  I  remarked  to  the  choir  that,  a  few  years  before,  their  departed 
Pastor,  in  the  ordinary  service  of  the  Sabbath,  set  them  a  hymn  which  he 
desired  them  to  sing  to  the  tune  of  Jordan,  and  expressed  the  hope  that 
they  would  sing  the  same  hymn  to  the  same  tune,  at  his  Funeral.  Accord- 
ingly, I  gave  out  the  hymn, — "  There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight,"  &c.  I 
could  not  perceive  but  that  his  former  charge  manifested  as  deep  emotion 
as  if  he  had  been  removed  from  them  during  his  ministry,  and  in  the 
midst  of  his  days  and  usefulness. 

Dr.  Harris  was  an  early  member  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society, 
and,  after  the  close  of  his  ministry,  became,  its  Librarian.  He  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Humane  Society ;  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences ;  of  the  Massachusetts  Bible  Society  ;  of  the  Society  for  Propa- 
gating the  Gospel  ;  of  the  American  Antiquarian  Society  ;  of  the  Ameri- 
can Peace  Society ;  Vice-President  of  the  Congregational  Charitable 
Society  ;  Overseer  of  Harvard  University  during  his  ministry  ;  member 
of  the  Horticultural  Society  ;  Corresponding  member  of  the  Georgia  His- 
torical Society,  and  of  the  Archaeological  Society  in  Athens,  Greece. 


220  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Besides  the  works  already  referred  to,  Dr.  Harris  published  the  following 
Occasional  Discourses. 

A  New  Year's  Sermon,  1796.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  John 
Pierce,  1797.  A  Sermon  on  occasion  of  the  National  Fast,  1798.  A 
Century  Sermon  addressed  particularly  to  a  lleligious  Society  of  Young 
Men,  1798.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Washington,  1799.  A  Sermon  on 
the  Death  of  the  Author's  Mother,  1801.  A  Sermon  preached  at  Dedham, 
on  the  day  after  the  Execution  of  Jason  Fairbanks,  1801.  Twelve  Masonic 
Discourses,  with  several  Charges,  &c.,  1801.  8vo.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Installation  of  the  llev.  Abiel  Abbot,  Beverly,  1803.  A  Sermon  on  the 
Death  of  Deacon  Abijah  White,  1804.  The  Artillery  Election  Ser- 
mon, 1805.  A  Sermon  before  the  Massachusetts  Humane  Society,  1806. 
A  Sermon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  South  Meeting  House,  Dorchester, 
1806.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  C.  H.  Shearman,  1807.  A  Sermon 
before  the  Union  Lodge,  Dorchester,  1807.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination 
of  Enoch  Pratt,  1807.  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1807.  Three  Sermons 
addressed  to  the  Second  Church  in  Dorchester,  1807.  A  Sermon  preached 
at  Plymouth  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Landijig  of  the  Fathers,  1808.  A 
Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Samuel  Osgood,  at  Springfield,  1809. 
Tribute  of  Respect  to  the  Memory  of  the  Hon.  James  Bowdoin,  1811.  A 
Sermon  against  Suicide,  1812.  A  Sermon  on  Sensibility,  1812.  A  Ser- 
mon on  the  Death  of  Ebenezer  Wales,  Esq.,  1813.  A  Discourse  at  the 
Funeral  of  Moses  Everett,  Esq.,  1813.  A  Sermon  before  the  Boston 
Female  Asylum,  1813.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Ephraim  Randall, 
1814.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Lemuel  Capen,  1815.  Pray  for 
the  Jews:  Thursday  Lecture  at  Boston,  1816.  Two  Sermons,  one  on 
Leaving  the  Old  Church,  the  other  on  Entering  the  New  one,  at  Dorcliester, 
1816.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Nathaniel  Topliff,  1819.  A  Sermon 
before  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel,  1823.  A  Centennial  Dis- 
course, 1830.     A  Farewell  Sermon,  1836. 

Other  Miscellaneous  Publications. 
Triumphs  of  Superstition:  An  Elegy,  1790.  A  System  of  Punctuation, 
1797.  An  Address  on  occasion  of  the  Drowning  of  three  persons,  1803. 
History  of  Dorchester,  1804.  An  Address  before  the  Washington  l^enevo- 
lent  Society,  1813.  Happy  Death  of  a  Child,  1815.  A  Textuary  for 
Preachers,  1818.  Serious  Soliloquies,  1819.  Biography  of  Father  Rasles, 
(Mass.  Hist.  Coll.)  An  Address  at  the  Installation  of  the  Union  Lodge, 
Dorchester,  1824.     An  Account  of  the  Old  Book  of  Records,  1834. 

Compilations  and  Abridgments. 
Constitution  of  the  Masons,  1792,  1798.  Massachusetts  Magazine, 
edited  by  him,  1795,  1796.  Beauties  of  Nature  by  Sturm,  1800,  1801. 
Hymns  for  the  Lord's  Supper,  1801-1820.  Zollikoffer's  Exercises  of 
Piety,  1803,  1807.  Minor  Encyclopedia,  4  vols.,  1803.  Sephora,  a  He- 
brew Tale,  1835. 

I  might  add  many  interesting  incidents  in  the  life  of  my  friend  ;  but  I 
suppose  the  above  is  all  that  your  request  contemplated. 

Very  sincerely  your  friend,  JOHN  PIERCE. 


THADDEUS   MASON    HARRIS.  221 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D. 

Springfield,  Mass.,  September  19,  1859. 

My  dear  Sir:  Your  request  for  my  recollections  of  Dr.  Harris  carries  me 
back  upwards  of  fifty-thiee  years.  Shortly  after  my  graduation  at  Dart- 
mouth College,  in  1805,  and  while  I  was  reading  Law  in  an  office  at  Fryburg, 
my  native  place,  I  received  an  invitation  to  take  charge  of  a  school  consisting 
of  the  children  of  a  few  families  in  Dorchester;  and  this  not  only  brouglit  me 
witbin  the  limits  of  Dr.  Hariis'  parish,  but  led  me  to  become  a  boarder  in 
his  house.  I  continued  an  inmate  of  his  fsimily  for  about  two  years,  during 
which  time  I  was  in  habits  of  daily  and  very  free  intercourse  with  him.  After 
I  had  been  with  him  some  months,  my  mind  took  a  more  serious  turn,  and  I 
resolved  to  devote  myself  to  the  Christian  ministry;  and,  for  somewhat  more 
than  a  year,  I  prosecuted  my  theological  studies  under  his  direction.  The 
change  which  subsequently  took  place  in  my  own -theological  views  might 
perhaps  have  slightly  modified  my  relations  to  Dr.  Harris,  and  yet,  when  I 
was  settled  in  this  place,  he  preached  my  Ordination  Sermon,  and  I  always 
cherished  a  sincere  and  cordial  regard  for  him  till  the  close  of  his  life. 

Dr.  Harris  was,  I  think,  fully  of  the  medium  height  and  size,  and,  in  his 
later  years  particularly,  stooped  considerably  as  he  walked.  His  features 
were  regular,  and  the  expression  of  his  countenance  uncommonly  benign  and 
amiable.  His  perceptions  were  clear,  his  intellectual  processes  direct  and 
natural,  and  his  knowledge  in  some  departments  ver}'  accurate  and  extensive. 
He  was  a  great  lover  of  Natural  History,  and  was  better  acquainted  with  the 
lives  and  characters  of  the  distinguished  men  of  not  only  his  own  but  of  pre- 
ceding generations  than  almost  any  other  man  of  his  day.  His  very  exten- 
sive knowledge  of  this  kind  rendered  him  not  only  a  very  agreeable  but  very 
useful  companion.  He  had  naturally  a  most  kindly  spirit,  and  delighted  in 
dispensing  favours  whenever  he  had  an  opportunity.  Though  not  praticu- 
larly  animated  in  conversation,  his  friendly  and  genial  manner  always  con- 
ciliated good-will,  and  made  him  a  favourite  among  his  acquaintance. 

Dr.  Harris  held  a  highly  respectable  rank  as  a  Preacher,  in  the  circle  in 
which  he  moved.  Without  any  pretensions  to  what  would  commonly  be 
called  pulpit  eloquence,  his  discourses  were  always  written  in  a  neat  and  per- 
spicuous style,  and  I  believe  never  contained  any  thing  from  which  any  evan- 
gelical Christian  would  find  reason  to  dissent.  1  never  could  ascertain  exactly 
what  his  vijws  of  the  Trinity  were,  though  I  know  he  did  not  admit  the  com- 
monly accepted  doctrine,  on  the  ground,  as  I  ahvays  understood,  that  it 
seemed  to  him  not  only  inexplicable  but  contradictory;  but  I  very  well  remem- 
ber his  saying  to  me,  in  so  many  words,  <'  1  believe  in  the  necessity  of  a  spe- 
cial Divine  intluence  to  renew  and  sanctify  the  soul,  and  rather  than  renounce 
the  doctrine  of  atonement  I  would  yield  my  life."  He  had  some  admirable 
qualities  as  a  Pastor,  especially  the  warmest  sensibility,  and  the  tcnderest 
sympathy  with  all  who  were  in  distress.  He  not  unfrequently  shed  a  profu- 
sion of  tears  in  the  pulpit,  and  I  believe  rarely  went  through  the  services  of 
the  Sabbath  without  being  more  or  less  melted  under  the  sentiments  which 
he  uttered.  Indeed,  this  was  of  such  frequent  occurrence  that  it  might  per- 
haps be  considered  as  marking  a  constitutional  infirmity. 

Dr.  Harris'  prominent  qualities  were  not  of  the  bold  and  heroic  sort,  nor 
would  he  have  been  selected  to  take  the  lead  in  any  enterprise  that  required 
.  extraordinary  force  of  character.  But  he  was  sensible,  well  informed,  cau- 
tious, and  persevering  in  his  plans,  and  careful  not  to  give  needless  offence; 
and  he  was  an  object  of  much  interest  throughout  the  community  in  which 
he  lived.  His  published  works  were  somewhat  extensive,  and  they  evince  a 
calm  and  even  temperament,  a  cultivated  taste,  and  much  more  than  ordinary 
scholarship.  Yours  affectionately,  SAMUEL  OSGOOD. 


222  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

I  knew  Dr.  Harris  from  an  early  period  of  my  ministry  till  the  close  of 
Lis  life.  My  interest  in  him  was  not  a  little  increased  by  the  fact  that  I 
Lad  been  familiar  with  his  character  from  my  boyhood,  having  very  often 
heard  him  spoken  of  by  his  intimate  friend  and  classmate,  and  my  venera- 
ble instructor,  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot,  of  Coventry.  And  when  I  came  to 
see  him,  I  found  that  he  answered,  in  every  respect,  physically,  intellect- 
ually, morally,  to  Mr.  Abbot's  representation.  What  impressed  me  more 
concerning  him  than  any  thing  else,  was  his  great  knowledge  of  the  per- 
sonal history  of  many  distinguished  individuals,  and  the  pleasure  which  he 
seemed  to  take  in  conferring  favours  whenever  it  was  in  his  power.  The 
only  exception  to  his  readiness  to  accommodate  which  I  remember,  was  a 
case  in  which  his  kindly  feelings  were  evidently  kept  in  check  by  his 
modesty.  In  speaking  of  the  wonderful  providences  of  God  towards  him, 
he  once  related  to  me  the  remarkable  event,  recorded  by  Dr.  Pierce,  of 
his  finding  the  piece  of  gold  between  Boston  and  Cambridge.  I  was  so 
much  impressed  by  it  that  I  was  very  desirous  of  having  a  written  state- 
ment of  the  facts  from  his  own  hand  ;  but  he  declined  a  compliance  with 
my  request,  on  the  ground,  as  I  supposed,  of  being  unwilling  to  write  out 
a  story  of  which  he  was  so  manifestly  the  hero.  In  one  instance,  I  had 
stated  a  fact  in  an  Historical  Discourse,  which  was  published,  without 
being  able  to  state  other  facts  which  gave  to  that  its  chief  interest  —  as 
soon  as  he  discovered  the  omission,  he  volunteered  to  furnish  me  the  infor- 
mation in  which  I  was  deficient.  Indeed,  I  have  rarely  witnessed  a  more 
benevolent  spirit  than  he  manifested  in  all  my  intercourse  with  him. 


PETER  EATON,  D.  D.^ 

1789—1848. 

Peter  Eaton,  a  son  of  Joseph  and  Sarah  (Webster)  Eaton,  was  born 
at  Haverhill,  Mass.,  March  25,  1765.  His  ancestors,  for  several  genera- 
tions, had  cultivated  the  same  farm  on  which  he  was  born  ;  and  his  great- 
grandfather was  killed  by  the  Indians,  near  his  own  dwelling,  during  the 
celebrated  Indian  "  raid"  in  that  neighbourhood,  in  the  year  1697.  He 
commenced  his  preparation  for  college  under  the  Rev.  Phineas  Adams,! 
but  finished  it  at  Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  of  which  he  was  among  the 
earliest  pupils  ;  and  he  is  said  to  have  enjoyed,  in  a  high  degree,  the  con- 
fidence and  good-will  of  its  first  Principal,  Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Eliphalet 
Pearson,  In  1783,  he  entered  Harvard  College,  where  he  held  a  high 
rank  as  a  scholar  during  his  whole  course,  and  was  graduated  in  1787. 
Several  of  his  classmates  became  very  eminent  men,  chief  among  whom 
was  John  Quincy  Adams.  The  year  before  he  graduated.  Dr.  Pearson 
accepted  a  Professorship-at  Cambridge,  and  it  was  a  source  of  high  grati- 

•  Various  Obituaries. — Ms.  from  Miss  R.  E.  Reynolds. 

f  PniNEAs  Adams  was  a  native  of  Rowley,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1762;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  church  in  West  Haverhill  in  1770;  and  died  November  17, 
1801,  aged  sixty  years. 


PETER    EATON.  223 

fication  to  young  Eaton  that  his  relation  to  him  as  a  pupil  was  thereby 
renewed. 

On  leaving  College,  he  taught  a  school  for  one  year  in  Woburn,  and  then 
passed  some  time  in  the  study  of  Theology  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Adams,  under  whom  he  had  commenced  liis  classical  studies.  Having 
received  license  to  preach,  he  preached  his  first  sermon  in  Boxford  on  tlie 
10th  of  January,  1789,  from  the  text, — "  Wlierefore  He  is  able  also  to  save 
tliem  to  the  uttermost  that  come  unto  God  by  Him;  seeing  He  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  them."     (Heb.  vii,  25.) 

On  the  20th  of  April  following,  the  Church  in  Boxford  unanimously 
agreed  to  extend  a  call  to  him  to  become  their  Pastor;  and,  on  the  12th 
of  May,  the  Parish  voted  their  unanimous  concurrence  in  the  call.  In  due 
time  lie  signified  his  acceptance  of  their  invitation,  and,  on  the  7th  of  Octo- 
ber following,  was  ordained  to  tlie  work  of  the  ministry,  and  installed  as 
the  Pastor  of  that  church.  The  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by 
the  Bev.  Phineas  Adams,  from  Philippians  ii,  29. 

Mr.  Eaton,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  time,  was  settled  upon  a 
small  salary,  (eighty  pounds,)  with  the  additional  consideration  of  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  pounds  which  he  received  as  a  "settlement."  Finding 
his  salary  inadequate  to  meet  the  necessities  of  his  family,  he  made  a 
formal  request,  in  1805,  that  he  might  be  employed  as  a  teacher  in  one  of 
the  district  schools  within  the  limits  of  his  parish — whereupon  his  people, 
•waking  up  to  the  urgency  of  the  case,  voted  an  addition  to  his  salary  of 
one  liundred  dollars  ;  and  this  they  continued  to  do  nearly  everj'  year  until 
his  relation  to  them  as  Pastor  was  dissolved.  He  seems  to  have  been 
little  disposed  to  urge  any  pecuniary  claims  upon  his  flock  ;  and,  when  the 
addition  to  his  salary  was  raised  by  a  tax,  he  took  special  care  that  an 
exemption  should  be  secured  to  the  poor  who  were  unable  to  bear  the 
burden. 

In  1819  Mr.  Eaton  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Legi.-^lature 
of  Massachusetts  ;  and  in  1820  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College. 

Dr.  Eaton  continued  in  the  diligent  discharge  of  his  duties  as  Pastor 
until  the  year  1845,  when,  owing  to  some  peculiar  circumstances,  he  vir- 
tually resigned  his  pastoral  charge,  though  he  retained  a  nominal  connec- 
tion with  his  people  till  the  close  of  life.  Tliis  measure  was  not  the  result 
of  any  diminution  of  attachment  on  either  side  ;  for,  while  he  cherished  a 
warm  affection  for  them  till  the  close  of  life,  they  followed  him  with  their 
demonstrations  of  tender  regard,  and  still  hold  him  in  cherished  remem- 
brance. The  last  two  sermons  that  he  ever  preached,  were  preached  to 
his  own  people,  on  the  21st  of  September,  1845,  from  Luke  xii,  59,  and  1 
Corinthians,  xiii,  1.  Shortly  after  this,  he  removed,  with  his  family,  to 
the  South  Parish  in  Andover,  where  he  remained  till  the  close  of  his  life. 
He  died  of  lung  fever,  after  an  illness  of  two  weeks,  on  the  14th  of  April, 
1848,  aged  eighty-three  years.  The  Funeral  services  were  performed,  on 
the  Sabbath  following  his  death,  in  the  Church  at  West  Boxford,  on  which 
occasion  an  Address  was  delivered  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Park,  Junior  Pastor 
of  the  Church. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Eaton's  publications  : — 


224  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Two  Sermons,  on  Religious  Opinions,  delivered  at  Haverliill,  1806.  A 
Sermon  delivered  at  Topsfield  before  the  Moral  Society  of  Boxford  and 
Topsfield,  1815.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Hum- 
phrey C.  Perley  to  the  Pastoral  care  of  the  Second  Church  and  Religious 
Society  in  Beverly,  Mass.,  1818.  A  Sermon  delivered  on  occasion  of  the 
General  Election  in  Massachusetts,  1819.  An  Address  before  the  Agri- 
cultural Society,  at  their  Exhibition  in  Top.sfield,  1822.  A  Sermon  deliv- 
ered at  Aniesbury,  Mass.,  at  the  Ordination  of  Peter  S.  Eaton,  1826. 
A  Sermon  delivered  in  the  First  Parish  Meeting  House,  Haverliill,  on 
Titus  iii,  8,  1828.  A  Sermon  delivered  in  the  West  Parish  Meeting 
House,  Boxford,  on  1  Cor.  i,  10,  1829.  A  Discourse  delivered  at  the 
Dedication  of  a  New  House  of  Worship  in  West  Boxford,  1843. 

He  was  married,  on  the  12th  of  September,  1792,  to  Sally,  daughter  of 
the  Rev.  Eliab  Stone,  of  Reading; — a  lady  of  great  worth,  and  distin- 
guished especially  for  the  domestic  virtues.  She  died  on  the  12th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1824.  He  was  subsequently  married  to  a  widow  lady,  formerly  of 
Salem,  who  survived  him,  but  has  since  died.  He  had  six  children, — four 
sons  and  two  daughters, — all  by  the  first  marriage.  Of  his  sons,  the  eldest 
and  the  youngest  received  a  liberal  education.  The  eldest,  Peter  Sidney, 
was  born  October  7,  1798  ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1818, 
and  at  the  Andover  Theological  Seminary  in  1824  ;  was  ordained  Pastor 
of  the  Church  at  Amesbury,  Second  Parish,  September  20,  1826  ;  resigned 
Lis  charge  after  a  few  years  on  account  of  feeble  health  ;  was  afterwards 
employed  for  some  time  as  a  teacher  in  New  Britain,  Cnnn.  ;  and  died  at 
Chelsea,  Mass.,  March,  1863.  The  youngest  son,  John  Hubbard,  was 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  1827,  studied  Theology  two  years  at  Andover, 
and  two  at  New  Haven ;  but  his  physical  constitution  was  too  feeble  to 
allow  him  to  take  charge  of  a  parish.  He  lived  an  invalid,  doing  what  he 
could  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  and  the  needy  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
where  he  died  in  July,  1863. 

Dr.  Eaton  was  greatly  respected  by  the  community  in  which  he  lived. 
He  was  occupied  considerably,  during  the  summer  season,  in  agricultural 
pursuits,  this  being  necessary  in  view  of  his  small  salary,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  it  served  to  invigorate  his  health  and  render  him  more  capable 
of  mental  labour.  He  was  in  the  habit  also  of  receiving  young  men  into 
his  family  to  prepare  them  for  college,  as  well  as  those  who,  having  become 
members  of  College,  had  leave  of  temporary  absence  from  it,  that  they 
might  mend  their  ways.  All  who  had  been  his  students  were  said  to  have 
held  him  in  most  grateful  remembrance. 

FROM  THE  REV.  NATHANIEL  WHITMAN. 

Deerfield,  January  27,  1864. 

Dear  Sir:  Your  favour  of  the  25th  is  before  me,  and  T  hasten  to  return  to 
it  such  an  answer  as  may  be  in  my  power;  tliough  I  fear  I  may  be  unable  to 
add  much,  if  any  thing,  to  what  you  already  know  respecting  Dr.  Eaton.  I 
am  fully  of  the  opinion  that  you  do  him  no  more  than  justice  in  placing  him 
among  the  liighly  respectable  ministers  of  our  denomination. 

My  venerated  father  and  friend,  Dr.  Cumniings,  of  Eillerica,  held  Dr.  Eaton 
in  the  very  highest  esteem,  as  a  man  of  sound  and  highly  respectable  talents, 
as  a  most  worthy  minister  of  the    Gospel  of  Christ,  and  as  maintaining  a 


PETER    EATON.  225 

character  of  marked  independence,  aniiableness,  peaceableness,  seriousness, 
and  exeniplariness.  He  used  to  love  to  expatiate  upon  his  excellences  and 
testify  his  admiration  for  his  character;  and  I  think  I  have  good  reason  for 
saying  that  Dr.  Eaton  fully  reciprocated  his  high  regard  and  esteem. 

Dr.  Eaton  did  not  belong  to  the  Andover  Association,  to  which  Dr.  Cum- 
mings  and  myself  belonged.  He  lived  at  some  distance  from  Billerica,  and, 
as  he  travelled  but  little,  he  was  very  rarely  seen  in  or  near  our  village  — 
hence  Dr.  Cummings  was  very  desirous  of  my  bringing  about  an  exchange 
with  him,  that  he  might  once  more  enjoy  here  below  the  society  of  one  he  so 
highly  esteemed  and  loved.  The  exchange,  accordingly,  took  place;  and 
great  was  mj'  gratification  that  it  had  been  elfected  —  for  it  was  evidently  an 
occasion  of  the  richest  enjo3''ment  to  Dr.  Cummings.  Both  of  them,  though 
having  their  own  opinions  on  controverted  subjects,  and  diltering  honestly  iu 
regard  to  a  few  of  them  from  some  of  their  brethren,  were  free  from  a  contro- 
versial and  sectarian  spirit,  and  lived  in  the  higher  and  purer  regions  of 
thought  and  feeling.  Dr.  Cummings  realized,  from  this  interview,  which  he 
fully  expected  would  be  their  last  on  earth,  all  the  comfort  which  he  had  antici- 
pated. I  was  once  called  to  sit  in  council,  in  a  very  unhappy  quarrel  —  I 
must  call  it  —  between  two  church  members  in  South  Boxford.  It  was  about 
a  sheep's  straying  from  one  pasture  to  another  pasture,  aiid  one  man's  setting 
an  old  post  five  inches  on  another  man's  land,  when  he  was  re-setting  a  fence 
in  a  swamp,  where  land,  by  the  rod,  was  worth  next  to  nothing.  Dr.  Eaton 
was  not  a  member  of  the  council  —  he  would  not  be  —  but  volunteering  to  act 
as  a  friend  to  both  parties,  he  went  to  South  Boxford,  previous  to  the  meeting 
of  the  council,  had  the  church  called  together,  and  earnestly  exhorted  them 
to  Christian  forbearance,  candour  and  mutual  conciliation.  A  person  who 
was  present  and  listened  to  him,  told  me  that  the  Address  was  deeply  affect- 
ing, awfully  solemn  and  clear  and  pointed  in  its  warnings.  "  It  seemed," 
said  he,  "  as  if  it  might  make  us  all  one  again;  but  it  did  not."  Dr.  Eaton^ 
seems  to  have  revealed  himself,  on  that  occasion,  as  an  angel  of  light.  He- 
spoke  in  the  spirit  and  words  of  his  Divine  Master. 

Being  on  a  visit,  at  a  certain  time,  to  Brother  Loring,  of  North  Andover,  he 
invited  me  to  take  a  ride  to  Boxford  to  see  Dr.  Eaton.  I  accepted  his  invita- 
tion. We  found  the  Doctor,  then  very  old,  but  hale  and  cheery,  out  in  his 
field,  making  hay.  After  a  little  miscellaneous  chat,  we  got  upon  the  subject 
of  his  continuing  to  preach  at  so  advanced  a  period.  He  said  that  he  was  too- 
old  to  perform  the  services  of  a  Pastor,  and  had  several  times  made  advances 
toward  the  resignation  of  his  charge;  but  that  he  was  always  told  that  he 
must  not  quit  yet, —  that  he  could  not  yet  be  spared;  '<  and  so,"  said  he,  "  I 
continue  doing  as  well  as  I  can,  and  living  along  peaceably  and  pleasantly 
with  an  alFcctionate  and  devoted  people."  Touching  the  controversies  of  the 
time,  his  people  were  somewhat  divided  among  themselves;  but  they  were 
united  in  their  respect  and  affection  for  him.  How  it  was,  at  a  later  period, 
T  know  not.  I  once  heard  hmi  preach  an  Ordination  Sermon,  which  was  full 
of  excellent  thought  and  admirably  appropriate  to  the  occasion. 

Dr.  Eaton's  manners  were  plain  and  simple,  and  showed  little  familiarity 
with  the  usages  of  polished  society;  but  there  was  a  generous  frankness  and. 
honesty  expressed  by  them,  much  more  attractive,  as  well  as  more  effective, 
than  any  mere  artificial  culture.  He  had  a  sound  judgment  and  good  logical 
powers,  and  always  moved  forward  to  his  conclusions  with  great  care  and 
though tfulness.  His  sermons  were  the  product  of  his  own  independent  reflec- 
tion rather  than  of  reading;  and  this  often  gave  them  an  air  of  marked  origi- 
nality. His  delivery  was  characterized  by  great  fervour  and  earnestness,  and 
uncommon  distinctness  of  enunciation;  so  that  he  may,  on  the  whoh,  be  said, 
to  have  been  a  popular  speaker.     In  his  theological  speculations,  I  suppose 

Vol.  YIII.  15 


226  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

him  to  have  harmonized  very  nearly  with  Dr.  Cummings  of  Billerica,  Dr 
Lathrop  of  Boston,  Dr.  Barnard  of  Salem,  Dr.  Symmes  of  Andover,  and  other 
of  the  earlier  ministers  of  the  Unitarian  School, —  in  other  words,  to  have 
been  in  some  sense,  an  Arian.  Though  he  was  decided  in  his  religious  views, 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  avow  them  on  what  he  deemed  suitable  occasions,  he 
was  always  most  considerate,  in  this  respect,  of  the  feelings  of  others.  So 
far  from  being  a  controversial  preacher,  he  purposely  avoided  preaching  much 
upon  those  doctrines  Avhich  were  in  dispute;  and  some  of  his  hearers,  who  were 
Calvinists,  steadily  maintained  to  the  last  that  his  creed  did  not  differ  mate- 
rially from  their  own. 

Dr.  Eaton  was  a  man  of  the  most  kindly  and  genial  spirit,  ever  ready  to 
exercise  a  generous  hospitality  to  both  strangers  and  friends,  and  to  adminis- 
ter relief,  according  to  his  ability,  to  the  destitute  and  suffering.  With  his/ 
parishioners  he  was  always  in  the  most  intimate  and  agreeable  relations,  and 
always  enjoyed  their  unbounded  confidence.  lie  was  more  than  once  solicited 
to  leave  his  parish  for  one  that  would  have  been  considered  more  eligible;  but 
nothing  could  induce  him  to  listen  to  any  such  proposals.  His  only  ambition 
seemed  to  be  to  discharge  his  duties  faithfully  in  the  place  in  which  Provi- 
dence had  cast  his  lot.  Wherever  he  was  known,  his  character  commanded 
general  respect.  I  am  very  truly  yours,     ^ 

NATHANIEL  WHITMAN. 


DANIEL  CLARKE  SANDERS,  D.  D  * 

1790  —  1850. 

Daniel  Clarke  Sanders,  a  son  of  Micah  and  Azubah  (Clarke) 
Sanders,  was  born  in  Sturbridge,  Mass.,  on  the  3d  of  May,  1768.  Both 
of  his  parents,  as  well  as  his  grandparents,  were  natives  of  Medfield. 
His  father  having  died  in  1773,  and  las  mother  having  married  Capt. 
Ebeuezer  Fisher,  of  Needham,  he  went  thither  to  live  in  May.  1775,  being 
then  about  seven  years  of  age.  He  was  prepared  for  College  by  the  Rev. 
Samuel  West,  then  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Needham, 
and  afterwards  of  the  Hollis  Street  Church,  Boston.  He  was  admitted  a 
member  of  the  Freshman  class  at  Harvard  in  1784,  and  graduated  in 
1788,  having  assigned  to  him  for  his  Connnencement  exercise  the  first  For- 
ensic Disputation.  In  his  Autobiography  he  has  left  the  following  record  : 
"I  recollect  my  father,  the  evening  before  he  died,  expressed  a  strong 
vwish  that  I,  his  only  son,  might,  if  practicable,  have  a  college  education. 
This  I  never  forgot.  This  intimation  determined  my  literary  course. 
There  were  not  a  few  obstacles  to  overcome.  I  inherited  want,  and  had 
•not  a  friend  to  help  n)0.     When  I  left  college,  I  owed  a  hundred  dollars." 

Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he  commenced  teaching  a  common 
school  in  Watertown,  but  relinquished  it,  after  a  few  months,  to  take 
charge  of  the  grammar-school  in  Cambridge,  where  he  fitted  nearly  twenty 
toys  for  College.  He  occupied  a  room,  during  this  time,  in  Hollis  Hall, 
and  devoted  his  leisure  to  the  study  of  Theology,  being  directed  in  his 
Btudies,  partly  at  least,  by  the   Rev.  Dr.  Prentiss,  of  Medfield  ;  by  whom 

*  Ms.  Autobiography. —  Ms.  from  Mr.  Robert  Roberts. 


DANIEL  CLARKE  SANDERS.  227 

also  he  was  baptized  and  admitted  to  the  Communion,  in  September,  1789, 
He  was  licensed  to  preach,  by  the  Dedhaiii  Association,  in  1790,  and 
preached  his  first  sermon  in  the  pulpit  at  Medfield,  of  which  he  afterwards 
became  the  regular  occupant.  After  leaving  his  school  at  Cambridge,  and 
preaching  for  some  time  there,  and  occasionally  at  other  places  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, he  accepted  an  invitation  to  preach  to  the  Congregational  Church 
in  Vergennes,  Vt.,  the  result  of  which  was  that,  on  the  12th  of  June, 
1794,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  as  its  Pastor.  Sometime  previous  to 
this,  he  was  married  to  Nancy,  daughter  of  Dr.  Jabez  Fitch,  who  had 
removed  to  Vergennes,  a  short  time  before,  from  Canterbury,  Conn. 

He  continued  in  this  charge  about  six  years.  Having  taken  a  deep  inte- 
rest, and  had  an  important  agency,  in  tlie  establishn)ent  of  the  then  new 
institution,  the  University  of  Vermont,  he  was  elected  its  first  President, 
and,  with  a  view  to  the  acceptance  of  that  appointment,  was  dismissed 
from  his  pastoral  charge,  on  the  17th  of  October,  1800.  This  responsible 
position  he  held  during  a  period  of  fourteen  years. 

In  1809,  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by 
Harvard  College. 

In  March,  1814,  the  town  of  Burlington  having  become  the  theatre  of 
great  agitation  on  account  of  the  War,  the  exercises  of  the  College  were 
broken  up  by  the  occupation  of  its  edifice  by  the  American  troops.  In  this 
uncertain  and  perilous  state  of  things,  he  resigned  his  place  as  President, 
and,  on  the  14th  of  May,  his  family  left  Burlington,  while  the  British  flo- 
tilla were  lying  in  the  bay,  ready,  as  was  supposed,  to  make  an  attack  on 
the  town.  As  his  health  was  now  considerably  reduced,  he  spent  the  fol- 
lowing summer  in  the  city  of  New  York,  with  a  view  to  its  improvement, 
sometimes  supplying  pulpits,  as  his  health  permitted,  or  as  occasion 
required. 

In  September  following,  he  went  to  Medfield,  and  was  invited  to  occupy 
the  pulpit  in  that  town,  which  had  been  vacated,  a  few  months  before,  by 
the  death  of  Dr.  Prentiss.  In  due  time,  he  received  and  accepted  a  call, 
and  was  installed  on  the  24th  of  May,  1815,  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion 
being  preached  by  himself,  from  Romans,  xv.,  29. 

Dr.  Sanders  was  elected,  for  Medfield  and  Dover,  a  member  of  the  Con- 
vention that  revised  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts,  whose  session  con- 
tinued from  the  15th  of  November,  1820,  to  the  9th  of  January,  1821. 

The  relation  between  Dr.  Sanders  and  his  Society  was  never  materially 
disturbed  until  1827,  when  some  agitating  questions  between  himself  and 
his  people  produced  a  state  of  things,  which  led  him  to  propose  a  resigna- 
tion of  his  pastoral  charge.  The  Parish  acceded  to  his  proposal  in  March, 
1829,  and,  on  the  24th  of  May  following,  the  arrangement  for  his  dismis- 
sion, thus  mutually  entered  into,  was  sanctioned  by  an  ecclesiastical  coun- 
cil. He  continued,  however,  to  live  at  Medfield,  and  occasionally  preached 
as  a  supply  to  vacant  churches  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  was  frequently 
chosen  to  represent  the  town  in  the  General  Court,  and,  for  many  years, 
served  as  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Selectmen,  and  of  the  School-com- 
mittee. 

Dr.  Sanders  died  at  Medfield,  very  suddenly,  of  an  affection  of  the  heart, 
on  the  ISth  of  October,  1850,  in  the  eighty-third  year  of  his  age.     His 


228 


UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


wife  died  just  ten  weeka  before  liim.     They  had  eight  children, —  two  sons 
and  six  daughters. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Sanders'  acknowledged  publications  : — 
A  Sermon  before  the  Dorchester  Lodge,  1792.  A  Sermon  before  the 
Dorchester  Lodge,  1794.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  wife  of  Dr.  Iloyt, 
New  Haven,  Vt.,  1795.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Martin  Harmon,  A. 
B.,  1798.  A  Sermon  before  the  Legislature  of  Vermont,  at  the  Annual 
Election,  1798.  A  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Death  of  George  Washing- 
ton, 1799.  A  Sermon  before  the  Washington  Lodge,  1800.  A  Sermon 
on  Slander,  1801.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  William  Coit,  Esq.,  1802. 
A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Jl^ldridge  Packer,  1802.  A  Sermon  on  the 
Death  of  Mary  llussell,  wife  of  David  Russell,  Esq.,  1805.  A  Sermon  on 
the  Death  of  William  H.  Coit,  Member  of  the  Sophomore  Class  in  the 
University  of  Vermont,  1807.  A  Charge  to  the  Graduates  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Vermont,  1807.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Emily  Jewett, 
1809.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  Henry  Lyman,  Merchant  of  Mon- 
treal, 1809.  A  Sermon  before  the  Washington  Lodge,  1811.  History  of 
the  Indians,  (anonymous,)  320  pp.,  12n)o.,  1812.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death 
of  Dr.  Cassius  Pomeroy,  and  A.  M.  and  E.  Gilbert,  Members  of  the  So- 
phomore Class  in  the  University  of  Vermont,  1813.  An  Address  deliv- 
ered in  Sherburne,  Mass.,  on  the  Return  of  Peace,  1815.  A  Sermon 
before  the  Auxiliary  Society  for  Promoting  Temperance,  Wrentham,  1815. 
A  Sermon  before  the  Norfolk  County  Convention,  Dedham,  1816.  An 
Address  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1816.  Charge  at  the  Ordination  of  Joseph 
Allen,  Northborough,  1816.  A  Sermon  at  the  Artillery  Election,  Boston, 
1817.  A  Sermon  before  tlie  Washington  Lodge  in  Roxbury,  1817.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Meeting  House  in  Medway,  1817.  A 
Sermon  on  the  History  of  Mcdfield,  1817.     An  Address  on  the  Fourth  of 

July,  at  Walpole,  -.     An  Address  before  the  Norfolk  County  Bible 

Society,  1829.     A  Sermon  at  the  Interment  of  the  Rev.  George  Morey,* 
1829. 

PROM  THE  REV.  ELEAZER  WILLTAINIS. 

HooANSBWRGH,  Mavch  25,  185G. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  ask  for  my  recollections  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Sanders,  formerl}'- 
President  of  the  University  of  Vermont.  My  acquaintance  with  him  was 
limited  to  about  two  years,  from  1812  to  1814,  while  I  was  residing,  partly  at 
Burlington  and  partly  at  Plattsbnrg,  as  Confidential  Agent  of  the  Government, 
and  Superintendent  of  Indian  affairs  for  the  Northern  Department.  In  con- 
sequence of  the  confusion  and  exposure  occasioned  by  the  war,  the  College  was 
finally  disbanded,  and  President  Sanders  returned  to  Massachusetts;  but, 
previous  to  this,  I  not  only  saw  him  frequently  in  private,  but  occasionally 
heard  him  preach,  and  had,  on  the  whole,  a  pretty  good  opportunity  of  form- 
ing a  correct  judgment  of  his  character. 

His  personal  appearance  was  decidedly  prepossessing.  He  was  rather  above 
middling  stature,  with  a  well-formed  and  symmetrical  person,  and  a  pleasing 
countenance.  He  was  affable  and  courteous  in  his  manners,  conversed  readily 
and  fluently  on  every  subject  that  came  up,  and  seemed  to  be  an  accurate 

*  George  Mouey  was  born  at  Norton,  December  29,  1749;  was  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1776;  was  settled  as  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Walpole,  Mass.,  November  19,  1783; 
was  dismissed  on  the  21st  of  May,  1826;  and  died  July  26,  1829,  aged  eighty. 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  229 

observer  of  passing  events,  in  their  bearings  especially  upon  the  great  cause 
of  civilization  and  humanit}''.  lie  appeared  to  have  a  ver}'  thorouo-h  know- 
ledge of  History,  and  could  refer  to  the  past,  either  of  our  own  or  other 
countries,  with  great  freedom  and  pertinence.  I  never  heard  him  spoken  of 
as  a  very  thorough  or  profound  scholar,  though  I  think  his  attainments,  in 
all  those  branches  that  enter  into  a  liberal  education,  were  at  least  highly 
respectable. 

Dr.  Sanders  was,  I  believe,  naturally  an  impulsive  man,  and  subject  to  fre- 
quent and  great  variations  of  feeling.  In  all  my  intercour.se  with  him,  so  far 
as  I  I'emember,  I  never  saw  him  otherwise  than  in  good  spirits;  and  yet  I 
have  heard  that  he  was  subject  to  occasional  tits  of  deep  depression.  Indeed, 
if  I  mistake  not,  this  latter  tendency  developed  itself  so  much  during  the 
closing  period  of  his  life,  as  to  form  one  of  his  most  distinctive  character- 
istics. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Sanders  was  decidedly  among  the  most  popular  in  the 
region  in  which  he  lived,  and  I  may  say,  in  the  State  of  Vermont.  Ills  tine 
person,  his  manly  and  agreeable  voice  and  graceful  gestures,  gave  gieat 
impressiveness  to  liis  utterances  in  the  pulpit.  His  style  was  modelled  rather 
after  the  French  than  the  Englisli  school,  and  I  well  remember,  on  one  occa- 
sion, to  have  seen  a  volume  of  Bossuet,  of  Bourdaloue  and  Voltaire  lying  on 
his  table  at  the  same  time;  and,  pointing  to  tlie  two  former,  he  said,  "  These 
two  works  have  been  blessings  to  the  world — but  that,"  pointing  to  Voltaire, 
«'  has  been  a  terrible  curse."  His  theolog}'  never  seemed  to  me  to  have  any 
very  distinctive  cast.  The  sermons  whicn  I  heard  him  preach,  so  far  as  I 
remember,  might  have  come  from  a  moderate  Orthodox  man  or  a  moderate 
Unitarian.  But  the  prevailing  impression  was.  at  tliat  time,  and  I  believe  it 
was  still  stronger  afterwards, —  that  he  adopted  substantially  the  Arian 
creed.  I  ought  to  say,  however,  that  I  never  heard  him  express  any  opinion 
directl}^  on  the  subject.  Respectfully  yours, 

ELEAZER  WILLIAMS 


ABIEL  ABBOT,  D.   D.* 

1790—1859. 

Abiel  Abbot  was  born  in  Wilton,  N.  II.,  December  14,  I'/OS.  He 
was  a  descendant,  in  the  sixth  generation,  of  George  Abbot,  the  first  of 
the  Tiaine  who  migrated  to  this  country.  He  was  the  eldest  cliild  of  Abiel 
Abbot,  who,  though  originally  a  cooper  by  trade,  was  cliiefly  occupied  in 
farming.  He  (the  father)  was  a  highly  respectable  man,  was  a  zealous 
patriot,  and  Major  of  a  Regiment,  during  the  Revolution  ;  and  was 
remarkable  for  industry,  equanimity,  integrity,  public  spirit,  and  benevo- 
lence. Both  his  parents  were  brought  up  under  the  ministry  of  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Phillips  of  Andover,  jMass.,  wlio  was,  after  the  straitest 
sect,  a  Calvinist;  and  the  religious  system  which  he  taught,  they  embraced, 
and  delivered  faithfully  to  their  children. 

Wlien  he  (the  son)  was  about  seven  years  old,  he  was  lost  in  the  woods, 
and  came  very  near  being  lost  irrecoverably.  His  advantages  of  education, 
during  his  earliest  years,  were  very  small,  as  he  was  taught  chiefly  by  untaught 

*  Communication  from  himself  and  several  of  his  friends. 


230  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

teachers.  When  he  was  fourteen  years  old,  he  began  to  study  Latin  under 
the  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Abel  Fiske,  the  minister  of  his  native  place; 
but  he  studied  at  considerable  disadvantage,  from  not  having  previously 
learned  English  Grranimar.  In  November,  1780,  he  was  admitted  a  stu- 
dent of  Phillips  Academy,  of  which  Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Eliphalet  Pear- 
son was  then  Preceptor.  Here  he  was  subjected  to  a  rigid  course  of  men- 
tal discipline  in  connection  with  his  classical  studies ;  and  here  no  doubt 
was  laid  the  foundation  of  that  remarkable  simplicity  and  precision  of  stylo 
for  which  he  was  ever  afterwards  so  much  distinguished,  lie  continued  in 
the  Academy  until  July,  1783,  when  he  joined  the  Freshman  class  in  Har- 
vard College,  having  read  considerably  more  of  Latin  and  Greek  than  was 
necessary  to  admission.  He  passed  through  College  without  ever  incur- 
ring fine  or  censure,  and  with  a  high  reputation  for  both  character  and 
scholarship.  His  taste  inclined  him  chiefly  to  the  study  of  the  Languages, 
in  which  he  particularly  excelled. 

Within  a  few  months  after  leaving  College,  he  was  invited  to  become 
Assistant  to  Mr.  Pemberton,  then  Principal  of  the  Phillips  Andover 
Academy.  He  accepted  the  invitation,  and  remained  in  the  place  till  July, 
1789,  upon  a  salary  of  sixteen  shillings  per  week.  This  was  important  to 
him  as  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  review  his  elementary  studies  ;  and, 
in  addition  to  this,  he  derived  much  advantage  from  a  meeting  of  young 
men  for  purposes  of  mutual  improvement. 

Immediately  on  leaving  the  Academy  at  Andover,  he  entered  vigorously 
on  the  study  of  Theology,  availing  himself  of  the  library,  and  to  some 
extent  of  the  instruction,  of  the  l\ev.  Jonathan  French.  The  books  which 
he  read  were  all  of  the  most  thorough  orthodox  stamp.  In  June,  1790, 
he  was  approved  as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry  by  the  Andover  Associa- 
tion and  preached,  for  the  first  time,  at  Amesbury,  in  the  pulpit  of  his 
classmate  the  Rev.  Francis  AVelch,*  from  Matt,  xxii,  37,  38.  After 
preaching,  for  some  little  time,  successively,  at  Kensington,  N.  II.,  Gar- 
diner, Mass,,  and  Cambridge,  he  was  employed  as  a  missionary  in  the  Dis- 
trict of  Maine,  in  connection  with  the  Rev.  Daniel  Little, t  known  as  "the 
Apostle  of  the  East,"  under  the  patronage  of  the  Society  for  Propaga- 
ting the  Gospel.  He  continued  in  missionary  labour  five  months,  and, 
notwithstanding  the  privations  and  sacrifices  incident  to  that  kind  of  work, 
his  time  generally  passed  very  pleasantly. 

After  completing  his  missionary  tour,  he  preached,  in  1792,  in  several 
places,  as  Nelson,  Greenfield,  and  Peterborough  ;  but  in  neither  of  them 
were  the  people  prepared  to  settle  a  minister.  In  February,  1793,  he 
preached  at  Middleton,  and  in  April  went  to  Penobscot,  and  preached 
there  and  at  Castiue,  until  November.      He  was  invited  to  settle  in  Cas- 

*  Francis  Welch  was  born  at  Plaistow,  N.  H.,  on  the  30th  of  May,  1766;  was  graduated 
at  Harvard  College  in  1787;  was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Amesbury  on  the  3d  of 
June,  1789;  and  died  on  the  15th  of  December,  1793,  aged  twenty-eight  years. 

f  Danikl  Little  was  a  native  of  Newbury,  Mass.;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of 
the  church  in  Kennebunk,  Me.,  immediately  after  its  organization;  was  honoured  with  the 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  from  Harvard  College,  in  1766,  received  for  his  colleague  Nathan- 
iel Hill  Fletcher,  in  1800;  and  died  suddenly  in  October  of  the  following  year.  Mr. 
Fletcheu  was  a  native  of  Boxborough,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1793; 
was  ordained  and  installed  at  Kennebunk,  on  the  3d,  of  September,  1800;  was  dismissed  on 
the  24th  of  October,  1827;  and  died  at  Boxborough,  on  the  4th  of  September,  1834.  He 
published  a  Discourse  on  the  question,  How  far  Unanimity  in  Religious  Opinion  is  necessary 
in  order  to  Christian  Communion^  1827. 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  231 

tine,  but  declined  the  invitation.  In  December,  he  preached  a  few  Sab- 
baths at  West  Newbury,  then  vacant  by  the  removal  of  Dr.  Tappau  to  the 
Professorship  of  Divinity  in  Harvard  College. 

In  January,  1794,  he  became  Tutor  of  the  Greek  Language  at  Harvard 
College,  and  continued  in  the  Tutorship  one  year  ;  preaching  occasionally 
for  the  neighbouring  ministers,  and,  during  a  part  of  the  time,  supplying 
the  pulpit  at  Newbury,  and  also  at  Maiden. 

In  January,  1795,  he  went  to  Coventry,  Conn.,  upon  an  invitation  to 
preach  there  as  a  candidate.  He  supplied  the  pulpit  eight  Sabbaths,  and  was 
requested  to  return,  but  declined.  During  his  stay  there,  he  had  attended 
a  ministerial  meeting  at  Marlborough  ;  and,  from  certain  discussions  which 
took  place  at  that  meeting,  he  inferred  that  the  theological  views  of  the 
ministers  generally  were  much  more  stringent  than  his  own,  and  that  he 
should  probably  find  little  sympathy,  if  he  were  to  become  associated  with 
them.  Under  these  circumstances,  he  thought  proper  to  decline  the  invi- 
tation to  return,  though  he  was  uniformly  treated  by  the  people  with  great 
respect  and  kindness.  His  preaching,  at  this  period,  did  not  approach 
nearer  to  the  accredited  orthodoxy  than  Arminianism. 

In  May,  1795,  he  preached  several  Sabbaths  in  Milford,  N.  H.  In  June 
he  spent  a  Sabbath  in  Lexington,  and  preached  for  the  llev.  Jonas  Clark; 
and  Judge  Ripley,  one  of  the  Committee  for  supplying  the  pulpit  in  Cov- 
entry, being  in  Boston,  and  having  learned  that  Mr.  Abbot  was  to  pass  the 
Sabbath  at  Lexington,  rode  out  there,  to  endeavour  to  secure  his  services 
again  at  Coventry.  Mr.  A.  yielded  to  the  Judge's  importunate  request, 
and  returned.  His  preaching  was  chiefly  practical,  as  it  had  been  before  ; 
and,  being  requested  by  an  aged  lady,  (a  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Meacham, 
the  first  minister  of  that  parish),  to  preach  on  the  text, — "  What  think 
ye  of  Christ  ?"  he  did  so,  and,  so  far  as  he  knew,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
people. 

In  August  following,  he  received  a  unanimous  call  from  the  Cliurch  and 
Society  to  become  their  Pastor ;  but  the  apprehension  that  his  views  were 
not  sufficiently  in  accordance  with  the  views  of  the  neighbouring  ujinisters 
to  warrant  the  expectation  of  so  peaceable  a  ministry  as  he  desired,  disposed 
him  to  return  a  negative  answer.  He  wrote  his  answer  accordingly,  plac- 
ing his  declinature,  however,  on  the  ground  that  the  salary  which  was 
offered  (a  hundred  pounds)  would  be  inadequate  to  the  support  of  a  family. 
When  it  became  known  that  the  answer  was  in  the  negative, —  though  it 
had  not  then  been  formally  promulged, —  a  subscription  was  immediately 
set  on  foot,  and  in  this  way  fifty  pounds  more  were  secured  with  very  little 
effort.  As  the  case  now  presented  itself,  he  felt  constrained  to  give,  and 
accordingly  did  give,  an  affirmative  answer  to  the  call.  A  Council  for 
Ordination  was  agreed  on,  though  two  of  the  neighbouring  ministers  origi- 
nally named,  were  set  aside,  and  two  others  substituted,  from  an  appre- 
hension that  such  a  measure  might  be  necessary  to  secure  harmony  in  the- 
Council. 

His  Ordination  took  place  on  the  28th  of  October,  1795,  the  Sermon 
being  preached  by  the  Rev.  Abel  Fiske,  of  Wilton,  and  the  Ordaining 
Prayer  offered  by  the  Rev.  Professor  Tappan  of  Harvard  College.  H& 
was  immediately  invited  to  take  up  his  residence,  for  some  time,  in  two  ot 


232  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

three  of  tlie  prominent  families  in  lii.s  congregation,  and  he  actually  accept- 
ed an  invitation  from  Miijor  Plale,  in  whose  house  he  lived  gratuitou.sly  till 
June,  1797.  This  instance  of  liberality  was  alike  accommodating  to  his 
finances,  and  gratifying  to  his  feelings. 

Mr.  Alibot  was  married  on  the  19th  of  May,  1796,  to  Elizabeth,  daugh- 
ter of  Juhn  and  Abigail  Abbot,  of  Andover.  They  had  three  daughters, 
one  of  whom  only  has  survived  her  father.  Mrs.  Abbot,  who  was  a  lady 
of  fine  personal  qualities,  and  was  greatly  respected  in  all  her  relations, 
was  a  paralytic  during  many  of  her  latter  years,  and  died  several  years 
before  hor  husband. 

Mr.  Abbot,  though  brought  up  a  Trinitarian  and  a  Calvinisfc,  seems 
never  to  have  fully  received,  even  intellectually,  what  is  commonly  called 
the  Orthodox  system  ;  while  yet,  at  the  commencement  of  his  ministry, 
he  was  scarcely  sensible  of  any  great  departure  from  it.  In  1791,  he 
wrote  a  sermon  enumerating  some  doctrines  peculiar  to  Christianity,  one 
of  which  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  In  1792,  he  read  Dr.  Price's 
sermons  on  the  Christian  Doctrine,  which  gave  to  his  niind  a  decided  Anti- 
trinitarian  bias.  In  1803,  he  set  himself  to  a  more  formal  and  earnest  ex- 
amination of  the  subject,  the  immediate  occasion  of  which  was  the  avowal, 
by  the  Rev.  John  Sherman,  of  Mansfield,  of  Unitarian  opinions.  The 
result  was  a  full  conviction  that  Jesus  Christ  is  not  the  Supreme  God; 
though  he  never  broached  the  subject  in  his  preaching,  nor  even  in  private 
conversation,  unless  among  particular  friends.  In  1805,  he  was  a  member 
of  tlie  Council  called  to  deliberate  on  the  ease  of  Mr.  Sherman,  and  voted 
in  favour  of  giving  him  a  certificate  of  good  standing  in  the  ministry. 
Even  this  seemed  to  produce  no  visible  dissatisfaction  in  his  parish,  not- 
withstanding his  delegate,  Judge  Root,  gave  a  different  vote.  Not  long 
after  this,  however,  owing  to  other  circuujstances,  suspicions  in  regard  to 
his  orthodoxy  began  to  be  awakened,  and  several  members  of  the  church 
felt  themselves  called  upon  to  interrogate  him  directly  on  the  subject. 
The  result  was  that  they  became  satisfied  that  their  suspicions  were  well 
founded,  and  things  were  forthwith  put  in  train  to  effect  his  ultimate  sepa- 
ration from  his  charge.  In  1807,  he  requested  his  people  to  add  one  hun- 
dred dollars  to  his  salary,  as  it  was  not  sufficient  for  the  support  of  his 
family  ;  though  he  made  the  request  with  the  secret  hope  that  it  would 
facilitate  his  removal  from  the  parish.  This  request  being  declined,  he 
immediately  asked  for  a  dismission,  presuming  that  the  circumstance  of 
his  having  made  the  request  for  more  salary  might  at  least  render  his  situ- 
ation less  comfortable,  if  it  did  not  produce  positive  alienation.  The 
parish  voted  not  to  grant  his  request  for  a  dismission,  but  at  the  same 
time  voted  to  add  the  hundred  dollars  to  his  salary.  But,  in  consequence 
of  the  didiculties  of  the  times,  owing  particulai'ly  to  the  Embargo,  which 
had  then  just  been  imposed,  Mr.  Abbot  desired  the  Committee  not  to  assess 
the  one  hundred  dollars  for  1808,  as  he  was  willing  to  share  the  hard  times 
with  his  parishioners  ;  but  it  was,  in  a  good  degree,  made  up  by  the  volun- 
tary contribution  of  useful  articles  from  both  sexes. 

In  1809,  there  was  a  meeting  of  the  church,  at  which  Mr.  Abbot  was 
invited  to  be  present,  in  order  that  they  might  ascertain  more  definitely 
•bis  views  of  Christian  doctrine ;  but  it  resulted  in  nothing  satisfactory. 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  233 

In  June,  ISIO,  there  was  anotlier  similar  n)eeting,  held  for  a  similar  pur- 
pose, ami  with  a  like  unsatisfactory  result.  In  October,  1810,  the  Church 
sent  a  delegation  to  the  Association,  then  met  at  Willingtoii,  to  ask  advice 
as  to  the  course  they  should  pursue  ;  and  the  Association  advised  that  they 
should  convoke  the  Consociation  of  Tolland  County.  When  the  delegates 
made  their  report  to  the  church,  a  vote  was  passed  to  comply  with  the 
advice  of  the  Association,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  request  the  parish  to 
join  in  calling  the  Consociation.  This  proposal  the  parish  declined,  though 
they  expressed  their  willingness  to  join  Mr.  Abbot  and  the  church  in  call- 
ing a  Mutual  Council,  to  whom  the  whole  difficulty  should  be  referred.  But 
this  the  Church,  by  its  committee,  refused.  It  was  then  proposed  to  Mr. 
Abbot,  by  some  leading  members  of  the  church,  that  lie  should  join  them 
in  calling  a  Mutual  Council  to  dismiss  him  ;  and  he  consented  to  this,  pro- 
vided the  parish  would  dissolve  his  contract  with  them.  And  it  was  pro- 
posed to  the  parish  that  they  should  join  in  calling  a  Council  for  his  dis- 
mission ;  but  to  this  they  would  not  consent.  After  this,  the  Consociation 
•was  convoked  agreeably  to  the  advice  of  the  Association  ;  and,  on  the 
16th  of  April,  1811,  the  Consociation  assembled  at  Coventry.  Mr.  Abbot 
entered  a  protest  against  the  authority  of  the  Body  on  several  different 
grounds  ;  but  his  objections  were  not  considered  as  valid,  and  they  pro- 
ceeded to  depose  him  from  the  ministry  on  the  ground  of  his  holding 
heretical  doctrines. 

As  neither  Mr.  Abbot  nor  the  parish  acknowledged  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  Court,  so  neither  did  they  consider  themselves  bound  by  the  result. 
Accordingly,  he  continued  to  occupy  the  pulpit  as  usual  ;  though  he  and 
they  soon  after  joined  in  calling  another  Council  from  Massachusetts,  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  prominent  Unitarian  ministers,  which  assembled  on  the 
6th  of  June  fullowing,  reviewed  the  whole  case,  and  declared  jMr.  Abbot's 
relation  to  his  people  unaffected  by  the  decision  of  the  Consociation  — 
nevertheless,  in  view  of  the  peculiar  circumstances,  the}'  concluded  that 
his  interests  and  the  interests  of  his  parish  required  that  his  pastoral  rela- 
tion should  be  dissolved.  In  August  following,  Mr.  Abbot  published  a 
Statement  of  his  difficulties  at  Coventry,  which  was  subsequently  replied  to 
by  the  Association  of  Tolland  County,  in  a  pamphlet,  written  by  the  Rev. 
^afterwards  Dr.)  Amos  Bassett,  of  Hebron.  The  General  Association  of 
Connecticut,  at  its  session  in  June,  1812,  took  notice  of  the  matter,  by 
request  of  the  Tolland  Association,  and  made  a  Report  on  the  subject  of 
considerable  length. 

About  the  1st  of  September,  Mr.  Abbot  left  Coventry,  and  went  to 
Byfield,  Mass.,  and  took  charge  of  Dummer  Academy.  After  continuing 
thiis  employed  for  seven  years  and  a  half,  he  removed  in  April,  1819,  to 
the  North  Parish  of  Andover,  where,  for  some  time,  he  was  engaged  in 
conducting  a  farm.  In  May,  1824,  he  removed  to  Chelmsford,  where  he, 
assisted  by  one  of  his  daughters,  opened  a  school.  In  the  autumn  of  1826, 
he  went  to  live  at  Wilton,  where  also  he  took  charge  of  a  farm.  During 
his  residence  in  these  several  places,  he  often  preached  for  his  brethren  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and,  at  one  time,  he  occupied  the  pulpit  in  North  Ando- 
ver, for  several  months,  without  interruption.  In  March,  1827,  he  went  to 
preach  at  Peterborough,  in  the  pulpit  rendered  vacant  by  the  then  recent 


234  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

dismission  of  the  Rev.  Elijah  Dunbar.  About  the  1st  of  May  he  received 
a  call,  which  he  accepted  ;  and  in  June  following  he  was  installed,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Abbot  of  Beverly  preaching  on  the  occasion.  He  received  the  degree 
of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College  in  1838. 

He  continued  in  the  regular  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his  office  at  Peter- 
borough for  twelve  years;  but,  in  March,  1839,  he  found  it  necessary,  on. 
account  of  a  severe  bronchial  affection,  to  tender  the  resignation  of  his 
charge.  He,  however,  retained  a  nominal  pastoral  relation  until  Septem- 
ber, 1848,  when,  on  the  settlement  of  another  Pastor,  he  thought  best  that 
his  relation  to  the  people  should  be  formally  dissolved.  Fur  some  yeara 
af(er  he  had  ceased  to  preach  regularly,  he  occasionally  supplied  pulpits  in 
the  n>.ighbourhood,  though,  during  several  of  his  last  years,  he  fuuud  him- 
self obliged  to  decline  all  public  service. 

In  1854,  his  grandson,  Samuel  Abbot  Smith,  having  become  Pastor  of 
the  Cliurch  in  West  Cambridge,  Mass.,  Dr.  Abbot  removed  thitlier  to 
spend  his  remaining  days.  Here  he  lived  as  the  Patriarch  of  his  neigh- 
bourliood,  admired  for  his  cultivated  intellect,  his  bland  manners,  and  his 
genial  and  philanthropic  spirit.  In  the  fall  of  1859,  he  made  a  visit  to 
his  relatives  in  Wilton,  and  passed  several  weeks  there  ;  and,  tliuugh  bend- 
ing under  the  infirmities  of  age,  he  was  still  bright  and  cheerful,  and 
revelled  amidst  the  scenes  of  his  early  recollections.  He  returned  home  in 
his  usual  health,  and  there  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  to  render  it 
improbable  that  several  years  might  still  be  added  to  his  life.  On  the 
morning  of  the  31st  of  December,  he  arose  as  usual,  and  took  his  break- 
fast without  any  signs  of  indisposition  ;  but  shortly  after  he  left  tlie  table, 
he  complained  of  severe  pain  in  the  chest,  and  he  lived  only  long  enough 
to  be  |daced  on  his  bed.  He  died  at  the  age  of  ninety-four,  and,  at  the 
time  of  his  death,  was  the  oldest  graduate  of  Harvard  College. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Abbot's  publications  : — 

A'Sernion  preached  at  North  Coventry,  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1799. 
Riglit  Hanil  of  Fellowship,  addressed  to  Corntdius  Adams,*  at  Lis  Ordi- 
natioti.  1805.  A  Statement  of  Proceedings  in  the  First  Society  in  Coven- 
try, Conn.,  which  terminated  in  the  Removal  of  the  Pastor:  with  an 
Address  to  his  late  People,  1811.  An  Address  delivered  before  the  Essex 
Agricultural  Society,  at  the  Agricultural  Exhibition  in  Danvers,  1821. 
History  of  Andover  from  its  settlement  to  1829,1829.  A  Genealogical 
Register  of  the  Descendants  of  George  Abbot  of  Andover,  George  Abbot 
of  Rowley,  Thomas  Abbot  of  Andover,  &c.,  1847.  The  Rev.  Ephraim 
Abbot  was  associated  with  him  in  the  authorship  of  the  last  mentioned 
work. 

The  first  time  that  I  came  in  contact  with  Mr.  Abbot  was  three  or  four 
weeks  after  his  Ordination,  when  he  laid  his  hand  upon  me,  an  infant  about 
a  month  old,  in  the  administration  of  Baptism  ;  for,  though  my  father  was 
not  a  member  of  his  church,  he  happened  to  exchange  with  the  minister 
of  our  parish  that  day.  and  thus  it  was  that  I  was  baptized  by  him.  During 
the  period  of  my  childhood  And  early  youth,  I  used   to  hear  him  preach 

•  Cornelius  Adams  was  graduated  at  Yale  College  in  180.3;  was  ordained,  and  installed 
Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Windham,  (Scotland  Parish,)  Conn.,  December  5, 
18U5,  and  died  the  next  year. 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  235 

very  often,  and  I  well  ronieiuber  that  tlie  exchanges  which  our  minister 
made  witli  him  were  always  gratifying  to  tlje  congregation.  When  I  was 
a  little  more  than  twelve  years  of  age,  as  I  lived  only  between  two  and 
three  miles  from  his  residence,  I  began  to  study,  under  his  instruction,  ia 
preparation  for  College;  and  I  think  his  interest  in  me  from  the  beginning 
was  somewhat  increased  by  the  fact  that,  as  soon  as  he  knew  my  name,  he 
recollected  that  I  was  the  first  child  he  ever  baptized.  I  was  his  pupil 
during  the  greater  part  of  the  time  for  three  years, —  until  the  autumn  of 
1811,  wlien  I  entered  College.  I  was  with  him  during  the  protracted 
scene  of  trial  and  conflict  which  terminated  in  his  separation  from  his  peo- 
ple. I  reniember  once  to  have  been  present  when  Judge  Koot  came  to 
interrogate  him  in  respect  to  his  religious  views,  but  the  answers  to  his 
inquiries  were  too  indefinite  to  be  satisfactory.  When  the  Consociation  of 
Tolland  County  assembled  to  adjudicate  his  case,  I  was  sitting  in  the  gal- 
lery with  other  boys  of  my  ago,  and  when  he  looked  up  and  saw  me,  he 
beckoned  to  me  to  come  down  and  take  my  seat  in  the  pew  with  him,  and 
take  notes  of  the  discussions  —  and  thus  T  was  employed  during  a  consid- 
erable part  of  the  session.  When  the  Council  from  Massachusetts  was  to 
be  called,  I  went,  with  the  consent  of  my  father,  to  carry  the  letter  missive 
to  the  various  clergymen  invited  to  attend  ;  and  when  the  Council  con- 
vened, I  heard  tiieir  deliberations  at  Mr.  Abbot's  house  ;  and  heard  their 
result  at  the  church  ;  and  witnessed  all  the  demonstrations  of  joy  and  sor- 
row consequent  upon  it.  I  entered  Yale  College  about  the  tin)e  that  he 
"went  to  Newbury  to  take  charge  of  Dummer  Academy  ;  but  I  visited  him 
more  than  once  during  his  residence  there,  as  I  did  also  in  every  other 
place  in  which  he  subsequently  resided  ;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  my  own 
father  never  gave  n)e  a  more  cordial  welcome  than  I  uniformly  received 
from  him.  My  last  visit  to  him  was  at  Wilton,  at  the  house  of  a  near 
relative,  with  whom  he  had  been  spending  a  few  weeks.  His  home  was 
now  at  West  Cambridge  ;  but  as  I  was  at  Boston,  and  was  unwil- 
ling to  return  without  seeing  him,  I  made  a  journey  to  W^ilton  for  the 
purpose.  I  found  him  apparently  in  better  health,  and  with  more  of  men- 
tal vigour,  than  for  a  year  or  two  preceding  ;  and  when  we  parted,  there 
was  nothing  apparent  to  render  it  improbable  that  we  should  meet  again. 
He  lingered  a  week  or  two  longer  with  his  Wilton  friends,  and  then,  after 
stopping  a  little  with  his  only  surviving  sister,  who  lived  in  a  neighbour- 
ing town,  he  returned  to  his  home  in  West  Cambridge.  A  few  weeks 
after,  a  telegraphic  despatch  summoned  me  to  his  Funeral. 

Dr.  Abbot  was,  I  think,  rather  above  the  ordinary  stature,  of  light 
complexion,  with  a  bright  hazel  eye,  and  a  countenance  expressive  of  a  fine 
intellect,  and  a  calm  yet  cheerful  temper.  His  face,  so  far  as  my  ob- 
servation extended,  never  took  on  a  look  of  anger,  or  peevishness,  or  dis- 
content, but  so  easily  brightened  into  a  smile  that  that  might  almost  be 
said  to  be  his  habitual  expression.  And  his  face  was  no  false  index  to  his 
character — I  have  never  known  a  man  of  a  more  equable  or  kindly  temper- 
ament— never  one  who  more  uniformly  and  conscientiously  refrained  from 
all  harsh  or  hasty  judgments — never  one  who  was  more  bent  on  finding 
apologies  for  those  who  he  believed  had  done  wrong,  even  when  he  was 
himself  the  subject  of  it.     Whatever  else  may  be  thought  of  his  position 


236  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

at  Coventry,  all  will  agree  that  it  was  a  deeply  painful  one — his  brethren 
believed,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  they  considered  him  as  holding 
views  subversive  of  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints  ;  but  I  never 
knew  him,  during  the  whole  time,  betray  the  least  sign  of  an  embittered 
spirit,  or  of  jealousy,  or  even  disquietude — on  the  contrary,  he  always, — 
even  to  the  close  of  life,  (for  I  think  that  in  my  very  last  conversation 
with  him  the  subject  was  introduced,)  spoke  kindly  of  the  brethren  who 
deposed  him,  and  said  that  he  had  never,  for  a  moment,  doubted  that  they 
were  influenced  by  honest  convictions  of  duty,  and  that  they  sufl'ered  more 
than  lie  did  from  tlie  course  which  they  felt  conscience-bound  to  take.  I 
am  bound  to  say  also  that,  though  he  well  understood  that  my  own  religious 
views  were  widely  different  from  his,  and  that  too  when  he  had  had  a  right 
to  expect  a  different  result,  he  never  manifested  any  less  of  affectionate 
regard  for  me,  or  of  interest  in  the  success  of  my  ministry,  than  if  I  had 
been  enlisted  under  the  same  ecclesiastical  or  theological  banner  with 
himself. 

Dr.  Abbot's  intellect  was  rather  clear,  sober  and  symmetrical,  than 
startling  or  brilliant.  I  do  not  think  that  his  mind  moved  with  great 
rapidity — on  the  contrary,  it  was  more  than  ordinarily  cautious  in  coming 
to  its  conclusions,  and  would  sometimes  hold  an  important  subject  in  sus- 
pense till  it  had  gone  through  a  protracted  and  patient  course  of  investiga- 
tion. His  taste  was  remarkably  exact,  and  was  little  tolerant  of  the 
highly  imnginative,  especially  in  the  pulpit.  His  discourses  were  lucidly, 
logically  and  compactly  constructed,  always  exiiibiting  a  vein  of  good 
sense,  and  a  style  of  great  classical  precision.  You  might  read  one  of  his 
sermons  through,  and  not  find  a  sentence  that  could  be  spared  without 
leaving  a  perceptible  chasm,  or  a  word,  without  impairing  the  force  of  the 
sentence  to  which  it  belonged.  But  there  would  be  little  of  a  stirring  or 
exciting  character,  and  no  attempt  to  approach  the  emotional  nature,  ex- 
cept through  the  deliberate  workings  of  the  intellect.  So  long  as  he 
remained  at  Coventry,  his  preaching  was  chiefly  of  a  practical  character, 
though,  during  the  earlier  years  of  his  ministry  at  least,  he  was  not  com- 
plained of  for  any  lack  of  evangelical  doctrine,  and  some  of  his  manuscript 
sermons,  which  I  have  read,  bring  out  the  doctrine  of  the  pre-existence 
and  atonement  of  Christ  with  great  distinctness.  His  manner  in  the 
pulpit  was  serious,  dignified,  but  unimpassioned.  He  read  his  discourses 
closely, —  rarely,  I  think,  taking  his  eye  from  his  manuscript;  but  he  read 
them,  as  he  did  the  Scriptures  and  every  thing  else,  with  the  very  perfec- 
tion of  accent  and  emphasis,  and  so  as  to  leave  no  doubt  upon  any  mind  as 
to  the  exact  meaning  of  what  he  uttered.  His  tones  in  reading  were  as 
much  of  a  conversational  character  as  the  subject  would  allow.  Tliere 
was  a  natural  rigidity  in  his  voice,  and  withal  an  impediment  in  his  speech, 
that  interfered  much  with  the  effect  of  his  speaking  ;  though  this  latter 
quality  was  far  less  perceptible  in  the  pulpit  than  in  private  intercourse. 

His  presence  was  always  hailed  with  delight  in  any  circle  into  which  he 
might  fall  ;  for  every  one  who  looked  at  him  felt  the  warmth  and  kindli- 
ness of  his  spirit,  though  his  powers  of  utterance  did  but  little  justice 
cither  to  his  thoughts  or  his  feelings.  I  have  seen  him  thrown  into  a 
company  of  several  persons,  every  one  of  whom  was  greatly  inferior  to 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  237 

himself  in  both  talents  and  acquirements,  and  yet  he  would  scarcely  open 
his  lips,  unless  in  direct  answer  to  some  question  that  was  put  to  him. 
There  were  occasions,  however,  when  he  would  speak  continuously,  not 
only  witli  great  propriety,  but  with  a  good  degree  of  fluency.  I  remem- 
ber to  have  heard  liis  brother-in-law,  Dr.  Abbot,  of  Beverly,  say  that  he 
(Mr.  Abbot,  of  Coventry)  arrived  at  liis  house  one  evening,  in  the  midst 
of  an  unusual  seriousness  in  his  congregation,  and  when  a  number  of  young 
persoiis  had  met  in  liis  parlour  to  be  counselled  in  respect  to  their  spiritual 
interests.  Mr.  A.,  by  iiis  request,  and  without  any  time  for  premeditation, 
addressed  them  ;  and  he  said  he  could  not  have  done  it  more  appropriately, 
if  he  had  made  the  most  mature  preparation,  or  more  fluently,  if  he  had 
had  his  manuscript  before  him. 

Few  men  were  so  exact  in  all  their  habits  as  Dr.  Abbot.  His  domestic 
affairs,  so  far  as  they  came  under  his  control,  (and  the  same  remark  was 
applicable  to  his  excellent  wife,)  were  managed  with  the  utmost  discretion 
and  carefulness  ;  and  while  tliore  never  was  the  semblance  of  piirsimoiiy, 
neither  was  there  the  semblance  of  waste,  exhibited  in  any  of  his  house- 
hold or  financial  arrangements.  He  was,  in  a  high  degree,  benevolent 
and  public-spirited,  as  was  evinced  by  the  generous  promptness  with  which 
he  responded,  according  to  his  ability,  to  the  various  claims  which  were 
made  upon  him,  but  especially  by  liis  efforts  in  establishing  two  ministerial 
libraries, —  one  in  Wilton,  his  native  place, —  the  other  in  Peterborough, 
■where  he  had  his  last  pastorate — and  it  is  worthy  to  be  recorded  that,  in 
each  case,  he  took  care  that  a  cotisiderable  portion  of  tlie  books  should  be 
standard  works  in  Orthodox  Theology  ;  giving,  as  a  reason  for  this,  tliat  he 
wished  that  every  question  should  be  examined  in  the  brightest  possible 
light.  He  seemed  to  have  both  a  natural  fondness  and  a  natural  adapted- 
ness  for  minute  details — in  illustration  of  this,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
refer  to  his  History  of  Andover,  and  his  Genealogy  of  the  Abbot  Family, 
both  of  which  works  display  an  immense  amount  of  careful  research,  and 
the  latter  is  the  more  remarkable,  as  being  the  work  of  a  man  who  had 
seen  more  than  fourscore  years.  His  memory,  especially  for  facts,  was  one 
of  the  most  exact  and  retentive  that  T  have  ever  known.  It  seemed  as  if 
every  incident  in  his  experience,  and  every  important  event  that  had  ever 
come  within  his  knowledge,  was  fresh  to  his  recollection,  to  the  very  last. 
So  perfectly  familiar  did  he  show  himself,  in  the  very  last  conversation  I 
had  with  him,  with  all  the  minute  circumstances  attending  his  troubles  at 
Coventry,  that  I  could  not  doubt  that,  even  if  he  had  had  no  memoranda  to 
refer  to,  he  could  have  made  out,  from  memory,  a  complete  and  perfectly 
authentic  narrative  of  the  whole  affair.  What  the  particular  type  of  Dr. 
Abbot's  Unitarianism  was,  especially  in  his  latter  years,  I  have  no  means 
of  knowing;  and  I  have  some  doubts  whether  he  ever  communicated  his 
views  very  explicitly  to  any  one  ;  and  it  is  quite  possible  that,  to  the  last, 
his  views  on  certain  points  may  not  have  been  fully  established.  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that,  when  he  left  Coventry,  he  was  an  Arian  ;  but  what 
changes,  if  any,  his  mind  underwent  afterwards,  I  cannot  even  conjecture. 
In  regard  to  the  doctrine  of  retribution,  I  have  been  informed,  upon  un- 
questionable authority,  that  he  ultimately  reposed  in  the  idea  of  a  final 
universal  restoration. 


238  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  H.  JONES,  D.  D. 

Philadklphia,  November  4,  1861. 

My  dear  Friend;  Mj^  recollections  of  Dr.  Abiel  Abbot  go  back  to  the  time 
"when  I  was  not  more  than  four  or  tive  j-ears  old.  But  I  can  connect  hiui  with 
no  event  of  mj'  life  earlier  than  the  age  of  about  ten.  I  had  received  an  injury 
in  one  of  ray  feet,  which  had  crippled  me  for  a  few  weeks,  but  so  soon  as  I 
could  venture  to  use  it  a  little,  I  remember  to  have  hopped  across  the  street 
to  his  house  to  ask  him  whether  I  was  old  enough  to  begin  the  study  of  Latin. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  pleasant  surprise  produced  by  his  answer,  when,  in 
his  bland  and  encouraging  manner,  he  told  me,  "  Yes, —  that  I  was  not  too 
little  nor  too  young;"  and  he  very  kindly  promised  to  hear  me  recite;  and 
thus  my  first  lessons  in  Latin  were  received  from  him. 

The  ecclesiastical  troubles  which  occurred  soon  after,  which  resulted  in  his 
withdrawing  from  his  pastoral  charge  and  from  the  State  of  Connecticut, 
deprived  me  of  his  instruction  till  he  had  become  the  Principal  of  Dummer 
Academ}',  near  Nevvburyport,  Mass.  In  the  mean  time,  I  was  under  the  care 
of  an  amiable  country  Pastor,  who  was  a  ver^Mucompetent  teacher  of  the  Lan- 
guages, and  whose  classical  orthoepy  was  scandalous.  On  returning  to  Dr. 
Abbot,  I  remember  how  his  fastidious  Cantabridgian  ears  were  oiFended  by 
my  shocking  pronunciation.  He  seemed,  at  the  time,  to  be  as  familiar  with 
the  Greek  and  Latin  classics  as  he  had  been  twenty  years  before,  when  he 
left  the  University.  He  was  a  most  accurate  scholar,  and  one  of  the  best 
teachers  I  ever  knew;  and  some  of  the  most  distinguished  graduates  of  Har- 
vard College  have  been  among  his  pupils.  If  I  have  ever  read  the  classics 
with  pleasure  or  advantage,  T  owe  it  to  the  faithful  and  most  effective  drilling 
of  this  most  honoured  son  of  Harvard.  How  many  years  he  continued  his 
useful  labours  as  a  teacher  I  do  not  recollect;  but  if  any  student  left  him 
"without  a  critical  knowlege  of  every  branch  in  which  he  had  been  instructed, 
I  am  sure  it  was  not  the  fault  of  the  instructor.  There  was  the  usual  variety 
of  character  and  disposition  among  the  students  of  the  Academy,  and  our 
excellent  Preceptor  had  much  to  try  his  temper  and  patience;  but  his  equan- 
imity was  remarkable.  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  saw  him  excited  in  the 
least  to  anger.  Being  an  inmate  in  his  family,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing him,  as  his  habits  and  feelings  were  developed  in  domestic  life.  When  out 
of  school,  so  much  of  his  time  was  spent  in  study  that  I  saw  but  little  of  him, 
except  at  the  time  of  our  daily  meals,  or  when  he  took  his  favourite  exercise 
in  the  garden.  He  was  then  very  entertaining  and  instructive  in  his  conver- 
sation, and  made  it  very  pleasant  for  others  to  be  with  him.  On  Sabbath 
afternoon,  the  boarders  assembled  with  his  family  to  hear  a  sermon  read  from 
some  distinguished  author.  The  only  one  I  recollect  was  Dr.  Watts.  Towards 
myself  the  deportment  of  Dr.  Abbot  was  uniformly  affectionate  and  parental. 
His  three  lovely  daughters  I  esteemed  as  sisters,  and  had  I  been  their  bro- 
ther, they  could  not  have  treated  me  with  greater  confidence  or  kindness. 

During  my  four  years'  sojourn  at  Cambridge,  I  was  always  made  welcome 
to  his  house,  as  a  home,  whenever  I  had  the  opportunity  of  returning  to  it. 
He  was  my  counsellor,  my  helper,  in  many  an  extremity,  w^atching  for  my 
welfare  with  all  the  solicitude  of  a  father;  and  I  feel  it  due  to  this  generous 
and  noble-minded  friend  to  state,  in  this  public  way,  that  to  his  advice  and 
agency,  in  many  ways,  I  am  indebted  for  my  classical  education,  especially  in 
Harvard  College.  He  was  an  admirable  man, —  amiable,  benevolent  and 
learned,  but  unassuming  and  modest.  When  visited  with  sore  trials  in  later 
life,  he  was  submissive  and  uncomplaining.  The  last  letter  I  ever  received 
from  him  was  touching  and  beautiful.  After  speaking  apologetically  of  "  the 
slow  movements  and  broken  thoughts  and  memory  of  an  octogenarian,"  he 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  239 

adds, — "  I  do  not  say  this  with  a  murmuring  or  impatient  spirit,  for  a  kind 
Providence  has  allotted  me  a  very  happj-  old  age.  I  enjoy  good  health,  and 
am  in  the  situation  as  to  worldly  matters  for  which  Agur  so  judiciously 
prayed.  With  this  I  am  free  from  anxiety,  and  perfectly  contented.  Loving 
friends  surround  me.  The  only  child  that  has  been  spared  is  with  me,  antici- 
pating every  want  and  providing  every  comfort.  I,  indeed,  have  the  infirmi- 
ties of  old  age,  but  these  are  friendly  and  necessary  monitors,  who  kindly  ad- 
monish me  that  this  is  not  my  home, — that  I  must  be  constantly  ready  to 
depart  to  the  better  and  heavenly  country,  whither  those  of  former  genera- 
tions and  contemporaries  have  gone.  Old  age  is  not  so  gloomy  and  dreary  as 
the  young  sometimes  imagine.  It  would  be  dreary  indeed,  were  it  not  for  the 
briglit  pages  of  the  Gospel,  which  have  brouglit  to  light  life  and  immortality. 
And,  in  view  of  life,  immortal  life,  in  view  of  Heaven,  where  are  the  innumera- 
ble multitudes  of  the  redeemed  and  blessed,  where  friends  are  ready  to  greet 
us,  and  Jesus  will  welcome  us, — who  would  dread  to  put  off  this  clayey  tab- 
ernacle with  its  infirmities,  and  be  clothed  with  a  glorious,  spiritual  and  im- 
mortal body?  Infirmity  and  decay,  in  themselves,  are  unpleasant;  but  being 
the  appointment  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  Avho  always  does  that  which  is 
right  and  for  our  greatest  good,  how  can  we  feel  otherwise  than  thankful,  and 
rejoice  that  our  light  and  momentary  afflictions  are  designed  to  work  out  for 
us  an  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory." 

The  last  time  I  saw  Dr.  Abbot  was  in  August,  1856.  One  object  of  my  going 
to  New  England  was  to  pay  my  filial  respects  to  this  loved  and  honoured  friend, 
now  advanced  beyond  the  period  of  fourscore  3'^ears  and  ten.  As  I  entered  the 
door  of  his  house,  I  saw,  in  the  distance,  a  head  white  as  snow.  His  hair,  com- 
paratively thin,  was  hanging  so  low  as  to  reach  his  shoulders.  This  change  in 
his  hair  had  come  upon  him  since  my  former  visit,  many  years  before;  but  the 
forehead,  mouth,  prominent  aquiline  nose,  and  general  expression  of  his  face, 
were  very  much  the  same.  I  recognized  him  at  once,  but  left  it  for  him  to  guess 
the  name  of  his  visitor.  This  caused  some  delay,  when  he  addressed  me  in  his 
mild,  parental  way,  as  he  had  done  when  I  was  a  lad,  more  than  forty  years 
before,  and  called  me  Joseph.  Our  interview,  owing  to  certain  circumstances, 
was  not  verj'-  long,  but  it  was  mutually  interesting,  tender  and  affecting;  and 
the  more  so  from  the  full  conviction  we  both  felt  that  it  would  be  our  last.  It 
was  verj'  gratifying  to  me  to  find  that  he  still  retained  his  mental  faculties  in 
so  much  vigour, — that  he  remembered  so  many  things  and  so  accurately,  cor- 
recting a  litttie  mistake  of  mine  concerning  a  ride  to  which  I  referred  on  his 
old  black  horse — "  No,  mji-  old  black  inare,"  he  said,  and  I'ecalled  at  once  the 
time  and  the  occasion.  I  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  him  to  a  neighbour- 
ing minister,  who  was  a  friend  of  Jared  Sparks,  then  an  inmate  of  his  fivmily. 
It  was  to  inform  the  minister  that  he  had  procured  a  place  for  young  Sparks 
in  the  Academy,  at  Exeter,  N.  H.,  of  which  Dr.  Abbot's  brother-in-law  was, 
for  so  many  years,  the  distinguished  Principal.  My  next  information  concern- 
ing this  beloved  friend  and  benefactor  was  that  he  had  done  with  all  earthly 
objects  and  interests. 

I  was  too  young,  while  sitting  under  his  ministry,  to  form  any  just  appreci- 
ation of  the  character  of  his  preaching;  but  I  hazard  nothing  in  saying  that 
his  sermons  were  always  written  in  excellent  taste,  and  discovered  mucli  more 
than  ordinary  abilitj^.  During  his  residence  in  Coventry,  and  in  all  the  trj'ing 
circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  his  conduct  was  acknowledged  by  all, 
not  excepting  those  who  were  most  grieved  by  his  renunciation  of  orthodoxy, 
to  be  most  blameless  and  exemplary. 

Very  fraternally  yours, 

JOSEPH  H.  JONES. 


240  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  ABBOT  SMITH. 

West  Cambridge,  December  14,  1863. 

My  dear  Friend:  You  ask  me  to  ^ive  you  some  reminiscences  of  my  grand- 
father, during  tlie  latter  part  of  his  life.  I  hardly  know  where  to  begin  or 
end  in  describing  his  vigorous  and  Christian  old  age. 

When  he  was  nearly  seventy-live  years  old,  I  began  to  prepare  myself, 
under  his  tuition,  for  College.  I  had  read  a  large  part  of  Virgil  already,  and 
thought  that  I  knew  a  good  deal  of  Latin; — but,  after  a  little  e.xamination 
into  my  acquirements,  he  set  me  to  work  on  the  Latin  Grammar  and  Liber 
Primus.  And  so,  turning  back  to  the  very  beginning,  I  went  on  under  his 
most  thorougli  instruction,  till,  on  entering  Exeter  Academy  at  the  end  of  the 
Senior  year,  I  found  that,  in  thoroughness  of  drill,  I  was  the  equal  of  those 
■who  had  enjoyed  its  excellent  advantages  through  the  entire  three  years.  I 
have  never  studied  under  a  teacher  more  thorough  and  more  accurate  than  he. 
Indeed,  it  seems  to  me  that,  at  this  age,  wlien  most  men  are  entering  their 
second  childliood,  he  was  in  the  prime  of  intellectual  vigour.  His  correspond- 
ence from  this  period  till  he  was  ninety  years  old,  I  have  compared  with  that 
of  his  middle  age,  and  I  find  that  these  letters,  written  under  the  shadow  of 
fourscore  and  ten,  are  actually  superior  to  the  others  in  that  terseness  of  ex- 
pression, felicity  of  diction,  and  vigour  of  thought,  for  which  he  was 
remarkable. 

He  was  alwaj's  very  mucli  interested  in  the  subject  of  education,  and, 
■while  he  was  between  seventy  and  eighty,  feeling  that  our  common  schools  in 
New  Hampshire  were  not  so  good  as  they  should  be,  devised,  as  a  means  for 
their  improvement,  a  plan  for  the  establishment  of  a  Normal  School  in  our 
County.  Various  obstacles  were  overcome,  and  he  pursued  his  plan  till  he 
succeeded  in  having  Trustees  appointed,  who  were  to  go  on  and  collect  the  ne- 
cessary funds.  He  entered  into  the  work  himself  with  all  his  heart,  and  per- 
sonally visited,  and  held  meetings,  in  many  towns,  in  furtherance  of  his 
object.  Funds  were  raised,  as  he  had  proposed,  suflBcient  to  sustain  the 
school  for  three  years;  the  necessary  buildings,  I  think,  were  offered; — but, 
unfortunately,  the  whole  enterprise  was  given  up,  owing  to  the  indifference, 
if  not  secret  opposition,  of  those  who  should  have  been  its  friends. 

On  the  day  he  was  eighty-seven  years  old,  he  left  the  house  where  he  had 
lived  for  almost  thirt}'  years,  and  came  to  live  with  me  at  West  Cambridge. 
We  were  anxious  lest  the  change,  at  his  age,  might  have  a  bad  effect  upon 
him; — but  he  often  said, — <<  The  home  is  not  the  roof,  but  those  who  are 
under  it:  here  is  my  home."  And  I  think,  though  coming  thus  among 
strangers,  he  did  not  have  one  hour  of  homesickness  or  discontent. 

His  bodily  health  was  remarkably  good  —  he  always  was  accustomed  to 
take  much  exercise.  After  he  was  ninetj'-  years  old,  he  sawed  some  cords  of 
wood,  and  worked  industriously  in  the  garden,  as  had  been  his  habit  through 
life. 

Nor  did  he  in  age  give  up  the  studies  of  his  manhood.  He  kept  up  with 
the  times  in  the  literature  of  his  profession,  and  enjoyed  nothing  so  much  as 
some  new  book  on  Theology,  or  volume  of  Scrmonsu 

lie  was  much  interested  in  Norton's  volume  on  the  Internal  Evidences  of 
Christianity;  and,  one  day,  as  we  were  reading  Kane's  Arctic  Expedition 
aloud,  we  asked  him  laughinglj',  if  he  did  not  like  that  as  well  as  Norton. 
No!     Norton  was  the  most  interesting  to  him. 

During  the  last  Avinter  of  his  life  (he  was  then  ninety-three  years  old)  he 
made  it  a  point  to  read  every  day  two  chapters  of  the  New  Testament,  criti- 
cally, in  the  original  Greek,  and  often  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  this  inter- 
pretation, or  that,  of  some  diSicult  passage.     In  the  evenings  of  that  winter, 


WILLIAM    EMERSON-  241 

I  read  to  him,  from  the  original,  several  treatises  of  Cicero;  among  others,  De 
Oratore  and  De  Senectute.  I  continued  this  till  the  last  Friday  before  his 
death,  and  I  remember,  on  that  evening,  he  let  the  usual  hour  of  retiring  go 
by,  in  his  interest  in  what  was  read. 

Thus  did  he  keep  up  his  interest  in  the  studies  and  pursuits  of  his  active 
life;  and  thus  his  mind  and  heart  continued  growing  to  the  very  end. 

And  we  felt  thankful  that  it  so  continued  to  the  last — not  a  day  even  of 
failing  intellect, —  of  darkened  mind,  but  that,  when  we  must  part,  God  called 
him  from  the  full  possession  of  his  faculties,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  to 
the  u{)per  home. 

I  do  not  know  that  these  desultory  reminiscences  are  what  you  want  —  but, 
such  as  they  are,  they  are  at  your  service.  Yours  trul}", 

SAMUEL  ABBOT  SxMITII. 


WILLIAM  EMERSON. 

1792—1811. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline,  May  8,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir  :  I  was  well  acquainted  witli  the  late  Rev.  William  Emer- 
son, of  Boston,  and  think  I  have  a  tolerably  just  appreciation  of  his. 
character,  as  I  have  also  considerable  knowledge  of  his  history.  You  need 
not  be  told  that  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  comply  with  your  request  to  the- 
extent  of  my  ability. 

William  Emerson  was  the  only  son  of  the  Rev.  William  Emerson, 
of  Concord,  and  grandson  of  tlie  Rev.  Joseph  Emerson,  of  Maiden.  He 
was  born  at  Concord,  on  the  Gth  of  May,  1769.  From  early  life,  he  was 
intended  for  the  ministry;  and,  his  mother  early  marrying  the  Rev.  Ezra 
Ripley,  successor  to  his  father,  his  mind  was  easily  led  in  that  direction. 
Though  he  was  but  seven  years  old  when  he  was  deprived  of  his  father,  his 
early  years  were  passed  under  the  watchful  eye  of  parental  solicitude,  and 
he  was  preserved  from  the  follies  and  vices  which  are  but  too  common  to 
the  period  of  youth.  He  entered  Harvard  College  when  he  was  in  his 
seventeenth  year.  His  general  reputation  for  both  scholarship  and  deport- 
ment, during  his  collegiate  course,  was  good  ;  though,  in  one  instance,  he 
came  under  censure  of  government,  which  issued  in  his  being  suspended 
for  a  few  months, —  because,  as  I  have  more  than  once  heard  him  say,  he 
refused  to  testify  in  respect  to  the  mischief  of  some  of  his  fellow  students- 
He  graduated  in  1789;  and,  in  the  same  year,  delivered  an  Oration  before 
the  Society  of  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  which  procured  for  him  no  little  applause. 

Immediately  after  leaving  the  University,  he  engaged  in  teaching  a 
school  in  Roxbury,  where  he  acquitted  himself  much  to  the  satisfaction  of 
his  employers.  Having  remained  there  two  years,  he  went  to  reside  at 
Cambridge,  as  a  theological  student ;  but  he  had  been  there  but  a  few 
months  before  he  commenced  preaching ;  and,  after  having,  for  a  short 
time,  preached  as  a  candidate  at  Harvard,  he  received  a  call  to  take  the' 
Vol.  VIII.  16 


242  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

pastoral  charge  of  that  church.     This  call  he  accepted,  and  was,  accord- 
ingly, ordained,  May*23,  1792. 

I  was  myself  engaged  for  two  winters  in  teaching  a  school  in  his  parish  ; 
and,  as  I  lived  in  the  same  family  witli  him,  I  had  a  good  opportunity  of 
learning  his  feelings  in  regard  to  his  condition  ;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  he 
never  seemed  to  me  to  be  quite  at  home  in  that  place.  His  pulpit  talents 
were  considered  extraordinary  ;  but  there  was  not  in  all  respects  a  perfect 
sympathy  between  him  and  his  people.  In  1799,  he  was  invited  to  Boston 
to  preach  the  Artillery  Election  Sermon.  This  service  he  performed  to 
very  great  acceptance,  insomuch  that  some  of  the  prominent  members  of 
the  First  Church,  which  was  then  vacant  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Clarke,  began 
to  meditate  the  purpose  of  inviting  him  to  become  Dr.  Clarke's  successor. 
The  result  was  that  that  congregation  almost  immediately  extended  to  him 
a  unanimous  call.  He  had,  by  this  time  become  involved  in  some  pecuni- 
ary difficulties,  from  which  his  people  felt  unable  to  relieve  him,  so  that 
they  were  not  inclined  to  interpose  any  obstacles  to  his  removal ;  and, 
being  himself  not  unwilling  to  occupy  a  wider  field,  he  accepted  the  call, 
and  was  installed  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Boston,  October  16,  1799. 
The  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  his  friend  and  college  class- 
mate, the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Thayer,  of  Lancaster.  This  change  marked  an 
important  epoch  in  his  ministry.  He  became  a  far  more  diligent  student 
than  he  had  been  in  previous  years  ;  and  his  intellect  received  a  fresh  im- 
pulse from  the  new  circumstances  into  which  he  was  brought. 

He  was  highly  acceptable  as  a  preacher  in  the  pulpits  of  the  metropolis 
generally;  and  received  many  testimonies  of  public  favour,  in  being  cho- 
sen a  member  of  most  of  the  various  institutions  for  the  dispensation  of 
charity,  and  for  the  promotion  of  learning  and  the  arts,  which  existed  in 
Boston  at  that  day.  In  several  of  these  Societies  he  held  some  important 
office.  He  was  the  founder  and  active  promoter  of  the  Christian  Monitor 
Society,  which  issued  its  publications  periodically  for  several  years.  In 
1804,  he  undertook,  in  conjunction  with  several  of  his  friends,  a  literary 
■periodical,  entitled  the  "  Monthly  Anthology  and  Boston  Review,"  which 
continued  some  half  dozen  years,  and  put  in  requisition  some  of  the  best 
•talent  in  New  England. 

In  May,  1808,  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  hemorrliage  of  the  lungs, 
•which,  for  a  time,  threatened  the  speedy  termination  of  his  life.  He,  how- 
ever, recovered  his  health,  in  a  good  degree,  and  was  able  afterwards  to 
•perform  nearly  his  accustomed  amount  of  labour.  A  malady  of  a  differ- 
ent kind  seized  upon  him,  in  the  winter  of  1810-11.  He  had  great  finn- 
•iiess  of  purpose,  which  led  him  to  persist  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of 
l»is  office,  against  the  remonstrances  of  friends,  and  even  physicians,  after 
disease  had  evidently  made  the  most  serious  inroads  upon  his  constitution. 
The  last  time  he  ever  preached  was  at  the  Thursday  Lecture,  on  the  14th 
of  March,  on  Abraham's  offering  up  his  son  Isaac,  I  think  it  was  the  most 
interesting  and  impressive  discourse  that  I  ever  heard  from  him. 

Shortly  after  that,  it  was  proposed  that  he  should  try  the  effect  of  a  voyage, 
•and  of  some  milder  climate.  With  a  view  to  test  his  ability  to  endure  the 
contemplated  voyage,  he  made  a  journey  to  Portland  ;  but  returned  in  so 
feeble  a  state  as  to  forbid  the  idea  of  Icavine  home  again.     He  soon  betook 


WILLIAM   EMERSON.  243 

himself  to  Lis  chamber,  where  he  rapidly  declined,  till  Sunday,  the  12th 
of  May,  1811,  when  he  calmly  fell  asleep.  His  Funeral  took  place  on  the 
16th,  and  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  J.  S. 
Buckiniiister,  from  Psalm  xii,l. 

Ii)  his  personal  appearance,  Mr.  Emerson  was  much  more  than  ordina- 
rily attractive.  He  had  a  melodious  voice,  his  utterance  was  distinct,  and 
his  whole  manner  in  the  pulpit  agreeable.  In  his  devotional  exercises  he 
was  fluent  and  appropriate,  and  his  language  sometimes  seemed  premedi- 
tated. His  public  discourses  had  the  appearance  of  considerable  elabora- 
tion, but  they  were  never  elaborated  into  obscurity.  He  could  not  endure 
that  careless  and  desultory  manner  of  writing  of  which  the  pulpit  furnishes 
but  too  many  specimens. 

Though  Mr.  Emerson  valued  highly  the  good  opinion  of  his  fellow  men, 
he  was  incapable  of  stooping  to  any  thing  disingenuous  or  dishonourable,  in 
order  to  obtain  it.  And  I  never  saw  any  thing  in  him  that  indicated  a  wish 
to  detract  from  the  well  earned  reputation  of  his  brethren.  He  was  a 
faithful  and  generous  friend  and  knew  how  to  forgive  an  enemy. 

In  Ills  theological  views,  perhaps  he  went  farther  on  the  liberal  side  than 
most  of  his  brethren  with  whom  he  was  associated.  He  was,  however, 
perfectly  tolerant  towards  those  who  difi'ered  from  him  most  widely ;  and  I 
observed,  sometimes,  that  he  showed  them  very  marked  attention.  I  know 
not  to  what  extent  he  preached  his  peculiar  views  :  but  I  am  not  aware 
that  he  has  very  definitely  expressed  thenj  in  any  of  his  publications. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  married  to  a  Miss  Ilaskins,  of  Boston,  who  still  sur- 
vives at  an  advanced  age.  Tliey  had  eight  children,  six  of  whom  sur- 
vived him.  One  of  them,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College  in  1821,  was  for  several  years  Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Boston, 
but  has  now  retired  from  the  ministry  and  is  a  resident  of  Concord. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Emerson's  acknowleged  publications : — 

A  Sermon  preached  at  Harvard  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1794.  A  Ser- 
mon at  the  Artillery  Election,  Boston,  1799.  A  Sermon  before  the  Rox- 
bury  Charitable  Society,  1800.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Robinson 
Smiley,  at  Springfield,  Vt.,  1801.  An  Oration  pronounced  at  Boston,  on 
the  Fourth  of  July,  1802.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  Peter 
Thatcher,  D.  D.,  1802.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Thomas  Bedee,* 
1803.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Madam  Bowdoin,  1803.  A  Sermon 
before  the  Boston  Female  Asylum,  1805.  A  Sermon  on  tlie  Death  of 
Charles  Austin,  1806.  A  Discourse  before  the  Humane  Society,  1807. 
The  First,  Second.  Third  and  Seventh  Discourses  in  the  Fourth  Number 
of  the  Cliristian  Monitor,  with  Prayers  annexed  to  each  Discourse.  A 
selection  of  Psalms  and  Hymns,  embracing  all  the  Varieties  of  Subject' 
and  Metre  suitable  for  Private  Devotion  and  the  Worship  of  the  Churches, 

*  Thomas  Bedee  was  a  native  of  Sandwich,  N.  H. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1798;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Wilton,  N.  H.,  March  2,  1803; 
was  dismissed  January  15,  1829;  and  died  in  1848.  He  published  an  Oration  delivered  at 
lloxbury,  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1799;  a  Sermon  delivered  before  a  Lodge  of  Freemasons,  at 
Lexington,  Mass.,  1803  :  a  Sermon  delivered  on  occasion  of  a  Masonic  Celebration,  at  Wash- 
ington, N.  H.,  1803;  the  New  Hampshire  Election  Sermon,  1811;  a  Masonic  Discourse  deliv- 
ered at  Dublin,  N.  H.,  1815;  Four  Sermons,  1821. 


244  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

12mo,  1808.    A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Samuel  Clark,*  1810.     His- 
tory of  the  First  Church  in  Boston  (posthumous.) 

I  am  with  sincere  regard,  truly  yours, 

JOHN  PIERCE. 

FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  LOWELL,  D.  D. 

Elmwood,  (Cambridge,)  November  8,  1859. 

My  dear  Friend:  You  ask  me  to  tell  you  about  Mr.  Emerson,  minister  of 
the  First  Church,  Boston;  or,  as  he  preferred  saying-,  «'  First  Church,"  with- 
out the  article.  If  my  memory  serves  me,  Mr.  Buckminster  preached  and 
published  a  discourse  in  commemoration  of  him.  And  what  do  you  want 
more,  you  unreasonable  man.'*     "  Who  can  come  after  the  King?" 

Mr.  Emerson  was  a  handsome  man,  rather  tall,  with  a  fiiir  complexion,  his 
cheeks  slightly  tinted,  his  motions  easy,  graceful  and  gentlemanlike,  his  man- 
ners bland  and  pleasant.  He  was  an  lionest  man,  and  expressed  himself 
decidedly  and  emphatically,  hut  never  bluntly  or  vulgarly.  He  had  the  organ 
of  order  very  fully  developed  —  he  was  one  of  those  who  have  "  a  place  for 
every  thing,  and  every  thing  in  its  place."  In  that  respect,  he  differed  from 
that  admirable  man,  who  was  his  classmate  and  friend,  and  my  friend,  and 
one  whom  any  one  might  feel  proud  to  call  his  friend,  John  Thornton  Kirk- 
land,  who  never  had  any  thing  in  order,  but  always  found  what  was  wanted; 
■whose  manuscript  sermons  in  the  pulpit  were  in  separate  pieces,  but  he  always 
found  the  right  piece,  and  that  was  better  than  almost  any  of  his  brethren 
could  have  found  in  what  they  had  written  with  twice  the  labour. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  a  man  of  good  sense.  His  conversation  was  edifying  and 
useful;  never  foolish  or  undignified. 

In  his  theological  opinions,  he  was,  to  say  the  least,  far  from  having  any 
sympathy  with  Calvinism.  I  have  not  supposed  that  he  was,  like  Dr.  Free- 
man, a  Humanitarian,  though  he  may  have  been  so.  He  was  always  an 
acceptable  preacher,  and  his  delivery  was  distinct  and  correct,  and  was  evi- 
dently the  result  of  much  care  and  discipline. 

I  first  knew  Mr.  Emerson  as  master  of  the  Grammar  School  in  Roxbury, 
where  my  father  then  lived,  and  I  early  went  to  school.  I  used  sometimes, 
when  we  were  brother  ministers  in  Boston,  playfully  to  remind  him  that  he 
was  the  only  master  who  ever  gave  me  a  blow  on  my  back  with  a  cow-skin. 
It  was  only  one  blow,  and  that,  I  suspect,  a  gentle  one.  But  I  have  a  vivid 
recollection  of  the  bench  before  his  desk,  over  which  I  leaned  to  take  it,  and 
almost  fancy  I  feel  it  now.  But,  though  it  may  have  left  its  smart  upon  my 
back,  it  left  no  smart  upon  my  heart.  I  loved  him  while  he  lived,  and  love 
his  memory  now.  Your  loving  friend, 

CHARLES  LOWELL. 

FROM  MR.  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

Concord,  5  October,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  fear  you  have  the  worst  thoughts  of  me  as  far  as  the  vir- 
tues of  a  good  correspondent  go.  I  ought  to  have  warned  you  at  first  that  I 
am  a  reprobate  in  that  matter.  Yet,  I  did,  on  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  in 
the  summer,  make,  with  my  mother,  some  investigation  into  the  history  of 
my  father's  preaching,  that  he  might  make  his  own  answer,  as  you  suggested, 
to  your  inquiry  concerning   his  opinions.     But   I  did   not  find,  in  any  manu- 

*  Samuel  Clauk  was  a  native  of  Brookline,  Mass.,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1805;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Burlington,  Vt.,  April  19,  1810;  and 
died  in  1827. 


WILLIAM    EMERSON.  245 

script  or  printed  sermons  that  I  looked  at,  any  very  explicit  statement  of 
opinion  on  the  question  between  Calvinists  and  Socinians.  He  inclines  obvi- 
ously to  what  is  etbical  and  universal  in  Christianit}';  very  little  to  the  per- 
sonal and  historical.  Indeed  what  I  found  nearest  approaching  what  would 
be  called  his  creed,  is  in  a  piinted  Sei'inon  "  at  tlie  Ordination  of  Mr.  Bedee, 
of  WilLon,  N.  H."  I  think  I  observe  in  his  writings,  as  in  the  writings  of 
Unitaiians  down  to  a  recent  date,  a  studied  reserve  on  the  subject  of  the 
nature  and  offices  of  Jesus.  They  had  not  made  up  their  own  minds  on  it. 
It  was  a  mystery  to  them,  and  they  let  it  leuiain  so. 

Yours  respectfully, 

11.  \V.  EMERSON. 

The  following  paragraphs  are  from  the  Sermon  above  referred  to  : — 

"  Jesus  Cliiist  tauglit  the  doctrine  of  liiunan  depravity.  Wc  learn,  in  his  religion, 
that  (lod  lias  been  pleased  to  make  niankiiid  <jf  a  eompoiiiid  nature;  of  a  nature  partly 
animal,  and  piirtly  spiritual;  of  a  nnlmv  n'sciiihiiuir  in  a  (legie«  their  Divine  Creator, 
and  in  a  degi-ee  the  beasts  which  perish.  Between  these  two  constituent  parts  of  the 
human  nature,  there  is  a  constant  variance.  The  tlesh  lustetli  against  the  Spirit,  and 
the  Spirit  against  the  tlesh,  and  tliese  are  ccjntrary  the  one  to  the  other.  Of  this  fact 
the  retlccting  heathens  were  sensible,  though  they  could  not  account  for  it.  The  frail 
Arasjjes,  having  lalleii  a  prey  to  temptation,  acknou  ledges  to  Cyrus  that  he  possessed 
two  souls.  '  For  had  I  one  soul  oidy,'  he  says,  '  it  is  utterly  iin])0ssible,  that  I  should 
be.  as  1  tiud  myself,  both  virtuous  and  vicious;  that  I  should  love  at  once  honourable 
and  dishonourable  actions;  asid  that  1  should  be  willing  and  unwilling,  at  the  same 
moment,  to  do  the  same  ihiiigs.  It  is,  tlierefore,  plain  that  1  have  two  souls:  when 
the  good  soul  is  in  power,  1  am  the  servant  of  virtue ;  when  the  bad  soul  predominates, 
I  am  the  slave  ^>t'  vicd.'  St.  Paid  uses  similar  language,  wlien  personating  a  character 
unintiuenced  by  Chii-tian  mi>tives.  '  Th.it  which  1  do,  I  allow  not,  for  what  I  would, 
that  do  1  not;  but  what  i  hate,  that  do  1.  For  in  me,  that  is,  in  my  flesh,'  in  my 
animal  nature,  *  there  dwelletb  no  good  thing;  for  to  will  is  present  with  me;  but  to 
I>erf()rni  thai  which  is  good  J  lind  not.  For  1  delight  in  the  law  of  God,  after  the 
inward  man,'  as  it  respects  my  spiritual  nature.  But  I  see  another  law  in  my  mem- 
bers, warring  against  the  law  of  my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivitj'  to  tlie  law 
of  sin,  which  is  in  my  members.  So  then  with  my  mind,'  tiie  superior  part  of  my- 
self, '  I  serve  the  law  of  God ;  but  with  the  flesh,'  the  inferior  part  of  myself,  '  the  law 
of  sin.' 

'*  As  are  these  principles,  so  their  eflfects  are  diametrically  opposite.  Now  the  works 
of  the  flesh  are  manliest,  which  are  adultery,  Ibrnieation,  uncU'anness,  lasciviousness, 
idolatry,  witchcral't.  hatred,  variance,  eiuulatious,  stiifes,  seditions,  heresies,  envyiiigs, 
murders,  drunkenness,  revilings  and  such  like.  On  the  contrary,  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit  are  goodness,  righteousness,  truth,  love  long-sutiering,  gentleness,  faith,  meek- 
ness, anil  temperance. 

"  At  the  time  of  Christ's  advent,  almost  the  whole  world,  Jews  a.o  well  as  Gentiles, 
were  ander  the  dominion  of  their  fleslily  lusts,  and  thus  were  alienated  from  the  spiritual 
life.  With  reference  also  to  the  times  both  before  and  after  our  Saviour,  there  is  a 
sense  in  which  all  mankind  Tnay  be  said  to  have  corrupted  their  way  before  God,  by 
imbibing  hurtful  ])'inciples,  following  sinful  customs,  and  obeying  the  dictates  of  sen- 
sual afipetite.  Different  degrees  of  human  depravity  are  discernible  at  different 
epochs  of  time;  but  in  every  age  tlie  kingdom  of  Satan,  which  is  the  Slavery  of  man 
to  sense  and  ])assion,  has  existed  in  our  world.  What  period  or  countiy  was  ever  free 
from  the  sin  of  serving  the  creature  to  the  neglect  of  the  Creat(n'  ?  What  community 
ever  existed,  which  did  not  contain  ignorant  men,  wlio  might  be  deluded,  and  artful 
men  to  delude  them;  men  sufficiently  impudent  to  offer  bribes,  and  men  venal  enough 
to  take  them;  men  brutal  enough  to  make  a  god  of  sensuality,  and  others  diabolical 
enough  to  rejoice  in  the  practice  of  such  voluptuousness  ?  \\'here  is  the  church,  which 
never  embraced  in  its  bosom  some  ambitious  Diotreplies,  some  careless  Archippus,  or 
a  scauilalous  member?  In  what  family  have  parents  been  uniformly  just,  and  child- 
ren uniformly  obedient;  masters  always  kind,  and  servants  always  faithful?  Nay, 
where  is  the  heart,  which  has  not  sometimes  cherishi.'d  within  itself  the  seeds  of  every 
vice  which  deforms  and  disgraces  the  human  character  ? 

"  This  doctrine  of  human  depravity  then,  whose  truth  is  sanctioned  by  universal 
observation  and  experience,  is  a  doctrine  of  the  Christian  revelation,  and  he  who 
preaches  it.  i)reaches  .Jesus  Christ  and  llini  crucifled. 

"  .Jesus  Christ  taught  the  restoration  of  mankind  to  virtue  and  liappiness  through 
his  instrumentality.     For  this  [)urpose  the  son  of  God  was  manifested,  that  lie  miglit 


246  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

destroy  the  works  of  the  devil.  By  his  instructions  lie  dispels  the  errors -whicli  over- 
shaded  the  human  mind;  by  his  precepts  and  exliortations  He  imparts  new  energy  to 
the  commands  of  reason,  assisting  it  to  regain  its  lost  dominion  over  animal  nature; 
and  by  his  sufferings  and  death,  He  proves  the  inlierent  and  unchangeable  mercy  of 
God,  moves  sinful  men  to  penitence  and  reformation,  and  thence  exi)iates  tlieir  guilt, 
and  procures  them  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  a  title  to  celestial  felicity.  These  are  among 
the  gracious  words  which  fell  from  his  lips.  '  The  Son  of  man  is  come  to  save  that 
which  was  lost.'  '  God  so  loved  the  world  tjiat  He  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  on  Him  should  not  perish  but  have  everlasting  life.'  '  This  is  my 
blood,  which  was  shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins.'  Those  who  were  acquainted 
with  the  character  of  Christ,  and  divinely  authorized  to  publish  his  doctrine,  call  Him 
the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world;  and  assert  that.  Him 
hatii  God  exalted  with  iiis  right  hand  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour  to  give  repentance 
and  remission  of  sins.  He,  therefore,  who  preaches  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  Mediation, 
preaches  Jesus  Ciirist,  and  Him  crucified. 

"  Jesus  Christ  taught  the  necessity  of  faith,  repentance,  and  holiness,  in  order  to 
receive  and  enjoy  the  blessings  of  the  Gospel  Never  did  a  religion  so  much  insist  on 
the  importance  of  virtue  as  the  religion  of  Christ.  It  subordinates  every  rite  and 
every  name  to  the  attainment  of  holiness.  What  is  circumcision  or  uiicircumcision, 
what  are  fasts  or  feasts,  but  beggarly  elements,  compared  wiih  keeping  the  command- 
ments of  Christ?  Who  is  Paul,  who  is  Apollos,  and  who  is  Cephas,  but  instruments 
of  sanctifying  those  fur  whom  Clirist  died?  The  enlightened  preaclier  therefore  applies 
all  the  doctrine 3  and  ordinances  of  the  Gospel  to  excite  the  faith,  repentance  and  holi- 
ness of  his  hearers;  and,  in  so  doing,  he  evidently  preaches  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified. 

"  Jesus  Christ  assured  mankind  of  their  resurrection  from  the  dead.  To  confirm 
this  momentous  truth,  He  voluntarily  laid  down  his  life,  took  it  again,  and  broke  the 
prison  of  the  grave,  thence  becoming  ihe  first  fruits  of  them  that  slept.  This  is  em- 
phatically the  doctrine  of  a  crucitied  Jesus. 

"  Tlie  same  sacred  Teacher  piomulged  the  doctrine  of  a  general  judgment  at  the  bar 
of  God  in  these  awful  words: — '  When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  all 
the  holy  angels  with  Him,  then  shall  He  sit  upon  the  tlirone  of  his  glory;  and  before 
Him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations;  and  He  shall  separate  them  one  from  another,  as  a 
shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats.'  His  apostles  foretell  the  same  event.  It 
is  their  general  voice  that  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Chri.st,  that 
every  one  may  receive  the  deeds  done  in  his  body,  according  to  that  he  hath  done, 
whether  it  be  good  or  bad.  And,  finally,  it  is  a  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  that  vicious 
and  incorrigible  men  will  then  go  into  a  state  of  condemnation  and  misery,  and  the 
righteous  into  a  state  of  glorification  and  bliss.  In  preaching,  therefore,  these  doc- 
trines, a  minister  preaches  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified;  because  they  were  the 
doctrines  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  because  He  suffered  himself  to  be  crucified,  as  an  ever- 
lasting proof  that  He  received  them  from  God." 


NATHANIEL  THAYER,  D.D.* 

1792—1840. 

Nathaniel  Thayer  was  born  in  Hampton,  N.  H.,  July  11,  1769. 
His  father  was  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Thayer,  who  was  a  native  of  Boston  ; 
was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1753,  was  settled  as  Pastor  of  the 
Church  in  Hampton  in  1766,  and  died  in  1792,  at  the  age  of  fifty-eight. 
His  mother,  a  lady  of  remarkable  energy  of  character,  was  a  daughter  of 
the  Piev.  John  Cotton,  of  Newton,  and  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  cele- 
brated John  Cotton,  the  first  minister  of  Boston.  It  is  remarkable  that 
he  belonged  to  a  family  on  the  mother's  side,  in  which  tlfere  had  been  an 
uninterrupted  succession  of  clergymen  for  nearly  two  hundred  and  thirty 
years,  and  among  them  some  of  the  greatest  lights  of  the  New  England 
pulpit. 

»  Dr.  IlilPs  Fun.  Serin.— Ms.  from  Rev.  C.  T.  Thayor. 


NATHANIEL    THAYER.  247 

His  early  years  were  passed  under  the  parental  roof,  and  were  marked' 
by  an  unusual  freedom  from  youthful  follies,  by  great  propriety  of  deport- 
ment, and  a  thirst  for  useful  knowledge.  At  a  suitable  age,  he  was  sent  to 
Phillips  Academy,  Exeter,  and  belonged  to  the  first  class  of  pupils  ever 
ofiered  by  that  institution  to  Harvard  College.  He  carried  with  him  to 
College  an  unspotted  moral  character,  and  preserved  it  during  his  residence 
there.  He  graduated  with  distinguished  honour,  in  1789,  in  the  same 
class  with  President  Kirkland. 

Immediately  after  he  had  completed  his  college  course,  he  took  charge 
of  the  Grammar  School  in  Medford,  and,  at  the  same  time,  commenced 
the  study  of  Theology,  under  the  direction  of  the  l\ev.  Dr.  Osgood,  the 
minister  of  the  parish  within  which  he  resided.  Having  remained  at  Med- 
ford a  year,  he  returned  to  Cambridge,  and  continued  his  theological 
Btudies,  under  the  Kev.  Dr.  Tappan,  tlien  Professor  of  Divinity  in  the 
College.  He  held  the  office  of  Tutor  in  College  for  about  one  yean 
Soon  after  being  licensed  to  preach,  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  a  year  at 
Wilkesbarre,  Pa.,  supplying  the  congregation  there,  during  which  time  he 
was  an  inmate  of  the  family  of  the  Hon.  Timothy  Pickering,  Secretary  of 
War.  This  was  a  period  of  great  interest  to  him,  and  he  retained  a  vivid 
and  grateful  recollection  of  the  acquaintances  which  he  then  formed,  and 
of  many  events  which  then  occurred,  till  the  close  of  life. 

On  his  return  to  Massachusetts,  he  preached,  for  a  short  time,  to  the 
New  South  Churcli,  Boston,  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  congrega- 
tion were  strongly  in  favour  of  extending  to  him  a  call.  He  preached 
also,  for  a  while,  at  Dorchester,  but  declined  to  be  considered  a  candi- 
date. In  the  summer  of  1793,  he  commenced  preaching  to  the  Church 
and  Society  in  Lancaster,  then  under  the  pastoral  care  of  the  llev. 
Timothy  Harrington.  After  the  usual  term  of  probation,  he  received  a 
unanimous  call  to  settle  as  Colleague-pastor,  and  was  ordained  and  installed 
on  the  9th  of  October  following,  the  sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached 
by  his  theological  instructor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Osgood.  His  venerable  col- 
league, at  the  time,  was  languishing  under  the  power  of  disease,  in  con- 
nection with  the  infirmities  incident  to  old  age.  After  the  public  services 
were  over,  as  his  youthful  associate  was  passing  by  with  his  parishioners 
and  friends,  the  old  man  was  borne  to  the  gate  of  his  dwelling,  and  placed 
upon  his  head  his  trembling  hand,  invoking  upon  him  the  special  blessing 
of  Heaven.  Mr.  Harrington  lived  about  two  years  after  this,  and,  at  his 
death,  Mr.  Thayer  succeeded  to  the  sole  charge  of  the  flock. 

Here  he  continued,  greatly  esteemed  by  his  congregation,  and  respected 
by  the  community  at  large,  till  the  close  of  life.  He  was  universally 
regarded  as  a  man  of  great  tact  and  sagacity  ;  and  it  was  probably  on  this 
account  that  his  services  were  put  in  requisition  for  the  settlement  of  eccle- 
siastical difficulties,  more  frequently  than  those  of  almost  any  other  maa 
of  his  day.  In  the  course  of  his  ministry,  he  was  a  member  of  no  lesf 
than  one  hundred  and  fifty  ecclesiastical  councils ;  and  the  results  of  thesa 
councils  were  frequently  drawn  up  by  himself. 

He  preached  the  Artillery  Election  Sermon  in  1798,  and  the  Annual  Ser- 
mon before  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  in  1823.  He  was  honouredi 
with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College  in  1817. 


248  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

When  Lafayette  made  liis  tour  through  this  country,  in  1825,  Dr. 
Thayer  was  requested  to  address  him  in  behalf  of  the  inhabitants  of  Lan- 
caster. He  performed  the  service  with  great  appropriateness,  and  in  ex- 
cellent taste,  and  concluded  his  address  with  these  words  —  "  It  is  especi- 
ally our  prayer  that  in  that  day  in  which  the  acclamations  and  applauses 
of  dying  men  shall  cease  to  reach  or  affect  you,  you  may  receive  from  the 
Judge  of  character,  and  Dispenser  of  imperishable  honours,  as  the  reward 
of  philanthropy  and  incorruptible  integrity,  a  crown  of  life  which  will 
never  fade."  The  General  is  said  to  have  exhibited  no  inconsiderable 
emotion,  when  these  words  were  uttered,  and,  some  years  after  his  return 
to  France,  he  referred  to  the  occasion  and  the  Address  with  great  interest. 

Dr.  Thayer's  vigour  of  body  and  mind  continued,  in  an  unusual  degree, 
to  old  age.  Though  with  a  single  exception,  he  was  the  oldest  Congrega- 
tional clergyman  in  the  State,  having  the  sole  charge  of  a  parish,  he  never 
intermitted  any  of  his  accustomed  labours  to  the  last.  In  the  early  part 
of  June.  1840,  being  somewhat  debilitated  by  the  labours  of  the  preced- 
ing spring,  he  set  out  to  travel  with  a  view  to  recruit  his  energies.  He 
travelled  Westward,  and  expressed  great  gratification  with  every  thing  that 
he  saw  and  experienced  on  his  journey.  After  passing  a  week  at  Saratoga 
Springs,  he  pursued  his  course  towards  Niagara  Falls,  and  reached  Rochester 
on  the  22d  of  the  month.  In  the  evening  he  retired  at  his  usual  hour, 
and  in  his  usual  health,  but,  at  two  o'clock,  the  next  morning,  June  23d, 
he  was  a  corpse.  His  daughter,  who  was  his  travelling  companion,  was  at 
his  bedside  just  in  time  to  receive  his  dying  request.  The  event,  when  it 
came  to  be  known,  produced  no  small  sensation  in  the  town.  Every  atten- 
tion was  proffered  to  the  bereaved  daughter,  and  Dr.  Whitehouse,  the 
Episcopal  clergyman,  offered  to  open  his  church  for  Funeral  solemnities. 
His  remains  were  carried  back  to  Lancaster,  and  buried  on  the  29th,  in 
the  midst  of  his  people.  The  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev. 
Alonzo  Hill,  of  Worcester,  and  was  published. 

He  was  married,  October  22,  1795,  to  Sarah,  daughter  of  the  Hon. 
Christopher  Toppan,  of  his  native  village.  They  had  eight  children,  five 
of  whom,  with  their  mother,  survived  their  father.  One  of  them,  Chris- 
topher Toppan,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1824,  and  succeeded 
Dr.  Abbot  as  Pastor  of  the  Unitarian  Society  in  Beverly. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Thayer's  publications : — 

A  Sermon  on  the  Annual  Fast,  1795.  A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  his 
Colleague,  Rev.  Timothy  Harrington,  1795.  A  Discourse  before  a  Lodge 
of  Freemasons,  1797.  An  Artillery  Election  Sermon,  1798.  A  Sermon 
at  the  Ordination  of  Elihu  Whitcomb,*  1799.  A  Sermon  at  the  Installa- 
tion of  the  Rev.  William  Emerson,  Boston,  1799.  A  Sermon  at  the  Or- 
dination of  John  Sabin,  at  Fitzwilliam,  N.  H.,  1805.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination    of    Samuel    Willard.f    Deerfield,    1807.     A    Sermon    on    the 

•  Eltitu  Wiiitcomb  was  a  native  of  Boston;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1793; 
vras  ordained  at  Saco,  Me.,  July  3,  1799:  was  dismissed  in  October,  1810;  and  died  March 
17,  1825. 

t  Samuel  AVillard,  a  son  of  William  and  Catharine  (Wilde)  Willard,  was  born  at  Peters- 
ham, Mass.,  April  18,  1776.  He  was  brought  up  on  his  father's  farm,  and  did  not  com- 
mence his  preparation  for  College  till  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age;  and  the  reason  of  his 
goingto  College  at  all  was  that,  about  that  time,  he  received  an  injury  in  his  back,  which 
•disabk'd  him,  in  a  great  degree,  for  agricultural  labour.     He  entered  Harvard  College  in 


NATHANIEL    THAYER.  249 

National  Fast,  1812.  A  Sermon  at  the  Interment  of  the  Rev.  Francis 
Gardner,*  Leominster,  1814.  A  Sermon  on  Leavinpf  the  Old  Cliurch  at 
Lancaster,  1816.  A  Sermon  on  Entering  the  New  Church  at  Lancaster, 
1817.  A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  Henry  Bronifield,  Esq.,  of  Harvard, 
1820.  The  Massachusetts  Election  Sermon,  1823.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Installation  of  the  Rev.  Winthrop  Bailey,  at  Greenfield,  1825.  A  Sermon 
on  Revivals  of  Religion,  published  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  1827.  A  Ser- 
mon at  tlie  Dedication  of  the  New  Church  in  Stow,  1827,  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  William  H.  White,!  at  Littleton,  1828.  A  Discourse  de- 
livered  at   Townsend,   1828.      A   Discourse   at    the    Ordination   of  A.   D. 

1799,  and  graduated  in  1803,  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven, —  the  oldest  in  his  class.  In  June 
following,  he  went  to  Exeter,  as  an  assistant  to  Dr.  Abbot  in  the  Academy,  and  continued 
there  nearly  a  year  and  a  half;  during  which  time  his  attention  was  directed  somewhat  to 
Theology,  but  chiefly  to  the  classics,  lie  was  then  placed  on  a  foundation,  in  connection 
with  the  Academy,  for  the  aid  of  theological  students;  and  prosecuted  his  studies,  for  a  few 
■weeks,  partly  under  Dr.  Buckminster,  of  Portsmouth,  and  partly  under  Dr.  Appleton,  of 
Hampton.  He  was  now  invited  to  a  Tutorship  in  Bowdoin  College  —  he  accepted  it,  and 
entered  upon  its  duties  in  October,  1804.  Here  he  remained  for  a  year,  meanwhile  carrying 
forward  his  theological  studies  under  Dr.  McKeen,  President  of  the  College.  He  returned  to 
Cambridge  in  September,  1805,  and,  after  continuing  his  studies  there  about  two  months, 
was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Cambridge  Associati(m.  He  remained  at  Cambridge  till  the 
latter  part  of  the  year  1806,  preaching  as  opportunity  offered,  and  then  took  up  his  residencj 
in  Andover,  making  that  his  head-quarters  till  Marcli,  1807,  when  he  was  applied  to,  to  visit; 
Deerfield.  He  j-ielded  to  the  request;  and,  after  preaching  there  several  habbaths,  received 
a  nearly  unanimous  call,  which,  in  due  time,  he  accepted.  The  Council  met  for  his  Ordina- 
tion on  the  10th  of  August;  but  the  majority,  not  being  satisfied  with  his  religious  views, 
declined  to  proceed  with  the  Ordination.  Another  Council  was  called,  however,  and  the  Ordi- 
nation actually  took  place  on  the  23d  of  September  following.  A  considerable  number  of  the 
members  of  the  church  withdrew,  and  connected  themselves  with  other  churches  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. In  1813,  Mr.  Willard  was  invited  to  assist  at  tlie  Ordination  of  Mr.  Olds  at  Green- 
field;  but  several  of  the  ministers  refused  to  be  thus  associated  with  him,  and  therefore  the 
services  did  not,  at  that  time,  proceed.  This  led  to  the  publication  of  several  pamphlets  on 
both  sides,  involving  not  only  the  Greenfield  case,  but  the  previous  one  at  Deerfielil,  of  which 
Mr.  Willard  bad  been  the  more  immediate  subject.  About  the  close  of  1818,  his  sight  sud- 
denly failed  him,  so  that,  from  that  time,  he  never  attempted  to  read  a  sermon  in  the  puljiit; 
though  he  continued  to  preach,  without  writing,  till  the  twenty-second  anniversary  of  his 
Ordination,  which  occurred  in  1829,  when  he  resigned  his  pastoral  charge.  He  was  chosen  a 
member  of  the  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences  about  1815;  and  was  honoured  with  the  degree 
of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  from  Harvard  College,  in  1826.  After  resigning  his  charge,  he  re- 
moved with  his  family  to  Hingham,  where  he  was  connected  with  his  son-in-law,  for  about 
three  years,  in  conducting  a  school.  In  the  spring  of  1535,  he  removed  from  Hingham  to 
Concord,  where  he  remained  a  year,  and  in  March,  1836,  returned  to  Deerfield,  and  there 
spent  the  remainder  of  his  life.  His  general  health,  during  the  greater  part  of  this  time, 
was  good,  and  he  rarelj'  declined  preaching,  when  called  upon.  He  died  on  the  8th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1859.  He  was  married  on  the  30th  of  May,  1808,  to  Susan,  daughter  of  Dr.  .Joshua 
Barker,  of  Hingham.  They  had  three  children, —  one  son  and  two  daughters.  The  son 
(Samuel)  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1835.  The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  AVillard's 
publications  : — An  Oration  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  at  Brunswick,  Me.,  1805.  A  Sermon  at 
the  Opening  of  the  Northampton  Bridge,  1808.  A  Sermon  at  a  Musical  Lecture,  Greenfield, 
1811.  A  Small  Spelling  Book,  1814.  A  Musical  Lecture  on  Health,  1815.  A  Sermon  at 
the  Dedication  of  the  New  Church,  Brattleboro',  Yt.,  1816.  Rudiments  of  English  Gram- 
mar, 1817.  A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  Royal  Smith,  at  Rowe,  1820.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  nf  Luther  Hamilton,  Taunton,  1821.  A  Yolume  of  Original  Hymns,  1823.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  New  Church  in  Deerfield,  1S24.  The  Charge  to  the  Rev. 
AVinthrop  Bailey,  Deerfield,  1825.  Index  to  the  Bible  with  Juvenile  Hymns,  1826.  Frank- 
lin Primer  —  a  School-book,  1826.  Improved  Reader,  1827."  General  Class  Book,  1828. 
Essays  on  Philosophy  of  Instruction,  18:^9.  Yaledictorj'  Sermon  at  Deerfield,  1829.  A  Col- 
lection of  Hymns,  1830.  A  Treatise  on  Rhetoric  and  Elocution,  1830.  Popuhir  Reader, 
1833.  Introduction  to  the  Latin  Language,  1835.  Memorial  of  the  Rev.  Daniel  B.  Park- 
hurst,  1842.  The  Grand  Issue  —  a  Pamphlet  of  Slavery,  1851.  Besides  the  above,  are  three 
controversial  pamphlets,  in  connection  with  the  ecclesiastical  troubles  already  referred  to. 

*  Francis  Gardner  was  a  native  of  Stow,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1755;  was  ordained  at  Leominster,  December  f  2,  1762;  and  died  June  2,  1814,  aged  seventy- 
eight. 

t  Willi A>[  Hunt  White  was  born  in  Lancaster,  Mass.,  February  4,  1798;  was  graduated 
at  Brown  University  in  1824;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Littleton, 
Mass.,  January  2,  1828;  and  died  in  1853. 


250  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Jones,  at  Hubbardston,  1828.  A  Thanksgiving  Discourse,  1828.  A 
Discourse  at  tlie  Ordination  of  liis  Son,  C  T.  Tliajer,  at  Beverly,  1830. 
An  Address  at  the  Berry  Street  Conference,  1831. 

I  had  myself  an  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Thayer,  which  commenced  in 
the  year  1811,  and  was  continued  till  the  close  of  his  life.  I  saw  him  first 
when  he  was  a  member  of  the  Second  Council  at  Coventry,  in  the  case  of 
the  llev,  Abiel  Abbot.  He  was  Scribe  of  the  Council,  and  a  very  active 
and  influential  member.  I  remember  his  reading  the  result  with  a  voice 
of  great  compass  and  mellowness,  with  a  somewhat  uniform  tone  and  a  re- 
markably distinct  enunciation.  I  always  found  him  gentlemanly,  commu- 
nicative, and,  at  his  own  house,  extremely  hospitable.  He  left  the  im- 
pression upon  me  that  he  was  an  uncommonly  shrewd  observer  and  judge 
of  humau  character,  and  withal  a  man  of  great  natural  benevolence. 

FROM  THE  EEV.  SAMUEL  AVILLARD,  D.  D. 

Deerfield,  September  17,  1851. 

Dear  Sir:  Dr.  Thayer  was,  for  many  years,  one  of  my  intimate  friends, 
and  my  impressions  of  him  are  so  distinct  that  it  costs  me  no  trouble  to  com- 
municate them.  I  knew  him  tirst,  I  think,  in  the  year  1797,  wlien  I  went  to 
Lancaster,  where  my  mother's  funiil}'  resided,  and  was  examined  by  him  in 
respect  to  my  qualilications  to  teach  a  district  school.  lie  subsequently  super- 
intended my  studies  for  admission  to  College;  and,  from  that  time  to  the  close 
of  liis  life,  I  was  on  terms  of  great  intimacy  with  liim,  and  we  not  unfre- 
quently  exchanged  visits. 

Dr.  Thayer  was  in  stature  rather  below  the  medium  height,  and,  in  his  ear- 
lier years,  was  of  a  spare  habit,  though  he  accuniuhited  Hesh  with  advancing 
life.  He  had  an  open,  generous  face,  which  seemed  at  once  to  invite  confi- 
dence and  proffer  offices  of  good  will.  His  manners  were  uncommonly  bland 
and  amiable,  and  yet  were  far  from  lacking  dignity.  He  was  always  welcome 
to  every  social  circle,  and  persons  of  all  ages  and  classes  seemed  to  enjoy  iiis 
company.  More  than  most  men,  he  was  attentive  to  those  little  courtesies  of 
life,  in  which  is  centered  so  much  of  human  enjoyment.  Not  even  a  little 
child  would  be  long  in  his  presence  without  feeling  that  he  was  in  a  region  of 
bright  sunshine. 

Dr.  Thayer's  mind  was  symmetrical  and  well-balanced,  rather  than  marked 
by  any  extraordinary  or  startling  qualities.  I  should  say,  however,  that  the 
preponderating  quality  was  good  judgment  in  connection  with  a  quick  percep- 
tion of  the  motives  and  principles  of  human  conduct.  AVhile  he  was  charac- 
teristically frank,  in  the  expression  of  his  opinions,  his  frankness  never  dege- 
nerated into  rashness,  but,  on  the  contrary,  was  associated  with  an  uncom- 
mon measure  of  discretion.  In  the  course  of  his  ministry,  he  was,  several 
times,  placed  in  circumstances  of  great  delicacy, —  once  in  connection  with 
some  political  movements  in  his  parish,  and  once,  or  perhaps  more  than  once, 
in  connection  with  the  discipline  of  some  prominent  members  of  his  church; 
but,  owing  to  his  uncommon  tact  and  skill,  he  came  out  unscathed.  It  was  a 
remarkable  testimony  to  his  prudence  and  popularity,  that,  until  near  the 
close  of  his  life,  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  large  town  of  Lancaster  had 
remained  united  under  his  ministry;  and  when  a  secession  finally  took  place, 
it  was  altogether  on  the  ground  of  a  difference  of  religious  ojtinion. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Thayer  had  some  "fine  qualifications.  His  voice  was  one 
of  the  best, —  clear,  melodious  and  commanding;  and  his  enunciation  was 
remarkabl}''  distinct;  but  he  had  a  measured  cadence  which  gave  to  his  man- 
ner somewhat  of  an  air  of  uniformity.     His  appearance  was  highly  dignified. 


NATHANIEL    THAYER.  251 

approaching  perhaps  to  an  air  of  stateliness.  He  uttered  himself  with  great 
solemnity,  and  not  unfrequently  with  considerable  pathos.  lie  did  not  often 
preach  upon  doctrinal  points,  but  dwelt  chiefly  on  the  practical  precepts  of  tlie 
New  Testament.  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  heard  more  than  one  Sermon 
from  him  that  could  be  considered  in  an}'-  sense  controversial;  and  that  was 
nothing  more  than  a  simple  statement  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Unitarian  School. 

As  to  his  particular  views  in  regard  to  the  person  of  Christ,  I  think  I  may 
safilysay  that  he  was  an  Arian;  but,  in  respect  to  this  and  kindred  subjects, 
I  need  not  speak,  as  the  following  extract  from  a  Sermon  which  he  preached 
at  tlie  ordination  of  the  Rev.  Abner  D.  Jones,  at  Ilubbardston,  is  sufficiently 
explicit  to  supersede  the  necessity  of  any  further  notice  of  his  religious  opin- 
ions. 

"  Next  in  order,  to  invite  our  contemplation  is  the  Scriptural  account  of  a 
'Saviour.  We  will  commence  our  remarks  with  a  general  description  of  the 
state  of  the  world,  which,  to  human  view,  rendered  some  remarkable  inter- 
position of  Heaven  highly  important,  that  the  people  who  then  lived  miglit  be 
enliglitened  and  regenerated.  Tlie  inhabitants  of  the  earth  were,  in  regard  to 
religious  knowledge,  in  intellectual  darkness,  and  they  needed  a  great  light. 
They  were  in  sin,  and  needed  redemption  from  its  bondage.  Tiiey  were 
exposed  to  death,  and  w^anted  instruction  in  the  great  doctrine  of  a  resun-ec- 
tion  and  a  future  life.  To  remedy  these  evils  in  their  condition  a  Saviour 
•was  appointed.  AYho  was  the  Saviour.''  He  was  the  Son  of  God;  had  a 
derived,  dependant  and  subordinate  existence;  had  the  Spirit  without  mea- 
sure; and  was  endowed  with  every  qualification  for  the  fulHlment  of  his  medi- 
atorial duty.  In  the  midst  of  a  corrupt  world.  He  was  holy,  harmless  and 
undetiled.  Exposed  to  provocations  and  injuries.  He  was  forbearing  and  for- 
giving. His  great  errand  was  to  proclaim  the  mercy  of  God  to  all  who  are 
truly  humble. 

"  There  was  a  peculiar  significancy  in  his  sufferings  and  death;  not  as  ren- 
dering satisfaction  to  Divine  justice;  not  as  a  means  of  appeasing  tlie  anger 
of  an  offended  Deity;  not  as  a  method  of  reconciling  a  Being  who  was  always 
plenteous  in  mercy  and  ready  to  forgive.  These  suUerings  and  death  were  to 
have  the  highest  moral  influence.  They  were  to  exhibit  the  magnanimity  and 
worth  of  the  intrepid,  the  Divine  sufferer.  They  were  to  impress  all  who 
come  to  a  knowledge  of  them  witli  the  worth  of  the  beings  for  whose  reco- 
very and  salvation  such  immense  means  were  used.  Nor  was  this  all.  He 
has  herein  held  out,  as  was  never  before  exhibited,  an  example  of  patience 
under  sufferings;  submission  to  the  Divine  will;  and  triumph  in  the  immedi- 
ate view  of  death  and  eternity.  *  *  *  * 

<<  The  question  is  not  unfrequently  asked,  Do  these  Christians  believe 
in  the  doctrine  of  regeneration  ?  Do  they  admit  the  necessity  of  a  change  of 
heart  ?  Do  they  give  full  credence  to  that  prominent  declaration  of  the  Re- 
deemer,^-' Except  a  man  be  born  again  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God." 

These  questions  relate  to  a  subject  in  its  nature  too  solemn,  to  a  property  of 
the  Christian  character  too  valuable,  not  to  receive  a  direct  and  full  answer. 

<<  The  figure  used  by  our  Saviour  had  for  its  primary  design  to  represent  a 
change  from  one  religion  to  another.  Nicodemus,  who  was  a  Jew,  if  born 
again,  would  become  a  loyal  subject  of  the  Kingdom  of  Christ.  This  figure, 
the  phrases,  '  new  creature,'  '  born  of  the  Spirit,'  and  others  of  a  similar 
import,  have  a  general  application.  They  denote  a  change  of  spirit  and  char- 
acter, corresponding  to  the  moral  and  religious  deficiencies  of  the  person  who 
is  the  subject  of  it.  A  man,  unsound,  unstable,  corrupt  in  his  principles  or 
views,  if  regenerated,  will  be  restored  to  soundness,  stability,  purity.  A 
man,  habituated  to  any  vice,  abandons  that  vice,  and  becomes  exemplary  for 
the  opposite  virtue.      A  man,   in  the  confirmed  indulgence   of  any  corrupt 


252  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

affection  or  passion,  regulates  or  changes  his  affections,  subdues  his  passions, 
and  becomes  eminent  for  chasteness  and  purity.  A  man,  who  has  estranged 
himself  from  the  ways  of  God,  and  has  no  relish  for  devotional  meditations 
and  exercises,  becomes  disposed  and  prepared  to  hold  communion  with  the 
Father  of  his  spirit.  lie  diligently  employs  himself  in  acquiring  a  moral  fit- 
ness for  the  scenes  to  which  he  is  destined  as  an  accountable  and  immortal 
being. 

"  Regeneration,  in  this  view  of  it,  is  a  reasonable  doctrine.  We  do  not 
represent  it  as  an  exercise  of  the  imagination,  feelings  or  passions,  but  as  a 
radical,  full,  entire  change  of  heart  and  character.  We  speak  of  the  man  as 
regenerated,  who  has  imbibed  the  Spirit  of  Christ;  who  has  modelled  his  life 
after  the  life  of  Christ,  by  walking  even  as  He  also  walked.  We  describe  the 
man  as  in  a  regenerated  state,  who  aims  to  relinquish  all  his  corrupt  attach- 
ments, to  become  holy  in  heart  and  life,  and  all  manner  of  conversation. 

«'  Do  all  men  need  to  be  changed,  to  be  converted  .''  We  may  satisfactorily 
answer  this  question  by  inquiring  where  are  the  Christians,  who  have  no  impure 
motives,  sinful  propensities,  unrestrained  appetites,  untamed  passions  .''  Where 
are  the  Christians  who  have  not  occasional  indifference,  lukewarmness  and  lan- 
guor in  their  religion  .''  Where  aie  the  Christians  who  have  uniformly  the  ac- 
tive, decided,  persevering  conformity  to  the  dictates  of  conscience  and  the  will  of 
God,  which  the  Gospel  requires.''  Where  are  the  Christians  who  have  no  just 
apprehensions  lest  the  love  of  the  world,  and  the  pursuit  of  its  precarious 
joys,  do  Sometimes  gain  the  ascendancy  over  a  concern  for  religion  and  the  soul? 
Little  doubt  can  remain  whether,  in  some  qualities  of  the  mind,  heart  and 
character,  all  men  need  change  and  improvement.  *  * 

"  The  subject  of  human  depravity  has,  in  all  ages  busily  occupied  the  mind 
of  Christians.  It  has  caused  us  to  contemplate  it  with  more  than  common 
solicitude  to  arrive  at  the  truth,  that  it  may  be  clearly  and  confidently  stated. 
In  what  condition  do  human  beings  come  into  the  world  ?  Are  they  sinful 
or  holy.'  I  answer  tliat,  in  a  positive  sense,  they  are  neither.  They  have  no 
moral  or  religious  character.  This  chai-acter  is  to  be  the  result  of  discipline. 
It  may  be  asked,  if  the  human  race  come  into  the  world  in  a  moral  view,  thus 
entirely  destitute,  if  they  cannot,  in  strictness  of  language,  be  called  either 
virtuous  or  vicious,  how  are  we  to  account  for  the  deep  and  general  depra- 
vity of  the  world.''  Can  this  be  accounted  for  but  upon  the  idea  that  we  come 
into  the  world  actual  and  aggravated  sinners.'  Look  abroad,  and  you  will 
neither  doubt  the  existence  of  this  depravity,  nor  the  adequateness  of  the 
means  for  producing  it.  Evil  passions,  ungoverned  appetites,  immoderate 
desires,  vices,  crimes  of  every  description,  will  be  seen  to  exist,  and  alarm- 
ingly to  abound.  We  do  not  dispute  the  tendency  of  reasonable  beings  to  sin; 
that  they  have  a  moral  capacitj^  and  constitution,  which  may  be  influenced, 
directed,  moulded  to  all  which  is  corrupt  and  wicked.  Imagine  that  the  moral 
capacity  is  such  as  I  have  described,  and  then  ask  j-ourselves  whether  there  be 
not  in  the  negligence  and  positive  faults  of  parents;  in  the  defects  of  domestic 
education;  in  the  demoralizing  instructions  and  counsels  which  are  given;  in 
the  corrupt  associations  which  are  formed;  in  the  temptations  to  sin  Avhich 
assail  us  from  all  quarters;  sufficient  to  account  for  the  wrong  bias  and  evil 
direction  of  the  mind;  for  the  awful  perversion  and  misapplication  of  talents; 
for  the  universal  depravation  and  wickedness  of  many  lives.  In  these  ways 
do  I  account,  and  I  think  Avith  the  highest  reason,  for  the  wickedness  of  the 

"  Having  spoken  of  the  depravity  of  the  world,  and  assigned  sufficient  rea- 
sons for  it,  the  transition  is  natural  to  exhibit  a  scriptural  account  of  the  sanc- 
tions of  religion. 

«'  It  is  too  notorious  to  be  disputed, —  the  instruction  comes  from  nature. 


NATHANIEL    THAYER.  253 

reason  and  revelation, —  that  there  is  in  iniquity  a  direct  and  certain  ten- 
dency to  infelicity  and  misery.  The  child  who  is  intractable,  disobedient, 
perverse,  immediately  reaps  some  of  the  wages, —  the  punishment  of  this 
intractableness,  disobedience,  perverseness.  The  youth,  accustomed  to  a  dis- 
orderly, vicious,  profligate  course,  never  fails,  in  disgrace,  mortification 
and  various  evils,  to  receive  a  dreadful  recompense  for  his  violations  of  moral 
propriety  and  order.  The  adult,  likewise,  who  resists  the  monitions  of  con- 
science, debases  his  mind  by  sensuality  and  excess;  is  regardless  of  the  dis- 
tinction between  moral  good  and  evil;  has  a  punishment  awaiting  him  from 
which  he  cannot,  by  any  industry,  wariness  or  art,  escape.  There  is  nothing 
in  death  to  check  or  destroy  the  tendency  of  virtue  to  happiness,  or  of  vice  to 
misery.  There  is  notliing  in  the  eternal  world  which  encourages  a  hope  of 
exemption  from  the  threatened  penalties  of  habitual  transgression.  I  know 
of  no  system  in  relation  to  the  sanctions  of  religion,  to  the  nature,  tendency 
and  consequences  of  both  sin  and  holiness,  which  has  in  it  any  thing  of  rea- 
son, which  gatliers  any  strength  from  observation,  experience,  or  the  word  of 
God,  other  tlian  that  which  teaches  and  establishes  the  following  great,  funda- 
mental, unalterable  princijiles.  While  men  are  habitually  virtuous  and  holy, 
it  is  a  reasonable  expectation,  and  receives  encouragement  from  the  best  sources 
of  knowledge  and  faith,  that  they  will  be  happy.  When  they  are  wilful  and 
habitual  violators  of  the  laws  of  human  society  and  God,  and  continue 
impenitent,  they  are,  and  will   be  miserable." 

Such  were  Dr.  Thayer's  religious  opinions  as  set  forth  by  himself.  I  will 
only  add  that  I  am  Very  sincerel}'  yours, 

SAMUEL  WILLARD. 

FROM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

BosTO.N,  September  20,  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Thayer  in  1820,  when  I  went 
to  Lancaster  with  my  father's  family,  with  the  intent  of  keeping  school  there; 
and  in  him,  for  the  only  time  in  my  life,  saw  the  ideal  of  an  old  fashioned 
New  England  clergyman. 

Dr.  Thayer  lived  in  a  plain  parsonage,  made  gorgeous  by  a  front  yard, 
which  was  an  avenue  of  beautiful  elms  meeting  over  the  plain  green  grass- 
plat  before  the  door,  in  that  most  transcendent  natural  arch  which  is  made 
by  corresponding  rows  of  what  Southey  so  finelj'  calls  '<  the  lady  of  the  for- 
est." On  one  side  was  a  large  garden,  M-hich  Dr.  Tliayer  cultivated  with  his 
own  hands;  having,  ever  since  his  settlement,  then  some  forty  years,  risen  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  work  in  it.  It  was  quite  the  fashion  in  Lan- 
caster to  rise  early,  and  I  often  made  a  call  on  him  in  his  garden  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  although  I  walked  nearly  two  miles  to  enjoy  the 
pleasure. 

After  breakfast,  he  always  went  to  his  study,  and  his  first  business  in  the 
week  was  to  write  a  sermon,  which  was  always  characterized  by  excellent 
sense,  and  delivered  with  much  impressiveness,  in  a  rich  round  voice,  that 
sounded  like  thunder  in  the  pew  under  the  pulpit,  where  I  sat.  He  never,  I 
believe,  wrote  but  one  a  week. 

But  it  was  in  his  more  private  relations  to  his  people  that  Dr.  Thayer  was 
most  interesting.  Lancaster,  the  village  of  elms,  and  one  of  the  loveliest 
spots  in  Massachusetts,  was  so  large  that  he  had  to  ride  many  miles  to  make 
his  parish  calls;  and  this  visiting  was  the  business  of  most  of  his  summer 
days.  I  sometimes  rode  with  him,  and  he  would  stop  every  time  he  met  any 
one,  and  have  a  few  words.  He  was  the  counsellor  of  every  family;  for  this 
old  township  was  then  an  undivided  parish,  all  whose  inhabitants  attended 


254  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

his  church,  except  a  few  Swedenborgians.  Nearly  every  afternoon  during  the 
whole  winter  he  devoted  to  visiting  the  schools,  being  always  on  the  School 
Committee. 

Dr.  Thayer  had  great  prudence  as  well  as  great  kindness,  and  seemed  to 
disarm  and  control  all  troubling  passions.  He  was  thoroughly  respected, 
and  had  great  influence,  although  modesty  and  reserve  Mere  very  strong  char- 
acteristics. 

He  was  one  of  the  first  —  if  not  the  first  —  minister  in  Massachusetts, 
"who,  immediately  on  his  Ordination,  called  the  church  together,  and  cast 
out  the  two  old  Puritan  creeds,  which  had  been  the  conditions,  the  one  of 
having  children  baptized,  and  the  other  of  receiving  the  Communion,  and 
substituted  a  platform  which  a  Unitarian  could  subscribe,  as  it  proposed 
only  faith  in  Christ,  leaving  every  one  to  define  this  according  to  his  private 
judgment.  He  told  me  the  change  was  made  with  ver}"^  little  disputing,  and 
no  serious  opposition.  He  had  great  pleasure  in  his  undivided  parish,  and 
seemed  in  it  like  a  patriarch.  After  I  left  Lancaster,  another  church  was 
formed,  b}''  means  of  Calvinistic  preaching,  on  the  borders  of  Bolton  and  Lan- 
caster; but  although  this  was  a  trial  to  him,  it  never  led  him  to  sacrifice 
either  his  courtesy  or  his  dignity. 

Some  people  said  Dr.  Thayer  was  cold  in  his  temperament,  and  called  his 
self-command  policy.  I  do  not  think  this  was  just,  and  I  was  intimately 
acquainted  with  him  at  a  period  of  life  when  want  of  glow  is  considered 
almost  a  crime.  He  was  reserved  and  modest,  but  I  think  perfectly  coura- 
geous and  straight  forward,  and  felt  himself  so  clear  in  his  great  oflBce  that 
he  could  afford  to  be  gentle  and  courteous.  I  do  not  think  he  had  any  lust 
of  power,  but  exercised  that  influence  which  nature  and  conscientious  self- 
culture  gave  him,  with  sole  reference  to  the  well-being  of  those  who  were 
within  his  sphere  of  duty.  My  first  conversation  with  him  was  an  account, 
on  my  own  part,  of  some  sermons  I  had,  within  a  short  time,  heard  from  Dr. 
Channing.  I  poured  out  my  enthusiastic  delight  at  their  artistic  beauty,  as 
well  as  what  seemed  to  me  their  profound  religious  truth;  and  I  believe  I  won 
his  heart  with  my  warmth.  I  never  remember  his  countenance  that  it  was  not 
beaming  with  feeling.  Yours  very  truly, 

ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 


WILLIAM  WELLS,  D.  D. 

1793—1827. 

FROM  WILLIAM  WELLS,  ESQ. 

Cambridge,  January  10,  1850. 

My  dear  Sir  :  According  to  your  request  and  my  promise,  I  proceed  to 
give  you  such  a  sketch  of  the  life  and  character  of  my  father  as  it  is  in 
my  power  to  furnish. 

William  Wells  was  born  at  Biggleswade,  Bedfordshire,  England,  in 
the  year  1744.  His  ancestors  were  respectable  farmers.  His  father  died 
while  he  was  yet  an  infant,  and  his  mother,  when  he  was  in  his  ninth 
year.  Thus  he  and  three  sisters  were  left  orphans  at  a  very  early  age  ;  I 
believe,  with  little  property. 

His  sisters  all  married  and  lived  at  Bedford.  They  were  all  excellent 
women  and  greatly  respected.     One  of  them  was  the  wife  of  Mr.  John 


WILLIAM   TVELLS.  255 

Kilpin.  "  He  was  a  man  of  the  strictest  honour  and  integrity,  A  larger 
acquaintance  with  the  world  has  coufirnied  my  early  opinion  of  his  uncom- 
mon escellence.  For  several  years,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  observing 
his  daily  walk  and  conversation,  and  I  declare  that  I  consider  it  as  one  of 
the  greatest  blessings  of  my  life  to  have  had  such  a  man  for  my  friend,  and 
such  an  example  before  me.  My  aunt  was  worthy  to  be  the  wife  of  such  a 
man."*  Mr.  Kilpin  was  a  leading  member  of  the  Old  Meeting  at  Bed- 
ford. This  Society,  founded  by  John  Bunyan,  was  then  and  still  is  very 
flourishing.  The  celebrated  John  Howard  and  Mr.  Whitbread  were  mem- 
bers of  it,  and  friends  of  my  uncle. 

My  father  resided  with  his  uncle,  Ebenezer  Custerson,  a  respectable 
farmer,  at  Cardington,  near  Bedford.  Here  also  lived  Mr.  Howard.  I 
have  seen  letters  from  jMr.  H.  to  Mr.  C.  written  while  upon  his  travels  in 
Turkey  on  the  Crimea. 

My  father  was  prepared  for  the  Academy  by  the  Rev.  S.  Sanderson,  of 
Bedford.  He  had  an  extraordinary  regard  for  this  gentleman.  I  remem- 
ber, when  I  was  looking  in  a  book  which  contained  Mr.  S's  autograph,  he 
put  his  finger  upon  it,  and  said  very  impressively, — "  My  son,  I  charge 
you  never  to  erase  this  name."  I  have  heard  he  was  aided  in  his  academi- 
cal education  by  Mr.  Howard,  whose  friendship  he  always  retained,  and 
whose  liouse  he  visited  whenever  he  went  to  Bedford. 

The  Christian  ministry  was  bis  early  choice  and  determination.  In  the 
year  1766,  he  went  to  the  Academy  at  Daventry,  where  he  resided  the 
Usual  time.  At  that  period,  this  Institution  was  under  the  care  of  the 
Kev.  Mr.  Caleb  Ashworth,  the  immediate  successor  of  Dr.  Doddridge,  Mr. 
A.  held  a  high  place  in  the  estimation  of  the  Dissenting  Body.  Though 
inferior  in  genius  to  his  eminent  predecessor,  he  probably  excelled  him  in 
learning,  as  he  certainly  did  in  dignity  and  authority,  so  necessary  in  the 
government  of  young  men.  This  Academy  was  then  in  high  repute 
among  the  Dissenters ;  the  students  were  numerous ;  and  many  of  them 
subsequently  much  distinguished.  Doctors  Kippis,  Enfield,  and  Priestley 
preceded  my  father.  Thomas  Belsham  and  Samuel  Palmer  were  Bedford 
men,  and  his  fellow-students.  !Mr.  B.  Carpenter  was  also  of  his  own 
standing,  afterwards  his  brother-in-law,  and  settled  near  him  at  Stour- 
bridge. I  should  be  too  prolix,  did  I  interrupt  my  narrative  to  speak  of 
this  learned  and  excellent  man.  Job  Orton  was  an  assistant  to  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge. Whether  he  remained  with  his  successor  I  am  not  certain.  He 
was  an  eminent  person.  I  remember  him  well  when,  driven  by  age 
and  infirmity  from  his  pastoral  labours,  he  resided  at  Kidderminster.  My 
father  loved  and  honoured  him  while  living,  and  was  one  of  his  Executors. 
Mr,  Orton  speaks  in  one  of  his  published  letters  of  "Mr,  Wells,"  as 
"a  man  of  an  excellent  spirit,"  He  was  settled  at  Bromsgrove,  Worces- 
tershire, in  the  year  1770,  In  January  following,  he  married  Jane,  a 
daughter  of  the  Bev,  James  Hancox,  of  Dudley,  with  whom  he  lived  in 
all  the  happiness  which  the  married  state  can  give,  until  her  death,  in 
1817.  Her  cheerful  and  steady  temper  in  particular  was  of  the  greatest 
advantage  to  her  husband ;  who.  like  all  men  of  strong  feelings  and  ardent 

•  From  some  memoranda  furnished  by  my  brother,  James  H.  Wells. 


256  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tetnperanient,  though  habitually  spirited  and  cheerful,  had  occasionally 
intervals  of  depression. 

There  were  several  remarkable  circumstances  in  the  life  of  my  grand- 
fatlier  Haiicox.  His  father  and  grandfather  were  members  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church  ;  his  mother  favoured  the  Puritan  opinions.  Mr.  Baxter 
has  given  a  hiyh  character  of  her  ancestor,  Mr.  Baker.  So  zealous  was  his 
grandfather,  that  he  took  his  grandson,  Avith  the  nurse,  without  the  know- 
ledge of  the  mother,  to  the  Vicar  of  Kidderminster,  and  had  him  bap- 
tized according  to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England.  To  this  Church  he 
had  devoted  his  grandson, —  tlie  eldest  of  thirteen  children  and  the  heir 
of  his  family.  Diis  aliter  visum.  As  the  boy  grew  up,  he  began  to  have 
scruples  respecting  Conformity,  and  became  averse  to  going  to  Cambridge, 
where  some  of  the  family  had  been  educated.  He  obtained  permission  to 
go,  for  some  time,  to  an  Academy  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Latham,  at  that 
time  a  distinguished  Seminary  among  the  Dissenters.  Here  l.ie  lived,  for 
some  time,  very  happily,  and  applied  himself  vigorously  to  study.  He  was 
at  length  summoned  to  Cambridge.  But  his  opinions  in  favour  of  Non- 
conformity had  taken  deep  root.  He  had  a  strong  sense  of  filial  duty,  and 
the  times  were  those  of  high  paternal  authority.  A  clergyman  of  the 
Established  Church,  whose  advice  he  sought,  pronounced  him  better  quali- 
fied for  his  profession  than  was  usual  at  the  University.  This  conflict  in 
feelings  occasioned  him  severe  sufi'ering.  His  grandfather  had  destined 
for  him  the  Living  of  Kidderminster.  Whether  he  was  the  Patron  T 
know  not,  but  he  certainly  had  then  the  power  of  Presentation.  He  gave 
his  grandson  to  understand  that  if  he  declined  to  enter  the  Church,  ia 
addition  to  the  loss  of  this  Benefice,  he  should  leave  his  fortune  elsewhere. 
His  father,  convinced  at  length  of  his  conscientious  motives,  became 
reconciled  to  him.  The  old  gentleman  was  more  diflicult.  During  his 
last  illness,  however,  he  relented,  sent  for  his  grandson,  acknowledged  his 
merits,  and  left  him  a  handsome  estate.  His  next  brother  was  then 
destined  for  the  Church,  but  he  died  soon  after  having  con)pleted  his  edu- 
cation. A  son  of  his  daughter  was  then  substituted,  who  died  under  very 
similar  circumstances.  Eventually,  my  grandfather  declined  the  Living, 
adhering  to  his  Dissenting  principles.  This  Vicarage  of  Kidderminster 
was,  at  that  time,  worth  more  than  thirty-five  hundred  dollars  per  annum, 
and  was  the  same  from  which  Bichard  Baxter  was  ejected  in  1662.* 

My  father's  congregation  at  Bromsgrove  included  several  very  respecta- 
ble families.  Though  small,  it  was  the  largest  of  three  Dissenting  Socie- 
ties in  that  town.  The  others  were  an  Independent  Calvinistic  and  a 
Baptist  Church.  He  was  beloved  by  his  flock,  and  happy  in  the  friendship 
of  some  neighbouring  ministers,  several  of  whom  had  been  his  fellow- 
students. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  movements  which  preceded  the  American 
Revolution,  he  took  a  strong  interest  in  favour  of  the  Colonies.  He  was 
never  a  Eadical,  or  an  Agitator,  and  did  not  write  or  speak  in  public  his 
political  opinions.  He  was  attached  to  the  principles  of  the  British  Con- 
stitution, but  expressed  his  opinions  with  the  freedom  of  an  Englishman. 
He  exerted  himself,  with  Dr.  Price,  Dr.  Wren,  of  Portsmouth,  &c.,  in 
*  From  an  interesting  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  Jas.  Hancox,  by  his  daughter. 


WILLIAM    WELLS.  257 

collecting  subscriptions  for  the  relief  of  the  American  Prisoners.  AVhen 
Mr.  Laurens,  upon  his  liberation  from  the  Tower,  passed  through  Broms- 
grove,  on  his  way  to  Bristol,  he  inquired  for  Mr.  Wells,  stating  that  he 
wihIieJ  to  return  his  own  and  his  country's  thanks  to  him  for  this  service. 
My  father  was  then  absent,  but  Mr.  Laurens  sent  a  message  to  this  pur- 
port to  my  mother. 

My  father's  health  had  been  affected  by  his  residence  in  the  town,  and 
he  removed  to  a  hamlet  distant  about  two  miles,  where  he  cultivated  a 
small  farm.  This  was  an  occupation  which  he  well  understood,  and  in 
which  he  much  delighted.  He  had  in  his  house  several  boys  from  respecta- 
ble Dissenting  families,  some  of  whom  became  attached  friends.  Notwith- 
standing these  laborious  avocations,  no  one  thought  his  people  or  his  study 
neglected.  He  commonly  rose  at  four  o'clock,  and  in  the  tardy  mornings 
of  an  English  winter,  his  candle  might  be  seen  three  hours  before  daylight. 
At  the  Academy  and  in  early  life  he  was  a  hard  student,  and,  though  he  never 
claimed  the  reputation  of  a  learned  man,  he  had  read  much  and  carefully. 
I  cannot  be  mistaken  when  I  state  that,  at  that  time,  the  education  of 
Dissenting  ministers  under  Dr.  Doddridge  and  others,  his  cotemporaries 
and  successors,  was  far  superior  to  that  commonly  acquired  at  the  Universi- 
ties. Bishop  Butler,  Dr.  Samuel  Chandler,  and  Dr.  Hart,  afterwards 
Archbishop  of  Dublin,  were  educated  at  a  small  Academy  kept  by  a  Dis- 
senter. Archbishop  Seeker,  if  I  mistake  not,  received  his  education,  in 
part  at  least,  among  the  Dissenters,  and  even  preached  among  them. 
Several  other  of  their  Academies  produced  eminent  men.  Indeed,  as  Dis- 
senters, obliged  to  stand  entirely  upon  their  own  merits  and  the  affections- 
of  their  people,  they  had  the  most  cogent  motives  for  exertion.  The- 
leaders  in  their  Academies  vp^ere  their  first  men,  brought  to  this  occupation, 
by  tlieir  sense  of  duty  and  the  call  of  the  Dissenting  Body,  and  rewarded 
for  their  superior  toils  and  trials  only  by  that  discharge  of  duty,  and  by 
that  veneration  which  follows  an  unyielding  adherence  to  it. 

My  father  was  always  a  student.  He  had  in  England  a  very  good' 
library,  and,  to  the  latest  period  of  his  life,  his  study  was  his  resort  when 
leisure  allowed. 

His  memory  was  tenacious.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  Ecclesiastical 
History, —  that  of  the  Reformation,  and  especially  of  the  Puritans  and 
Dissenters.  The  works  of  Baxter,  Bates,  Calamy,  Neal,  and  especially 
of  John  Howe,  were  familiar  to  him.  Of  Howe's  Living  Temple  he  often 
spoke.  With  the  successors  of  these  worthies, — Watts,  Taylor,  &e.  he  was 
of  course  well  acquainted.  He  had  in  his  library  many  of  the  best  writers 
belonging  to  the  Established  Church.  Burnet,  Tillotson  and  Clarke  were 
his  favourites.  No  man  was  less  of  a  bigot,  but  the  idea  of  submission  to 
Articles  of  Faith  he  never  could  endure. 

While  at  Bromsgrove,  my  father,  whose  truly  feeling  and  compassionate 
temper  always  sympathized  with  the  suffering,  saw  with  concern  the  calami- 
ties of  the  poor  arising  from  the  Small-pox.  His  own  relatives  had  suf- 
fered severely  from  this  dreadful  scourge.  At  that  period,  Inoculation 
was  little  known  or  practised  in  the  middle  parts  of  England.  He  was  so 
sensible  of  its  value  that  he  inoculated  his  own  children, —  a  proceeding 
which  occasioned  much  surprise,  and  some  disapprobation...     As  we  got 

Vol.  VIII.  17 


200  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

through  the  disease  very  well,  some  of  his  friends  requested  him  to  perform 
the  operation  upon  their  children.  This  he  declined ;  but  complied  with 
the  earnest  requests  of  his  poor  neighbours.  The  surgeons  charged  a 
price  which  they  could  not  reach.  Success  produced  more  applications, 
and  for  two  years  his  time  was  much  occupied  with  riding  about  the  coun- 
try, inoculating,  supplying  the  necessary  medicines,  advice,  &c.  to  the  sick. 
He  brought  through  the  disease  nearly  thirteen  hundred.  His  friend.  Dr. 
Johnson,  an  eminent  physician  at  Worcester,  used  pleasantly  to  call  him 
"  Brother  Doctor." 

In  1791  the  Birmingham  riots  happened.  Several  Dissenting  meeting- 
houses, and  many  houses  of  opulent  Dissenters,  were  burnt  by  a  brutal 
mob.  My  father's  house  was  threatened,  and  his  meeting-house  escaped 
destruction  only  by  an  accident.  All  sorts  of  absurd  calumnies  were  cir- 
culated about  the  Dissenters,  and  men  of  the  most  blameless  and  retired 
lives  were  accused  of  forming  the  most  wicked  and  desperate  conspiracies. 
This  opportunity  of  reviving  the  old  accusations  against  the  Dissenters  was 
not  pretermitted  by  the  High  Church  and  Tory  party.  Dr.  Priestley,  who 
never  attended  political  meetings,  who  had  written  but  little  upon  politics, 
and  then  only  in  the  usual  and  authorized  style  of  Mr.  Locke  and  his  follow- 
ers, had  given  deep  offence  by  bold  attacks  upon  the  Theology  of  the  Church, 
and  bigots  secretly  encouraged  the  ignorant  populace  to  destroy  his  house, 
his  place  of  worship,  and  others  of  his  own  and  other  denominations,  in 
Birmingham  and  its  vicinity. 

From  early  life,  my  father  took  great  interest  in  the  history  of  New 
England,  apd  twelve  years  before  he  emigrated,  had  visited  Bristol  to  make 
inquiries.  He  had  opened  a  correspondence  with  the  Ilev.  Dr.  Morse 
upon  that  subject.  This  crisis  of  outrage  and  persecution  produced  his 
decision. 

He  arrived  at  Boston,  with  his  wife  and  eight  children,  June  12,  1793. 
The  next  year,  he  purchased  a  farm  at  Brattleborough,  in  the  State  of  Ver- 
mont, where  he  resided  until  his  death,  December  27,  1827.  It  is  remarka- 
ble tliat  fifty-one  years  after  their  arrival  in  America,  all  his  children  were 
alive  and  in  health, —  his  youngest  son,  John  Howard,  dying  in  1814.  at 
■the  age  of  sixty. 

He  was  invited,  after  some  time,  to  become  the  Pastor  of  the  Society  in 
Brattleborough,  but  declined.  He  foresaw  that  his  farm  and  his  large 
family  would  occupy  mucli  of  his  time;  and  felt  that  he  sliould  be  more 
independent  in  action,  and  perhaps  not  less  useful,  than  if  he  became  tlie 
Pastor.  He  agreed,  howeTer,  to  perform  the  functions  of  tliat  ofiice,  and 
accepted  what  remuneration  the  town  might  vote.  He  was  annually  chosen 
for  about  twenty  years.  Few  ministers  devoted  themselves  more  to  the 
improvement  of  their  people. 

In  1816  he  published  a  pamphlet,  entitled  "  Some  Observations,  taken  in 
part  from  an  Address  delivered  in  the  New  Meeting-House  in  Brattlebor- 
ough, July  7,  1816,  being  the  first  Communion  held  in  that  place." 

I  leave  to  a  more  competent  person  the  exiiibition  of  his  ministerial 
character.  In  theological  opinions  he  was  an  Arla?i'- — in  early  life,  much 
according  to  the  sentiments  of  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  but  considerably  modi- 
fied during   the  last  half  of  his   life.      His  later  judgments,  I   think,  are 


WILLIAM   WELLS.  259 

pretty  accurately  represented  in  Dr.  Price's  Sermons  on  the  Christian  Doc- 
trine. But,  in  truth,  he  laid  little  stress  upon  the  differences  of  Protest- 
ants upon  these  points.  He  had  known,  during  a  long  life,  many  excellent 
men, —  perhaps  equally  excellent, —  Calvinists,  Arians,  Unitarians.  He 
had  his  own  opinions,  but  he  thought  real  religion, —  the  religion  of  the 
heart  and  of  the  life,  the  one  thing  needful.  He  seldom  spoke  of  these 
differences,  and  never  in  his  public  ministrations.  But  he  was  ardent  and 
unshaken  in  his  zeal  for  the  right  of  private  judgment,  and  would  never 
subject  himself  to,  or  aid  in  imposing  upon  others,  any  creed  or  Article  of 
Faith.  He  considered  the  Bible,  and  the  Bible  only,  as  containing  the 
^religion  of  Christians  ;  and  to  search  the  Scriptures  for  himself,  the  right 
and  duty  of  every  man. 

In  youth,  he  was  a  handsome  man,  and  in  age,  his  ample  forehead  and 
grey  hair  gave  him  a  very  venerable  appearance.  He  was  tall,  strong  and 
■well-proportioned,  of  a  courageous  and  ardent  temper,  but  perfectly  mas- 
ter of  it.  His  cheerful  and  lively  spirit  led  him  to  sympathize  warmly 
with  the  prosperous  and  happy  ;  while  a  feeling  heart  and  truly  Christian 
compassion  rendered  him  acceptable  to  the  afflicted.  To  all  his  conversa- 
tion was  pleasing.  His  ready  memory,  and  extensive  acquaintance  with 
distinguished  men  and  important  events,  supplied  him  with  appropriate  and 
pointed  anecdotes  ;  and,  though  as  far  as  possible  from  a  story-teller,  he 
seldom  failed  to  enliven  a  social  conversation  by  some  apt  illustration.  His 
society,  indeed,  was  highly  pleasing,  and  not  only  to  the  grave  and  sober, 
but  to  the  young  and  the  gay. 

His  temperance  was  remarkable.  I  never  knew  him  drink  a  glass  of 
any  thing  but  water. 

His  health  was  usually  \ery  good,  though  he  had  several  times  suffered 
from  severe  inflammatory  diseases  ;  in  two  or  three  of  which  his  life  had 
been  despaired  of.  About  the  age  of  seventy,  he  was  afflicted  by  that  very 
dangerous  disease,  dropsy  in  the  chest.  His  medical  attendants  told  me  — 
what  indeed  appeared  probable  —  that  he  could  not  live  three  weeks.  His 
physicians  called  it  Angina  Pectoris.  He  said  to  me,  "  I  do  not  know 
what  my  complaint  is,  but  I  am  certain  it  is  not  Angina  Pectoris.".  He 
wrote,  at  my  request,  a  statement  of  his  symptoms  to  my  friend,  the  emi- 
nent Dr.  Jackson,  of  Boston,  who  pronounced  it  a  most  accurate  descrip- 
tion of  Hydrothorax.  Dr.  J.  advised  to  the  use  of  the  Digitalis  ;  and  to 
this  medicine  he  appeared  to  me  to  owe  his  recovery.  This,  so  unusual  at 
his  advanced  period  of  life,  was  perfect.  He  was  never  afterwards  troubled 
by  this  disease. 

Some  years  afterwards,  at  the  age  of  seventy-four,  he  made  a  voyage  to 
England,  being  especially  desirous  to  see  his  eldest  daughter  who  had  been 
long  married  and  settled  in  her  native  country.  He  passed  somewhat  more 
than  a  year  abroad,  and  travelled  much,  visiting  the  scenes  of  his  youth 
and  former  life,  and  renewing  such  intimacies  as  time  had  spared.  Every 
one  was  surprised  at  the  accuracy  of  his  memory,  and  at  the  activity, 
energy  and  vivacity  of  his  manners  and  inquiries.  His  account  of  these 
observations  was  an  amusement  to  himself,  and  highly  interested  his  family 
and  friends  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  While  abroad,  he  received,  very 
unexpectedly,  the  diploma  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  University. 


260  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

From  his  youth  up,  he  was  very  religiously  impressed,  and  this  haljit 
was  happily  confirmed  by  the  example  of  those  who  guarded  his  early  years, 
and  afterwards  by  the  society  in  which  he  moved.  His  temper  and  feel- 
ings, thougl»  ardent,  were  habitually  grave  and  devout,  as  became  his  call- 
ing. His  family  services  were  very  serious  ;  and  in  the  various  alterna- 
tions to  which  a  large  family,  during  so  long  a  period,  must  necessarily  be 
exposed,  he  had  the  peculiar  faculty  of  leading  the  thoughts  of  his  child- 
dren  in  the  proper  direction,  and  of  suggesting  the  reflections  which  became 
their  present  circumstances,  whether  of  joy  or  trouble. 

During  his  life,  he  experienced  abundantly  tliose  sorrows  and  trials  which 
fourscore  years  rarely  fail  to  bring  in  their  train.  But  he  never  lost  hia 
cheerful  and  trustijig  temper,  and  was  steadily  supported  by  an  unshaken' 
faith  in  the  goodness  of  God,  and  in  the  promises  of  his  Son's  Gospel. 

I  remain,  Rev.  Sir,  with  the  greatest  respect,  your  friend  and  servant, 

W.  WELLS. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  WILLARD,  D.  D. 

Deerfield,  January  3, 1850. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  William  Wells,  D.  D., 
late  of  Brattleborough,  Vt.,  commenced  in  the  autumn  of  1807.  The  first 
advances  were  made  by  him  within  three  or  four  weeks  of  my  Ordination  in 
this  place,  in  a  proposition  for  an  exchange  of  pulpit  services.  The  exchange 
was  made,  and  repeated  about  once  a  year,  as  long  as  he  had  a  pulpit  at  his 
disposal.  Besides  this,  I  early  conceived  such  a  regai-d  for  his  character  and 
conversation  as  led  me  to  make  the  journey  of  twenty-four  miles,  as  often  as 
circumstances  favoured,  for  the  express  purpose  of  visiting  one  who  was  con- 
stantly gaining  in  my  respect  and  esteem;  and  some  of  these  visits  were 
returned  by  him.  This  intimacy  continued  to  the  close  of  his  life,  amounting 
to  about  twenty  years.  Sucli,  in  few  words,  were  some,  but  not  all,  of  the 
opportunities  which  I  enjoyed  for  becoming  acquainted  with  the  venerable 
man  of  whom  you  have  asked  me  to  give  you  an  account. 

The  outward  person  of  Dr.  Wells  was,  at  first  sight,  prepossessing;  uniting, 
in  an  eminent  degree,  the  expressions  of  dignity  and  benevolence.  He  was 
about  six  feet  in  height,  very  erect,  and  stoutly  built.  His  countenance  was 
at  once  intelligent  and  bland,  and  his  whole  port  and  manner  were  such  as  at 
once  inspired  respect  and  confidence; — a  confidence  which  neither  feared  nor' 
experienced  disappointment. 

Tlie  religious  principles  of  Dr.  Wells,  as  far  as  he  held  them  to  be  import- 
ant, appeared  to  be  firmly  fixed.  He  was,  however,  no  controversialist.  So 
far  from  it,  I  think  I  may  say  he  had  an  aversion  to  the  discussion  of  those 
points  on  which  the  professors  of  religion  have  been  most  at  variance.  To  a 
young  minister  who  was  often  reproached  for  what  was  regarded  by  many 
as  an  erroneous  or  defective  faith,  his  advice  was, — "  Live  down  these 
reproaches."  His  comparative  view  of  speculative  and  practical  errors  may 
be  illustrated  by  an  anecdote.  In  those  days,  when  every  minister's  house 
was  regarded  as  an  inn  or  refectory  for  every  other  minister,  whether  known 
or  unknown,  who  wanted  rest  or  refreshment,  a  young  man  called  upon  him, 
and,  soon  after  the  introduction,  a  dialogue  ensued  very  much  like  the  follow- 
ing:—  Stranger.  '<  Are  there  any  heresies  among  you  .^"  Dr.  fV.  «' I  know 
not  whether  I  understand  the  drift  of  your  question."  Stranger.  "  I  wish 
to  inquire,  Sir,  whether  there  be  any  Arminians,  Socinians,  or  Universalists 
among  you."  Dr.  W.  <«  Oh,  Sir,  there  are  worse,  heretics  than  any  of 
these."     Stranger.  "My  dear  Sir,  what  can  be  worse?"     Dr.  W.  «' Why 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIRKLAND.  261 

there  are  some  who  get  drunk,  and  some  who  quarrel  with  their  families,  or 
their  neighbours,  and  some  who  will  not  pa}"^  their  debts,  wlien  they  might 
do  it,  and  some  who  are  very  profane.  Sucti  men  I  tliink  far  worse  heretics 
than  those  for  whom  you  inquire."  From  tiiis  anecdote  it  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood that  Dr.  Wells  was  either  a  Universalist  or  a  Socinian.  1  am  ver)'  sure 
he  was  neither.  Indeed  I  iiave  no  recollection  that  he  ever  took  any  party 
name  whatever.  He  had  little  regard  for  party  leaders, —  but  had  the  appear- 
ance, both  in  his  conversation  and  preaching,  of  great  independence  in  his 
religious  opinions.  If  he  was  a  Unitarian  in  the  technical  sense  of  tlie  word, 
as  I  belieye  he  was,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  from  my  best  recollections,  after 
the  lapse  of  more  than  twenty  j'ears,  that  he  took  ground  nearly  as  high  in 
regard  to  our  Saviour's  relation  to  the  Father,  as  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke;  that  he 
rested  in  the  supremacy  of  the  Father,  without  searching  very  deeply  into 
those  hidden  things  wliicii  he  considered  as  belonging  to  God  and  not  to  man. 
In  I'egard  to  ministerial  fellowship,  he  took  the  ground  of  exchanging  pulpit 
services  with  any  Congregational  minister  of  unblemished  character,  though 
they  might  differ  widely  in  some  of  their  speculations.  He  had  fellowship  to 
the  last  with  some  of  the  "  orthodox;"  and,  while  on  his  death  bed,  he 
named,  as  the  first  person  to  be  applied  to  for  preaching  his  Funeral  Sermon, 
the  Rev.  Pliny  Dickinson,  a  Calvinistic  minister  in  Walpole.  For  some  reason 
which,  if  I  have  ever  known,  is  forgotten,  Mr.  Dickinson  failed  of  performing 
the  service;  and,  agreeably  to  Dr.  AVells'  conditional  request,  I  preached  the 
Sermon. 

In  conversation  Dr.  Wells  was  entertaining  and  instructive.  He  was  often 
facetious,  but  never  at  tlie  expense  of  reasonable  gravity.  Acquainted  as  he 
was  with  the  nationalities  of  England,  and  with  many  of  the  best  characters, — 
such  for  instance  as  Job  Orton,  John  Howard,  and  William  Roscoe,  his  mind 
was  richly  stored  with  anecdotes  which  either  enlightened  or  enlarged  the 
understanding,  or  exhilarated  without  dissipating  the  spirits,  and  rendered 
him  an  interesting  companion  to  the  old  and  the  young.  As  a  Preacher  he 
was  generally,  if  not  always,  practical  and  serious.  Without  any  apparent 
aim  to  move  the  feelings,  he  was  often  impressive.  The  weight  of  iiis  senti- 
ments, and  the  perfect  simplicity  of  his  manner  and  style,  found  their  way  to 
the  heart,  and  often  left  an  impression  thei'e  which  popular  eloquence  does 
not  generally  produce.  In  his  later  years  he  was  disposed  to  dwell  more  and 
more  on  subjects  intimately  connected  with  that  invisible  woild,  to  which,  as 
he  knew  and  felt,  he  must  soon  be  called. 

I  am  your  very  sincere  friend, 

SAMUEL  AYILLARD. 


JOHN  THORNTON  KIRKLAND,  D.  D.,  LL.  D  * 

1793  —  1840. 

John  Thornton  Kirkland  was  a  son  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Kirkland, 
the  well  known  missionary  among  the  Indians,  and  of  Jerusha  Iiis  wife, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Bingham,  and  who  was  a  niece  of  the  first  Presi- 
dent Wheelock.  He  was  born,  with  a  twin  brother,  whose  name  was 
George  Whitejield,  at  Herkimer,  N.  Y.,  on  the  17th  of  August,  1770. 
He  was  called  John  Thornton,  in  honour  of  the  celebrated  English  philan- 

*  Dr.  Young's  Fun.  Disc. — Dr.  Palfrey's  Eulogy. 


262  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tliropist  of  that  name,  who  had  contributed  liberally  to  the  support  of  the 
Indian  mission. 

As  the  immediate  field  of  Mr,  Kirklaiid's  missionary  labours  was  at 
Oneida,  jMrs.  Kirkland,  soon  after  the  birth  of  these  cliildrcn,  removed 
thither,  where  slie  lived  till  they  were  two  years  old.  But,  as  war  now 
began  to  be  apprehended,  and  it  was  doul)tful  which  side  the  Indians  might 
take,  she  removed,  wi(l\  her  children,  to  Windham,  Conn., — the  native  place 
of  her  mother.  In  the  autumn  of  1772,  in  consequence  of  a  liberal  dona- 
tion from  the  Society  in  Scotland  for  Propagating  Chrislian  Knowledge. 
Ler  husband  was  enalded  to  purchase  a  small  house  and  farm  in  Stock- 
bri<lge,  Mass.,  where  John  Thornton  spent  several  of  his  early  years. 

His  opportunities  here  for  school  education  were  very  meagre,  but  the 
deficiency  was  well  made  up  by  the  watchful  and  unremitting  efforts  of  a 
higlily  intelligent  and  excellent  mother.  When  he  was  four  years  old,  he 
received  a  kick  from  a  horse,  which  left  a  scar  in  his  forehead  that  he  car- 
ried through  life.  This  distressing  casualty,  which  had  so  nearly  proved 
fatal,  greatly  increased  his  mother's  concern  in  his  behalf,  and  rendered 
her  still  more  desirous  that  the  intellectual  tastes  which  began  very  early 
to  be  developed,  should,  as  far  as  possible,  be  encouraged  and  cultivated. 
He  was  distinguished,  in  his  boyhood,  as  well  as  ever  afterwards,  for  un- 
common sweetness  of  temper,  and  was  a  great  favourite  in  the  neiglibour- 
hood  in  which  he  lived. 

In  March,  1784,  when  he  was  thirteen  years  of  age,  he  was  taken  by 
his  father  to  Andover,  Mass.,  and  placed  in  Phillips  Academy,  then  under 
the  care  of  Dr.  Eliphalet  Pearson.  In  consideration  of  his  father's  strait- 
ened circumstances,  the  Hon.  Samuel  Phillips,  afterwards  Lieutenant  Gov- 
ernor of  Massachusetts,  and  one  of  the  most  active  philanthropists  of  his 
day,  received  him  into  his  family,  and  paid  all  the  expenses  of  his  course 
preparatory  to  entering  College.  After  spending  two  years  at  the  Acade- 
my, he  was  admitted  in  April,  1786,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  into  the  Fresh- 
man class  of  Harvard  College,  in  advanced  standing. 

In  the  winter  vacation  of  1787,  there  occurred  an  exigency  which  gave 
him  an  opportunity  of  demonstrating  both  his  patriotism  and  his  courage — 
it  was  the  famous  Shays  Insurrection.  He  enlisted  for  thirty  days  in  an 
army  of  between  four  and  five  thousand  n)en,  which,  under  the  command 
of  General  Lincoln,  quickly  succeeded  in  putting  down  the  rebellion.  He 
engaged  in  this  enterprise,  not  on  account  of  the  novelty  of  the  scene,  or 
for  the  small  pecuniary  compensation  which  he  might  receive,  but  from  an 
honest  conviction  that  the  interests  of  the  country  were  imperilled,  and. 
that  it  was  absolutely  essential  that  the  rebellious  spirit,  which  had  thus 
begun  to  show  itself,  should  be  promptly  suppressed. 

During  his  whole  college  course,  he  was  much  distinguished  as  a  scholar, 
but  was  thought  to  have  a  peculiar  aptness  for  the  Languages  and  Meta- 
physics. He  was  also  universally  looked  upon  as  a  model  of  good  nature 
and  generosity.  He  graduated,  with  high  honour,  in  1789,  at  the  age  of 
nineteen. 

Shortly  after  he  left  College,  he  committed  to  paper  some  brief  notices 
of  his  early  life,  in  which  occurs  the  following  beautiful  tribute 'to  the 
memory  of  his  mother. 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIRKLAND.  263 

"  One  misfortune  befel  me  in  my  Junior  year,  -which  this  world  can  never  repair. 
My  mother,  on  January  23,  1788,  died.  Tlie  highest  pleasure  I  could  enjoy  was  tiiat 
of  i)leasiug;  her;  and  her  influence  over  me' was  so  great  that  I  never  deviated  from 
rectitude  without  feeling  myself  particularly  culpable  on  Iier  account.  Her  affection 
to  iier  children  was  as  great  as  her  sensibility  was  exquisite.  She  seldom  spoke  of 
their  welfare  without  tears,  nor  ever  remitted  her  exertions  to  promote  it.  She  found 
her  chief  consolation,  under  sorrow  and  disa])poiutnient,  in  religion.  In  the  doctrines 
and  promises  of  Christianity  she  had  an  unshaken  faith;  its  precepts  were  her  delight, 
and  their  practice  her  ornament.  In  her  expiring  moments,  slie  felt  its  £n])porting 
power.  When  she  perceived  the  hand  of  death  ready  to  snatch  her,  she  bid  a  calm 
farewell  to  lier  surrounding  friends,  and  with  joyful  conlidence  committed  her  spirit 
to  her  Saviour.  May  her  early  and  constant  instructions,  her  earnest  exhortations  to 
goodness,  her  excellent  example  and  triumphant  deatii.  be  indelibly  impressed  on  the 
minds  of  lier  children,  and  foim  the  directory  of  their  lives.  Go,  gentle  spirit,  to  thy 
native  region,  and  join  the  kindred  tiirong  of  raptured  spirits  in  bliss  to  hymn  the 
praises  of  the  great  Creator.  Thy  genial  virtues  shall  flourish  in  immortal  vigour,  and 
thy  reward  be  vast  as  thy  desires  and  lasting  as  thine  existence." 

luiiucdiately  after  he  graduated,  he  went,  to  reside  at  AnJover  as  ati 
assistant  in  the  Academy,  tlien  under  the  cliarge  of  Ebenczer  Peniberton, 
(afterwards  LL.D.)  Here  lie  spent  a  year,  devoting  liimself  assiduously 
to  his  duties  as  a  teacher,  and  uncertain  whether  he  should  ultimately 
choose,  as  a  profession,  Law  or  Divinity.  After  leaving  Andover,  how- 
ever, at  the  close  of  a  year,  he  went  home  to  Stockbridge,  and  commenced 
the  study  of  Theology  under  the  direction  of  the  llev.  Dr.  Stephen  West. 
From  some  letters  of  his  which  still  remain,  it  would  seem  that  Dr.  West's 
views  of  Theology,  which  are  understood  to  have  been  .substantially 
those  of  Dr.  Hopkins,  found  little  favour  in  the  eyes  of  his  pupil ;  and, 
accordingly,  after  a  short  time,  he  went  to  Cambridge  to  continue  his 
studies  in  a  more  congenial  atmosphere.  Besides  a  critical  examination  of 
the  Scriptures,  he  is  said  to  have  given  much  attention  to  the  writiiiffs  of 
Jortin,  James  Foster,  Tillotson,  Larduer,  Price,  Priestley,  and  others  of 
the  same  school. 

In  1792  he  made  a  visit  to  his  father,  and  spent  several  months  with 
him  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Oneida  Indians.  In  November  of  the 
same  year,  while  he  was  still  prosecuting  his  theological  studies,  he  was 
appointed  a  Tutor  at  Cambridge,  in  the  department  of  Logic  and  Meta- 
physics. He  accepted  the  appointment,  and  held  the  office  till  January, 
1794. 

Just  before  he  began  to  preach,  he  committed  to  writing  a  prayer  of 
considerable  length,  touching  the  duties  and  the  responsibilities  of  the 
ministry,  of  which  the  following  is  the  closing  paragraph  : — 

"  Where,  0  God,  shall  I  look,  but  unto  thee,  my  Father,  Guide  and  Prop.  In  mj 
public  teaching,  in  my  private  studies,  and  my  general  conduct  and  converse,  be 
always,  through  Jesus  Christ,  sufficient  for  me,  tilling  and  influencing  me  by  those 
sentiments,  and  principles,  and  affections,  which  thou  canst  view  with  coini)lacency, 
and  reward,  through  grace,  with  the  paradise  above, —  is  the  prayer  of  thy  sinful  and 
unworthy  creature.     To  thee,  with  the  Saviour  and  Spirit,  be  all  glory,  Amen." 

Mr.  Kirkland,  almost  immediately  after  he  vras  approved  and  recom- 
mended by  the  Association,  was  invited  to  preach  to  the  New  South 
Church,  Boston,  then  vacant;  and,  after  preaching  to  them  a  few  Sab- 
baths, he  was  unanimously  called  to  be  their  Pastor.  He  accepted  the 
call,  and  was  ordained  on  the  5th  of  February,  1794, —  Dr.  Tappau 
preaching  the  Sermon,  and  Mr.  Kirkland's  father  giving  the  Charge. 

In  the  year  18Q2,  when  he  was  only  in  the  thirty-second  year  of  his  age,. 


264  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

and  the  ninth  of  his  ministry,  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
from  tlie  College  of  New  Jersey.  The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  was  con- 
ferred upon  him,  by  Brown  University,  in  1810. 

Such  was  the  reputation  which  Dr.  Kirkland  had  acquired  in  the  com- 
munity, and  so  commanding  the  influence  which  he  exerted  in  the  highest 
circles,  that,  when  the  Presidential  chair  in  Harvard  College  was  vacated 
by  the  death  of  Dr.  Webber,  the  public  attention  was  generally  turned 
towards  him  as  the  most  prominent  candidate  for  that  responsible  station. 
He  was,  accordingly,  chosen  by  the  Corporation,  August  7,  1810  ;  and  his 
election  was  confirmed  by  the  Board  of  Overseers,  on  the  23d  of  the  same 
month.  In  due  time,  he  signified  his  acceptance  of  the  office,  and,  on  the 
14th  of  November  following,  was  inducted  into  it, —  a  Congratulatory 
Address  in  Latin  being  delivered  on  the  occasion  by  Mr.  Samuel  Cooper 
Thacher,  the  Librarian  of  the  University,  who,  a  few  months  after,  suc- 
ceeded Dr.  Kirkland  in  his  pastoral  charge. 

The  Presidency  of  Dr.  Kirkland  marked,  in  many  respects,  a  brilliant 
period  in  the  history  of  the  University.  He  gathered  around  him  a  Body 
of  Professors  and  Tutors,  of  unquestionable  eminence  in  the  several  de- 
partments which  they  occupied,  and  many  of  whom  are  now  regarded  as 
among  the  brightest  stars  in  our  American  literature.  Under  his  admin- 
istration the  course  of  studies  was  re-modelled  and  enlarged  ;  the  qualifi- 
cations for  admission  greatly  advanced  ;  the  Law  School  established  ;  the 
Medical  School  re-organized;  four  different  Professorships  in  the  Academi- 
cal department  endowed  and  filled  ;  three  new  and  substantial  buildings 
erected ;  the  Library  doubled  by  accessions  from  various  sources  ;  and  the 
college  grounds  greatly  iniproved  by  being  encircled  with  beautiful  shade 
trees.  To  Dr.  Kirkland's  influence  with  the  rich  men  of  Boston  there 
was  scarcely  a  limit ;  and  this  influence  he  failed  not  to  exert  to  the  utmost 
in  favour  of  an  institution  with  which  he  had  so  many  grateful  associations, 
and  with  which  his  own  name  was  always  to  be  identified. 

Dr.  Kirkland,  during  the  latter  part  of  his  Presidency,  preached  on 
alternate  Sabbaths,  with  Dr.  Ware,  to  the  students  in  the  college  chapel; 
and,  at  an  earlier  period,  he  often  assisted  his  brethren  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. His  discourses  are  represented  as  having  generally  been  ethical 
dissertations,  not  remarkable  for  continuity  of  thought,  but  characterized 
by  great  condensation  and  a  searching  analysis  of  the  springs  of  human 
conduct.  He  wrote  comparatively  few  sermons  after  he  went  to  Cam- 
bridge. 

In  August,  1827,  he  sufl'ered  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  which  was  the  remote 
cause  of  his  retiring  from  his  office.  On  the  2Sth  of  March,  1828,  he 
tendered  his  resignation,  which  was  accepted  by  the  Corporation,  with  the 
highest  expressions  of  respect  for  his  character  and  of  gratitude  for  his 
services.  On  the  1st  of  April,  he  took  leave  of  his  pupils  in  the  college 
chapel,  in  a  brief  and  touching  Address,  which  he  closed  by  saying, — "  I 
bid  you  an  afi'ectionate  farewell.  God  bless  you  in  time  and  eternity.'' 
The  Address  was  responded  to  in  a  style  of  uncommon  beauty  and  in  a 
tone  of  devoted  affection. 

Early  in  September,  1827,  President  Kirkland  was  married  to  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  his  former  friend   and  parishioner,  the   Hon.  George  Cabot. 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIRKLAND.  265 

He  left  Cambridge  in  April,  1828,  and,  after  spending  the  Summer  in 
Boston,  set  out  with  his  wife  on  a  lung  journey  through  the  Southern  and 
Western  parts  of  the  United  States.  He  passed  part  of  the  winter  ia 
New  Orleans,  and  was  met  every  where  with  a  most  cordial  welcome  from 
his  former  pupils.  On  his  return,  in  the  spring  of  1829,  he  embarked 
from  New  York,  with  his  wife,  in  the  month  of  April,  for  Havre,  and 
spent  three  years  and  a  half  in  travelling  in  foreign  countries.  In  this 
tour  he  visited  Egypt  and  Palestine  ;  and  then,  crossing  the  Balkan  ou 
horseback,  he  proceeded  to  Belgrade,  Buda,  Vienna  and  Munich.  He 
reached  home  in  October,  1832,  and  spent  the  residue  of  his  days  at  Bos- 
ton, in  retirement. 

Notwithstanding  his  life  was  undoubtedly  prolonged,  and  his  health  and 
spirits  benefitted,  by  his  long  and  interesting  foreign  tour,  yet  his  constitu- 
tion had  undergone  a  shock  from  which  recovery  was  hopeless  ;  and  though, 
for  several  years,  he  was  often  seen  in  the  streets  of  Boston,  and  always 
had  a  hearty  greeting  from  his  friends,  yet  they  could  recognize  in  hira 
only  the  wreck  of  the  fine  person  and  intellect  they  used  to  know.  During 
the  year  1839  the  process  of  decay  had  been  considerably  hastened  ;  but 
it  was  only  a  week  before  his  death  that  any  immediately  alarming  symp- 
toms were  developed.  He  died,  Sabbath  morning,  April  26,  1840,  at  the 
age  of  sixty-nine.  His  Funeral  was  attended  on  the  succeeding  Tuesday, 
when  he  was  laid  by  the  side  of  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Cabot,  in  his  family 
vault,  in  the  Granary  Burying  ground.  Dr.  Young,  Dr.  Parkman,  and 
Dr.  Palfrey,  all  delivered  Discourses  commemorative  of  his  life  and  charac- 
ter, wiiich  were  severally  published.  Mrs.  Kirkland  died  in  1852. 
The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Kirkland's  publications  : — 
A  Sermon  before  the  Ancietit  and  Honourable  Artillery  Company,  1795. 
A  Sermon  on  the  day  of  a  National  Fast,  1798.  A  Sermon  at  the  Inter- 
ment of  the  Rev.  Jeremy  Belknap,  D.  D.,  1798.  A  Discourse  on  the 
Death  of  General  Washington,  1799.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of 
the  Itev.  John  Pipon*  at  Taunton,  1800.  An  Address  before  the  Massa- 
chusetts Charitable  Fire  Society,  ISOl.  Bight  Hand  of  Fellowship  to 
the  Piev.  Horace  Holley,  1809. t  A  Sermon  before  the  Massachusetts  So- 
ciety for  the  Suppression  of  Inteniperance,  1814.  A  Discourse  before  the 
Governor  and  Legislature  of  Massachusetts,  on  the  day  of  the  Anniver- 
sary Election,  1816.  A  Discourse  on  the  Death  of  the  Hon.  George 
Cabot,  1823. 

*  John  Pipon  was  a  native  of  Boston;  learned  the  trade  of  a  house-wright,  at  which  he 
wrought  for  a  short  time,  and  afterwards  prepared  himself  for  College,  and  graduated  at 
Harvard  in  1792.  He  was,  for  a  time,  Butler  of  the  University;  then  officiated  as  a  Reader 
at  Christ  Church,  and  resided  for  a  time  at  Biddeford,  Me.  In  1798,  he  was  at  CambridiJ^e, 
pursuing  the  study  of  Theology,  and  preaching  occasionally  in  different  towns.  He  went  to 
Taunton  in  1799,  where  he  received  a  call  the  same  year,  and  was  ordained  in  January, 
1800.  He  died  of  angina  pectoris  in  January,  1821.  He  was  distinguished  for  great  sim- 
plicity of  character,  kindliness  of  spirit,  and  fine  social  qualities. 

t  Horace  Holley,  a  son  of  Luther  Holley,  was  born  in  Salisbury,  Conn.,  February  13, 
1781;  was  fitted  for  College  at  Williamstown,  Mass.,  at  the  Academy,  or  preparatory  school 
connected  with  Williams  College;  entered  at  Yale  in  1799,  and  graduated  in  1803;  studied 
Law  for  a  few  months,  and  then  commenced  the  study  of  Divinity  under  President  Dwight; 
was  licensed  to  preach  in  December,  1804;  was  ordained  and  installed  minister  of  the  con- 
gregation in  Greenfield,  of  which  Dr.  Dwight  had,  for  several  years,  had  the  pastoral  charge, 
September  13,  1805;  resigned  his  charge,  September  1.3,  1808;  was  installed  as  Pastor  of 
the  HoUis  Street  Church,  Boston,  March  8,  1809;  accepted  an  invitation  to  the  Presidency 
of  Transylvania  University  in  1818,  and  held  the  office  till  1827,  when  he  resigned  it  with  a 


266  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Notices  of  the  Life  and  Character  of  .Fisher  Aines,  prefixed  to  his 
worlcs,  1809.  A  Senuoii  inserted  in  a  work  entitled  "  A  General  View  of 
the  Doctrines  of  Christianity,  pp.  109-124,  1809.  Life  of  Conniiodore 
Preble,  in  the  Portfolio,  vols,  iii  and  iv.,  1810.  Review  of  the  llev. 
Ahiel  Abbot's  Statement,  in  the  General  llepository  and  Review,  vol.  I,, 
1812.  Obituary  Notice  of  the  Rev.  John  Lathrop,  D.  D.,  in  the  Christian 
Disciple,  vol.  VI.,  First  Series,  1816.  A  Discourse  in  Connnenioration 
of  John  Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  delivered  before  the  AmericaQ 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  1826.  Printed  in  the  Transactions  of  tiie 
Academy,  New  Series,  vol.  I.  Letter  to  the  Hon.  Joim  Davis,  of  Boston, 
on  the  Holy  Land,  written  at  Cyprus,  May  31,  1832,  and  printed  in  the 
Christian  Examiner,  vol.  XXIII. 

Contributions  to  the  Collections  op  the  Massachusetts   llis- 

ToaiCAL  Society. 
Answer  to  Queries  respecting   the   Indians,  vol.  IV.,  1795.      Notices  of 
the   Life  of  Major    General    Benjamin    Lincoln,  vol.  III.,   Second    Series, 
1815.      Sketch  of  the  Character  of  Caleb   Gannett,  Esq.,  vol.  VIII.      No- 
tice of  Professor  Peck,  vol.  X. 

Contributions  to  the  Monthly  Anthology. 

Review  of  the  Cliristian  Monitor,  vol.  ill.  Address  of  the  Editors, 
vol.  IV.  Memoir  for  establishing  the  Boston  Athenaeum,  do.  Review  of 
Memoirs  of  Priestley,  do.  An  Essay  on  the  Seasons,  do.  Review  of  Dr. 
Joseph  Lathvop's  Sermons,  do.  An  Essay  of  Sympatli-y,  vol.  v.  Review 
of  the  Cliristian  Monitor,  do.  Character  of  the  Hon.  Fisher  Ames,  do. 
Review  of  IMcFarland's  History  of  Heresies,  vol.  VI.  Essay  on  Truth, 
do.  Anecdote  of  Franklin,  do.  Review  of  Coelebs,  do.  An  Essay  ou 
Advice,  vol.  Vlll.  Review  of  Eliot's  and  Allen's  Biographical  Diction- 
aries, do.     Review  of  Memoirs  of  President  Wheelock,  vol.  x. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing  Dr.  Kirkland  quite  well  during  a  period 
of  nearly  thirty  years.  In  May,  1811,  I  made  my  first  visit  to  Boston, 
and,  during  my  stay  there,  was  the  guest  of  the  Rev.  J.  S.  Buckminster, 
As  I  was  setting  out  on  my  homeward  journey,  with  an  intention  of  stop- 
ping a  few  hours  at  Cambridge,  he  gave  me  a  note  of  introduction  to  Presi- 
dent Kirkland,  stating  that  I  should  probably  join  Harvard  College  at  the 
next  Commencement.  On  reaching  Cambridge,  I  stopped  at  the  hotel 
nearest  the  College  ^the  only  one,  for  aught  I  know,  that  there  was  at  that 
day),  and,  as  I  sallied  forth  to  find  Dr.  Kirkland,  met  a  gentleman  on  the 
common,  of  about  the  middle  height,  with  a  slight  tendency  to  corpulency, 
and  a  face  beaming  with  all  that  was  kind  and  generous,  and,  though  I 
suspected  strongly  that  he  was  the  man  I  was  looking  for,  I  ventured  to 
ask  him  if  he  could  tell  me  where   President   Kirkland  lived.      With   a 

view  to  taking  charge  of  a  Seminary  to  be  opened  in  Louisiana ;  but  was  attacked  by  sickness 
in  New  Orleans,  in  the  summer  of  the  same  year,  and  died  of  Yellow  Fever,  on  his  passage 
to  New  York,  on  the  31st  of  July.  He  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  LL.  D.,  by  the 
College  at  Cincinnati.  '  He  published  a  Discourse  on  the  Death  of  Col.  James  Morrison, 
1823.  In  the  early  part  of  his  ministry  he  was  a  Trinitarian,  but,  from  the  time  of  his  set- 
tlement in  Boston,  was  decidedly  a  Unitarian.  lie  was  a  man  of  fine  personal  appearance, 
of  commanding  talents,  and,  both  as  a  Trinitarian  and  a  Unitarian,  was  a  very  popular 
preacher.  A  Discourse  on  his  Genius  and  Character  by  Charles  Caldwell,  M.  D.,  with 
copious  notes,  Biographical  and  Illustrative,  by  his  widow,  was  published  in  1828. 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIRKLAND.  267 

look  and  manner  in  which  the  genial  and  the  quizzical  seemed  to  sliare 
equally,  he  said,  pointing  to  an  open  window  in  a  house  close  by, — "  You 
see  that  window  open  —  go  in  at  the  door  below  it,  and  go  up  stairs,  and 
sit  down  in  the  room  where  you  will  find  yourself,  and  President  Kirk- 
land  will  be  there  in  a  few  minutes."  I  did  as  directed,  and  sure  enough 
I  had  scarcely  got  there,  when  I  was  joined  by  the  bland,  fine  looking 
man  from  whom  I  had  received  the  direction,  and  who  no  longer  left  me  in 
doubt  as  to  whether  he  was  tlie  President.  He  read  Mr.  Buckniinster's 
note,  and  then  began  to  talk  with  me  witli  just  as  niucii  freedom  as  if  lie 
had  known  me  always.  He  seemed  full  (d'  ^oud  hunxiur  and  fun,  and  said 
many  bright  and  witty  things,  some  of  which  1  rc!iir,inlM;r  to  this  day.  As 
he  was  about  taking  his  cigar,  he  asked  nie  if  I  siuokeil  ;  and,  when  I 
replied  in  the  negative,  lie  said, — '•  Well,  you  have  one  negative  sign  of 
virtue  about  you."  I  staid  with  him  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  and  left 
him  with  the  inipressicm  (which  indeed  always  remained  unchanged)  tliat 
be  was  a  most  attractive  and  fasainating  person. 

I  expected,  on  parting  with  him  at  this  time,  to  return  to  Cambridge  in 
September,  to  enter  College  ;  but  it  turned  out  that  I  entered  not  at  Har- 
vard but  at  Yale;  and  my  next  meeting  with  the  President  was  at  the 
close  of  my  Freshman  year,  when  I  had  the  privilege  of  visiting  my 
friends  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Boston,  and  him  among  tlie  rest.  I  spent 
a  night  at  his  house  at  that  time,  where  also  I  was  introduced  to  Mr. 
Everett,  who  was  then  a  Tutor  in  College,  and  a  special  favourite  with  Dr. 
Kirkland.  The  Doctor  was  as  bland  and  witty  as  ever,  and  welcomed  me 
■with  as  much  cordiality  as  if  I  had  been  a  near  relative — and  so  indeed 
Le  always  did  in  the  several  visits  which  I  made  to  him  in  subsequent 
years.  At  the  time  to  which  I  now  refer,  I  remember  he  came  out  of  the 
door  with  me  in  the  morning  when  I  was  coming  away,  and,  as  I  mounted 
my  horse,  (for  I  rode  on  horseback,)  he  gave  me  to  understand  that  my 
horsemanship  might  be  improved,  and  advised  me  before  I  came  again  to 
take  lessons  of  some  famous  teacher  in  that  department,  whose  name  he 
gave  me,  in  Boston. 

On  one  occasion,  when  I  visited  him,  he  was  engaged  to  preach  to  his 
former  flock  in  Boston,  and  he  took  me  over  there  to  spend  the  Sabbath. 
Just  after  we  had  crossed  the  bridge,  leading  into  Boston,  we  overtook 
Father  Taylor,  the  Chaplain  to  the  seamen  ;  and  he  stopped  and  intro- 
duced him  to  me  ;  and  remarked,  as  we  passed  along,  that  he  was  one  of 
the  extraordinary  men  of  his  time.  I  heard  him  preach  both  morning  and 
afternoon  ;  and  though  his  sermons,  which,  as  usual,  were  of  a  purely 
ethical  character,  abounded  in  striking  thoughts  and  pithy  expressions, 
yet  they  were  delivered  with  an  air  of  such  utter  indifference  that  I 
thought  their  effect  upon  the  mass  of  the  people  was  rather  that  of  an 
anodyne  than  of  a  stimulant.     I  never  heard  him  preach  afterwards. 

I  had  an  opportunity,  at  several  different  times,  of  putting  President 
Kirkland's  friendship  to  the  test  ;  and  he  always  showed  himself  my  firm 
friend.  The  congregation  over  which  I  was  settled  at  West  Springfield 
was  not,  at  that  period,  entirely  of  one  mind  in  regard  to  religious  doc- 
trine,—  a  portion  of  them  having  a  strong  leaning  towards  the  system  that 
was  taught  at  Cambridge  ;  and,  after  one  or  two  of  the  students  of  that 


268  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Bchool  had  actually  supplied  the  pulpit  for  a  short  time  as  candidates,  Dr. 
Kirkland  wrote  to  the  parish  committee,  advising  them  to  employ  me  in 
the  same  capacity  ;  and,  strange  enough,  it  was  on  the  united  recommenda- 
tion of  Dr.  Kirkland  and  Dr.  Miller  that  I  was  settled. 

While  I  was  a  student  in  the  Tlieological  Seminary  at  Princeton,  Dr. 
Kirkland,  on  his  way  home  from  Philadelphia,  stopped  to  pay  a  short  visit 
to  his  friend,  the  venerable  Dr.  Samuel  Stanhope  Smith.  As  he  reached 
Princeton  late  in  the  evening,  and  expected  to  leave  before  dinner  the 
next  day,  I  was  sent  for  early  in  the  morning  to  go  to  Dr.  Smith's  to  meet 
him.  I  never  knew  him  more  genial  and  brilliant  than  he  was  that  morn- 
ing. Dr.  Smith  and  he  were  old  friends,  and  each  quickened  the  other's 
fine  powers,  producing  at  once  "  the  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of  soul." 
There  came  on  a  violent  snow-storm,  so  that  it  became  somewhat  doubtful 
whether  the  Doctor  would  leave  that  day  ;  but,  when  I  parted  with  him,  he 
assured  me  that  if  he  shuuLl  conclude  to  remain  till  the  next  morning,  he 
would  certainly  come  to  the  Seminary  and  call  upon  me.  Accordingly,  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  he  came  wading  along  up  in  the  snow,  and  facing  the 
storm,  and  when  he  reached  my  room,  which  was  in  the  fourth  story,  he 
seemed  well  nigh  exhausted  ;  but  he  entered  with  a  smile  upon  his  face 
and  a  witticism  upon  his  lips.  He  made  me  a  pretty  long  call,  and  by  his 
kindly,  winning  manner,  and  agreeable  and  striking  remarks,  set  all  the 
students  who  happened  to  see  him  to  both  wondering  and  admiring.  Tliat 
the  President  of  Harvard  College  should  have  come  up  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
in  a  snow-storm,  and  then  ascended  three  flights  of  stairs,  for  nothing  more 
important  than  to  express  his  good-will  to  one  of  their  own  number, 
seemed  to  them  an  instance  of  condescension,  wliich  at  least  distinguished 
him  from  all  other  Presidents  of  Colleges  with  whom  they  were  acquainted. 

I  saw  Dr.  Kirkland  several  times  after  his  return  from  his  foreign  tour, 
and  the  last  time  was,  I  think,  not  many  months  before  his  death.  The 
smile  of  welcome,  the  kindly,  cordial  manner,  was  still  there  ;  but  scarcely 
any  other  attraction  remained.  The  power  of  enchaining  attention  by 
sententious  and  weighty  remarks  was  gone.  It  was  sad  thus  to  behold  a 
splendid  intellect  in  ruins. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ARIEL  ARROT,  D.  D. 

Peterborough,  N.  H.,  September  22,  1853. 

My  dear  Friend:  My  recollections  of  Dr.  Kirkland  are  all  of  the  most  agreea- 
ble kind,  tliough,  from  the  nature  of  my  intercourse  with  him,  tlie}''  are  rather 
general  than  particular.  He  joined  the  Academy  at  Andover,  if  I  mistake 
not,  M'hen  I  left  it  to  enter  College;  so  that  I  had  no  acquaintance  with  liim 
until  he  came  to  College  in  my  Junior  year.  Judge  Samuel  Phillips,  of  An- 
dover, was  his  particular  friend  and  patron;  and  I  well  remember  that,  after 
he  had  completed  his  college  course,  and  was  yet  undecided  in  regard  to  his 
profession,  the  Judge  called  on  me,  as  I  was  passing  through  Andover,  and 
requested  me  to  use  any  influence  I  might  have  with  him,  to  induce  him  to 
enter  the  ministry.  I  was  myself,  for  some  time,  an  assistant  at  the  Andover 
Academy;  and,  when  I  left  it.  Kirkland  succeeded  to  the  place;  and,  as  I  still 
remained  at  Andover,  pursuing  my  theological  studies,  under  the  Rev.  Mr. 
French,  1  had  frequent  opportunities  of  intercourse  with  him,  and  we  formed 
a  somewhat  intimate  friendship,  which  continued  to  the  close  of  his  life. 

He  was  remarkably  popular  as  a  student  in  College,  both  with  the  govern- 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIRKLAND.  269 

ment  and  with  his  fellow-students,  and  he  had  already  developed,  in  no  small 
degree,  those  traits  of  character  that  afterwards  rendered  him  one  of  the 
most  attractive  men  of  his  time.  His  fine,  open  countenance  would  prepossess 
you  in  his  favour  before  he  opened  his  lips,  and  then  you  could  not  listen  to 
his  conversation  on  any  subject,  without  perceiving  that  he  had  a  mind  of  a 
superior  mould;  and  you  would  Le  very  likely  also  soon  to  discover  that  he 
had  a  heart  that  was  full  of  warm  and  generous  feeling.  His  good  nature, 
which  never  forsook  him,  was  especially  the  delight  of  all  his  college  friends. 
He  stood  in  the  first  rank  as  a  scholar;  and,  while  he  was  more  than  respect- 
able in  all  his  studies,  his  taste  seemed  to  incline  him,  and  his  talents  to 
adapt  him,  mure  especially  to  Metaphysics  and  Ethics,  in  both  of  which 
branches  he  was  pre-eminent.  As  a  writer,  he  was  always  distinguished  for 
terseness  and  point.  His  sermons  were  sometimes  more  like  a  rich  collection 
of  aphorisms  than  a  continuous  discourse  ;  and,  though  they  were  delivered 
in  an  exceedingly  careless  and  unattractive  manner,  they  were  so  full  of  apt 
and  suggestive  thought  that  no  intelligent  hearer  was  likely  to  feel  any  tend- 
ency to  drowsiness. 

Mr.  Kirkland  was  by  nature  and  habit  a  perfect  gentleman,  without  the 
least  semblance  of  parade  or  ostentation;  his  manners  Avere  in  every  respect 
worthy  of  the  Court  —  at  once  polished,  dignified,  and  yet  familiar.  I  have 
rarely  known  a  person  who  could  adapt  himself  to  all  society  and  all  circum- 
stances at  once  so  easily  and  so  successfully.  Those  who  were  educated  at 
Cambridge  during  his  connection  with  the  College  as  President,  will  tell  you 
that  he  had  a  wonderful  facility  at  managing  young  men.  I  heard  Judge 
Parsons  say  that  it  cost  him  a  great  conflict  of  feeling  to  favour  his  removal 
from  the  pastoral  charge  to  the  Presidency  of  the  College,  as  the  change  must 
be  made  at  the  expense  of  his  giving  him  up  as  his  minister  ;  but  that  he  felt 
bound  to  do  it,  as  he  verily  believed  the  place  to  which  he  was  called  was 
made  for  him,  and  he  was  made  for  the  place. 

When  Dr.  Kirkland  was  settled  in  the  ministry,  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  his  doctrinal  views  were  not  very  definitely  formed.  During  the  time 
that  he  was  reading  Theology  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  West,  of  Stock- 
bridge,  he  wrote  me  a  letter  containing  some  verj'  ingenious  speculations,  from 
which  I  inferred  that  he  was  in  doubt  in  respect  at  least  to  some  of  the  sub- 
jects which  were  occupying  his  attention.  His  theological  investigations, 
subsequently  to  his  settlement,  resulted  in  his  becoming  a  decided  Unitarian, 
though,  in  respect  to  the  particular  type  of  his  Unitarianism,  I  cannot  speak 
with  confidence.  His  preaching,  I  believe,  had  scarcely  a  doctiinal  tinge.  He 
was  a  member  of  the  Council  at  Mansfield,  Conn.,  that  was  called  in  the  case 
of  the  Rev.  John  Sherman,  who  had  become  a  Unitarian.  As  Scribe  of  the 
Council,  he  drew  up  the  result, —  a  document  evincing  great  skill  and  sagacity, 
commending  Mr.  Sherman,  in  strong  terms,  but,  at  the  same  time,  cautiously 
avoiding  any  endorsement  of  his  religious  opinions. 

His  natural  tempeiament  was  remarkably  cheerful,  and  he  delighted  in 
innocent  merriment  on  what  he  deemed  suitable  occasions.  During  my  resi- 
dence at  B3'field,  he  came,  I  think  twice,  to  keep  Thanksgiving  with  his 
friend,  Mr.  Parsons;  and  I  well  remember  how  much  we  were  all  entertained 
by  the  exuberance  of  his  wit,  and  his  almost  numberless  bright  and  pithy 
sayings.  Sometimes  he  did  not  hesitate  even  to  renew  the  sports  of  his  boy- 
ish days.  Faithfully  yours, 

ABIEL  ABBOT. 


270  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  DANIEL  WALDO. 

Syracuse,  September  19,  1862. 

M}' dear  Friend:  I  have  now  completed  my  hundredth  j'ear,  and  it  may 
seem  odd  that  I  should  attempt  to  leave  any  thing  more  on  record  about  the 
departed;  but,  as  you  request  it,  I  will  try  to  put  down  what  I  remember  con- 
cerning Dr.  Kirkland.  In  the  year  1811  I  was  employed  as  a  supply  for  the 
pulpit  at  Cambridgeport.  Dr.  Kirkland  had,  a  short  time  before  that,  been 
appoinied  to  the  Presidenc}'^  of  Harvard  College.  As  I  lived  within  a  mile  or 
two  of  him,  I  very  soon  made  his  acquaintance.  I  knew  beforehand  that  his 
religious  views  diflcied  greatly  from  my  own,  but  I  became  convinced  at  once 
that,  however  gieat  a  heretic  he  might  be,  he  was  at  least  very  friendly  and 
kind-hearted.  1  met  him  often,  and  never  failed  to  be  amused  and  interested 
by  his  conversation.  He  was  evidently  a  keen  observer  of  the  workings  of 
human  nature.  He  abounded  in  bright,  pithy  sayings,  that  you  could  not 
help  thinking  of  after  you  had  parted  with  him.  I  never  saw  the  least  mani- 
festation of  ill-will  in  him  towards  any  human  being.  He  would  sometimes 
be  very  keenly  ironical,  but  there  was  never  any  bitterness  in  his  irony.  He 
had  treasured  up  a  great  many  striking  facts  and  anecdotes,  and  he  was 
never  at  a  loss  how  to  apply  them.  You  would  be  very  likely  to  feel  that  he 
■was  the  master  spirit  in  any  company,  and  yet  there  was  nothing  that  looked 
like  an  attempt  to  put  himself  forward.  He  was  a  very  hospitable  man,  and 
used  sometimes  to  invite  me  to  dinner  by  saying, — "  Brother  Waldo,  come 
and  take  trencher  with  me  to-morrow." 

One  of  my  sons  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1818.  He  was  known 
to  be  orthodox  during  his  whole  course,  but  was  treated  by  Dr.  Kirkland,  as 
well  as  by  the  other  members  of  the  Faculty,  with  the  greatest  kindness  and 
consideration.  After  he  graduated,  he  joined  the  Andover  Theological  Semi- 
nary, and  died  before  his  course  there  was  completed. 

Dr.  Kirkland  once  preached  for  me,  and  I  think  that  was  the  onl}'  time  that 
I  ever  heard  him.  His  discourse  was  sensible,  and  contained  many  striking 
observations,  but  I  scarcely  thought  that  it  did  him  justice.  It  was  not  the 
sermon  he  intended  to  preach  wlien  he  entered  the  pulpit,  and  it  did  not  seem 
familiar  to  him.  Candour  requires  me  to  say  that  it  was  delivered  in  a  clumsy 
and  uninteresting  manner.  I  ventured  to  intimate  to  him  that  1  thought  he 
had  bestowed  less  labour  upon  it  than  he  did  upon  the  Memoir  of  Fisher 
Ames.  Affectionately,  DANIEL  WALDO. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ALEXANDER  YOUNG,  D.  D. 

Boston,  September  29,  1848. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  are  quite  right  in  supposing  that  it  is  only  a  labour  of 
love  for  me  to  write  something  about  my  venerable  friend,  the  late  President 
Kirkland.  It  was  my  privilege  to  pursue  my  academical  and  professional 
studies  at  Cambridge  during  his  administration.  It  has  since  been  my 
favoured  lot  to  be  his  successor  in  the  church  where  he  preached  for  sixteen 
years.  The  melancholy  duty  devolved  on  me  to  officiate  at  his  Funeral,  and, 
on  the  Sunday  following,  to  pronounce  his  Eulogy.  As  the  Discourse  deliv- 
ered on  that  occasion  contains  m}''  most  mature  judgment  concernmg  him,  I 
do  not  know  how  I  can  comply  with  your  request  better  than  by  availing  my- 
self of  some  extracts  from  it.  I  shall  not,  however,  attempt  a  thorough 
delineation  of  his  character,  but  only  hint  at  a  few  of  its  more  promment 
features. 

Dr.  Kirkland  was  distinguished  above  any  other  man  whom  I  have  ever 
known  as  an  Ethical  Preacher.  He  possessed  a  thorough,  intimate,  marvellous 
knowledge  of  man.     He  sounded  the  lowest  depths  of  the  soul,  and  searched 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIRKLAND.  271 

its  most  obscure  recesses.  lie  detected  men's  hidden  motives  and  secret 
principles  of  action,  and  dragged  them  forth  to  the  light.  Such  was  his  won- 
derful and  accurate  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  his  clear  insight  into 
the  springs  of  human  action,  that  sometimes,  when  I  have  heard  him  preach, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  he  had  actual!)-  got  his  hand  into  my  bosom,  and  that  I 
could  feel  him  moving  it  about,  and  inserting  his  fingers  into  all  the  interstices 
and  crevices  of  my  heart. 

Dr.  Kirkland  uttered  great  moral  maxims,  and  profound  religious  truths, 
without  any  parade  or  preparation,  without  forewarning  his  hearers  that  he 
was  now  going  to  bring  forward  some  great  thought  or  some  new  view,  ajid 
without  reminding  them  afterwards  that  he  had  done  so.  He  was  apparently 
unconscious  and  careless  of  those  profound  sayings  of  his  which  contained  a 
world  of  practical  wisdom. 

lie  was  remarkable,  too.  for  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  views,  and  the 
universalit}'-  of  his  judgments.  lie  generalized  on  a  large  scale,  and  general- 
ized every  thing,  lie  took  a  broad  and  liberal  view  of  all  subjects,  and  had  a 
world-embracing  philosophy  as  well  as  charitv.  He  could  not  endure  details, 
and  cared  little  for  isolated  facts.  I  never  met  with  a  man,  who,  in  social 
intercourse,  said  so  many  things  worthj^  to  be  remembered,  and  made  so  many 
remarks  that  you  could  not  forget.  His  conversation  was  a  succession  of 
aphorisms,  ma.xims,  general  remarks. 

Dr.  Kirkland's  preaching  was,  like  his  conversation,  sententious  and  full 
of  apothegms.  There  was  not  much  visible  logic,  or  induction,  or  method  in 
his  discourses;  and  it  was  not  uncommon  for  him  to  bring  into  the  pulpit 
half  a  dozen  sermons  or  more,  and,  on  the  instant,  construct  from  their  pages 
a  new  sermon,  as  he  went  along,  turning  the  leaves  backwards  and  forwards, 
connecting  them  together  by  the  thread  of  his  extemporaneous  discourse. 
These  scattered  leaves  resembled  those  of  the  Sybil  not  only  in  their  confu- 
sion, causing  many  to  marvel  how  he  could  marshal  and  manage  them  so 
adroitly,  but  also  in  their  deep  and  hidden  wisdom,  and  in  the  fact  that  when 
two-thirds  of  what  he  had  thus  brought  into  the  pulpit  was  omitted; — thrown 
by  as  unworthy  of  delivery, —  the  remaining  third,  which  he  uttered,  was 
more  precious  than  the  entire  pile  of  manuscript,  containing,  as  it  did,  the 
spirit  and  essence,  the  condensed  and  concentrated  wisdom,  of  the  whole. 
Indeed  condensation  was  his  crowning  faculty.  It  was  here  especiallj'  that 
he  manifested  the  supremacy  of  his  intellect.  He  always  spoke  from  a 
crowded  and  overflowing  mind.  He  poured  himself  forth  in  a  full  stream  of 
thought,  which  evidently  flowed  from  a  living  and  inexhaustible  fountain. 

I  must  say  something  of  Dr.  Kirkland  as  a  man  of  letters  —  and  here  I  am 
ready  to  admit  that  he  was  not  a  very  profound  or  thorough  student.  His 
reading  had  not  been  systematic  but  desultor}''.  He  was  rather  a  general 
scholar  than  deeply  versed  in  any  particular  department.  He  loved  the  light 
and  the  sunshine  of  learning.  He  was  not  a  proficient  in  any  of  the  natural 
or  exact  sciences,  nor  an  adept  in  abstruse  philosophy.  He  was  not  a  mere 
metaphysician,  nor  a  mere  mathematician,  a  logic-mill  or  calculating  machine. 
He  was  no  antiquary  or  geologist, —  no  pedant  or  literary  drudge.  Ent  he 
was  something  more  than  these, — something  far  higher  and  better.  While  he 
was  far  from  being  deficient  in  any  department  of  general  knowledge,  no 
single  subject  had  engrossed  his  attention,  and  monopolized  his  thoughts,  and 
narrowed  and  cramped  his  mind.  He  acquired  his  knowledge  by  intercourse 
and  conversation  with  intelligent  and  learned  men,  more  than  from  books. 
He  had,  too,  the  faculty  of  getting  all  the  good  out  of  a  book,  by  rapidly 
turning  over  its  leaves,  and  running  his  eye  over  its  pages,  without  reading  it 
in  course  from  beginning  to  end.  By  a  sort  of  literary  intuition,  he  seemed  to 
compass  the  meaning  of  the  author. 


272  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

As  President  of  Harvard  College,  Dr.  Kirkland  unquestionably  acquired 
his  highest  distinction;  and  no  brighter  period  has  that  venerable  institu- 
tion ever  seen  than  the  period  of  his  administration.  His  influence  on  the 
students  was  at  once  gentle  and  powerful.  From  the  ver}'  beginning  he  treated 
them  as  young  gentlemen,  and  made  them  regard  him  as  tlieir  friend.  His 
whole  intercourse  with  them  was  suited  to  inspire  them  with  mingled  rever- 
ence and  affection,  and  to  stimulate  them  to  cultivate  that  elegant  literature, 
the  benign  effects  of  which  they  witnessed  in  his  refined  mind,  and  polished 
language,  and  courtly  address.  They  saw  in  him  a  finished  specimen  of  the 
Christian  scholar  and  gentleman.  He  was  uniformly  kind  and  courteous  to 
them,  tempering  his  native  dignity  with  an  urbane  and  delightful  pleasantry. 

Dr.  Kirkland  had  the  happy  gift  of  quickl}^  discerning  the  peculiarities  of 
individual  characters,  and  of  accommodating  himself  to  them.  He  never 
failed  to  recognize  the  countenance  of  a  student,  and  to  address  him  by  name. 
Such  had  been  his  large  intercourse  with  the  world,  and  his  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  leading  men  from  all  parts  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  of  New 
England,  that  a  young  man  could  hardly  come  to  the  College  with  whom  the 
President  could  not,  at  his  first  interview,  converse  familiarly  about  his 
friends  and  relatives.  Such  notices  were  gratifying  to  the  feelings  and  encour- 
aging to  the  heart  of  the  student,  who  had  just  left  the  protection  of  his 
father's  roof,  perhaps  for  the  first  time,  and  felt  himself  among  strangers  at 
Cambridge.  And  many  a  young  man  was  prevented  from  leaving  College 
■with  his  education  unfinished,  by  the  timely  and  generous  charity  which  he 
imparted.  Whilst  Dr.  Kirkland  had  a  dollar  in  his  pocket,  it  was  ever  at 
the  command  of  the  poor  Cambridge  scholar;  and  if,  when  he  retired  from 
the  Presidency,  he  was  a  poor  man  himself,  it  was  because,  instead  of  hoard- 
ing his  ample  salary,  as  some  would  have  done,  and  as  he  might  have  done 
without  blame,  he  poured  it  out  like  water  to  aid  the  necessitous. 

The  consequence  of  this  was  that  the  affection  which  the  students  cherished 
towards  him  was  almost  without  a  limit.  In  the  various  disturbances  and 
collisions  between  the  students  and  the  Government,  which  occurred  during 
his  administration,  no  one,  either  by  word  or  deed,  ever  insulted  the  Presi- 
dent. They  treated  him  with  universal  respect,  though  he  was  the  organ  of 
the  obnoxious  measures  which  they  resisted.  And  he  did  not  gain  this  uni- 
versal popularity  by  any  shuffling  or  shrinking  from  duty, —  by  thrusting  the 
inferior  officers  of  the  College  between  himself  and  the  rebellious  host,  to 
take  the  odium  of  the  measures  and  bear  the  brunt  of  the  battle.  No  —  he 
never  shrunk  from  responsibility.  It  was  by  his  mingled  dignity  and  suavity 
of  deportment,  by  the  entire  confidence  that  was  felt  in  his  integrity  and 
goodness  of  heart,  that  he  was  thus  secured  from  personal  affront.  I  am 
quite  sure  that  the  student  who  should  have  ventured  any  act  of  marked 
disrespect  towards  him  would  have  been  scouted  and  scorned  by  the  whole 
College. 

^  I  might  present  various  other  phases  of  Dr.  Kirkland 's  character,  but  the 
above  will  probably  be  sufficient  for  3'our  purpose. 

With  the  highest  regard,  your  friend  and  brother, 

ALEXANDER  YOUNG. 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIllKLAND.  273 

FROM  THE  REV.  ALVAN  LAMSON,  D.  D.* 

Dkdiiam,  February  14,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  ought  long  ere  this  to  have  replied  to  your  very  kind  and 
flatteiiiig  note.  The  truth  is,  I  liave  been  waiting  in  the  hope  of  summoning 
courage  to  undertake  what  you  request,  or  at  least  of  saying  tiiat  I  will  do  it. 
My  heart,  iiowever,  fails  me.  There  is  no  man  whom  it  is  more  difficult  to 
describe  than  Dr.  Kirkland.  It  is  impc^ssible,  it  seems  to  me,  to  convey  to 
one  who  did  not  know  him  an  adequate  impression  of  what  he  was.  I  vene- 
rated and  loved  him,  as  I  shall  never  venerate  and  love  any  other  man.  He 
had  a  wonderful  affluence  of  intellect,  a  shrewdness,  penetration  and  almost 
intuitive  knowledge  of  character,  united  with  a  genial  temper,  "enlarged  and 
generous  affections,"  (his  own  phrase)  good  humour  and  delicate  and  refined 
taste,  which  rendered  him  the  delight  of  his  friends,  and  won  the  admiration 
and  love  of  all  who  were  privileged  to  enjoy  even  a  casual  intercourse  with 
him.  For  pointed,  condensed  and  brilliant  thought,  clothed  in  the  most  feli- 
citous expression — shall  I  call  it  Horatian  .^ — he  had  few  equals  —  none  I 
ever  knew.  But  I  despair  of  telling  you  what  he  was,  and  therefore  shall 
not  attempt  it.  I  am  very  much  occupied  just  now,  3'et  I  would  try  to  find 
time  to  do  what  you  ask,  but  really  I  cannot.  I  should  do  no  sort  of  justice 
to  the  subject.  I  like  the  plan  of  your  work  much,  and  am  glad  that  Dr. 
Kirkland  is  to  appear  among  your  sketches.  It  is  a  misfortune  that  his 
manuscripts  have  not  been  preserved,  though  even  from  them  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  form  a  due  estimate  of  his  singular  meiits.  To  do  this  one  must 
have  seen  him  and  heard  him  converse.  He  had  a  kingl}^  intellect,  and  to  me 
there  was  a  fascination  about  him  that  was  wholly  irresistible. 

Excuse  me  for  my  delay,  and  believe  me  when  I  say  that  I  cannot  do  what 
YOU  require  — I  cannot  give  you  a  worthy  idea  of  what  Dr.  Kirkland  was. 

Very  truly  yours, 

A.  LAMSON. 

FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  WENTWORTH  UPHAM. 

Salem,  Mass.,  December  14,  1848. 

My  dear  Sir:  President  Kirkland  was  in  office  during  the  period  of  my 
academic  course  as  an  undergraduate  from  1817  to  1821.  After  receiving  my 
degree  as  Bachelor  of  Arts,  I  remained  for  three  years  at  Cambridge,  pursuing- 
my  professional  studies,  and  enjojung  an  almost  daily  intimacy  with  him,  in 
the  delightful  family  circle  of  which  he  was  a  member,  that  of  Professor  Far- 
rar.  I  feel  myself  competent,  so  far  as  opportunities  of  observation  are  con- 
cerned, to  speak  of  him  with  confidence.  His  intellectual  and  moral  portrait 
is  as  bright  and  clear  before  my  mind,  as  the  aspect  of  his  countenance,  the 
tones  of  his  voice,  and  his  personal  appearance  and  deportment,  are  upon  my 
memory. 

In  compliance  with  your  request,  I  will  attempt,  in  as  short  compass  as 
possible,  to  present  a  descriptive  picture  of  the  man.  His  person  was  of  mid^ 
die  height,  and  of  full  dimensions,  indicative  of  an  excellent  constitution,  a 
healthful  condition,  and  a  happy  temperament;  but  not  too  full  for  either 
grace  or  dignity.  His  complexion  was  fair,  fresh  and  blooming  to  the  last  — 
his  countenance  perfectly  benignant,  and  radiant  with  cheerfulness  and  intel- 
ligence. His  articulation  of  voice  and  general  habit  of  speaking,  in  private 
conversation  and  in  public  discourse,  often  had  an  air  of  ease  and  indolence, 

•  This  brief  letter,  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lamson,  though  designed  only  to  express  his  sense 
of  inability  to  do  what  I  had  requested  of  him,  nevertheless  brings  out,  with  so  much  felicity,, 
some  of  the  prominent  traits  of  Dr.  Kirkland's  character,  that  I  could  not  forbear  asking- 
him  to  allow  me  to  use  it  in  connection  with  this  sketch;  and  he  has  kindly,  though  some- 
what reluctantly,  given  his  consent. 

Vol.  VIII.  18 


274  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

which  would  have  amounted  to  almost  a  disagreeable  indication  of  inertness 
and  sluggishness,  had  it  not  been  for  the  inner  current  of  wisdom,  genius, 
wit,  and  vivacitj^  which  gleamed  through  his  words  and  sentences,  and  gave 
to  his  whole  manner  an  exquisite  and  unrivalled  charm.  It  was  strength 
without  effort.  Philosophy  and  eloquence,  sense  and  humour,  flowed  spon- 
taneously from  his  lips,  and  what  in  other  men  was  the  laborious  product  of 
mental  toil,  in  him,  was  the  unconscious  pastime  of  his  faculties. 

The  beautiful  symmetry  of  his  original  genius,  the  benignity  of  his  spirit, 
the  felicit}--  of  his  temperament,  the  inherent  balance  and  mutual  adaptation 
of  his  mental  powers  and  moral  sentiments,  as  well  as  his  just  discrimination 
of  men  and  things,  and  acquired  practical  wisdom,  imparted  to  his  appear- 
ance and  deportment  the  best  effect  of  the  highest  polish  and  the  most  finished 
training.  lie  was,  by  nature  as  well  as  by  culture,  a  true  and  perfect  gentle- 
man; and  from  the  first,  in  all  companies,  whether  conversing  with  the 
rudest  labourer  or  moving  through  the  spheres  of  the  most  artificial  cereniou}' 
or  fashionable  etiquette,  in  the  society  of  the  poor  and  lowly  or  amid  the 
magnificence  of  the  rich,  or  the  pomp  of  the  great,  there  was  a  native  and 
involuntary  grace  and  ease  in  his  bearing,  most  striking,  most  admirable,  and 
most  delightful. 

President  Kirkland  was  a  thoroughly  educated  and  accomplished  scholar, 
with  that  universal  reading  which  placed  him,  under  all  circumstances,  on 
vantage  ground,  and  gave  to  his  genius  and  wisdom  a  favourable  opportunity 
to  display  themselves,  whatever  the  topic,  and  whoever  else  might  share  in 
the  discussion.  But  the  subject  that  he  had  studied  more  than  all  others, 
and  in  which  he  shone  pre-eminently  above  his  contemporaries,  was  human 
nature.  He  had  studied  it  in  books  as  M'ell  as  in  life.  The  department  of 
literature  in  which  he  most  delighted,  was  that  including  works  on  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  mind,  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  the  passions,  propensities,  affec- 
tions and  attributes  of  man.  Of  the  motives  of  human  action,  and  the  traits 
of  human  character,  he  had  mastered  the  mj'steries  and  exhausted  the 
science.  Whoever  conversed  much  with  him  found  that,  in  addition  to  the 
keenest  observation  practised  during  his  whole  life,  in  the  uncommonly 
auspicious  circumstances  of  his  social  and  official  positions,  he  had  digested, 
and  was  ever  ready  to  make  practical  application  of,  the  speculations,  com- 
ments and  suggestions  of  all  ethical,  metaphysical  and  philosophical  writers. 

He  extracted  wisdom  from  books  as  much  as  other  learned  men,  but  more 
than  all  others  he  sought  it  from  societ}''.  AYhile  minister  of  a  large  metro- 
politan parish,  and  during  his  Presidency  of  the  Universit}'',  he  was  in  the 
dail)'  habit  of  mingling  in  familiar  converse  with  associates  and  acquaint- 
ances; and  the  circle  of  friendship,  gathered  around  the  hospitable  board,  or 
the  public  festival,  was  never  thought  to  possess  its  crowning  grace  and 
attraction,  unless  he  was  present  to  invoke  a  blessing  from  above,  and  irra- 
diate the  scene  with  the  light  of  his  beneficent  wisdom  and  genial  humour. 

The  salutary  influences  he  exerted  upon  others,  and  the  benefits  he  derived 
(o  his  own  moral  and  intellectual  nature,  in  the  so:;ial  sphere,  which  he  filled 
to  such  a  remarkable  degree,  were  altogether  incalculable.  It  was  in  this 
field  mainly  that  he  acquired  and  exerted  a  persoual  consideration,  great 
laeyond  parallel  and  beyond  precedent.  From  the  social  circle  he  diffused  an 
enli<:htcned  liberality  into  the  prevalent  sentiment  of  Boston  and  New  Eng- 
land, the  results  of  which  are  still  seen  in  a  generous  public  spirit,  fostering 
ati  good  institutions  of  learning  and  humanity. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  his  public  life,  while  minister  of  the  New  South 
Society  in  Bo-ston,  he  attained  to  this  striking  ascendency  and  commanding 
position  among  the  leading  minds  of  the  community.  At  that  time,  the  Boston 
churches  were  illuminated  by  a  constellation  of  great  preachers  —  among  whom 


JOHN  THORNTON  KIRKLAND.  275 

were  Buckminster,  of  learning  most  precocious,  rare  and  wonderful,  and 
of  eloquence  and  genius  all  but  angelic,  and  Channing,  whose  fame  spread 
■R-ide  to  the  last,  but  whose  heaven-breathing  instructions  were,  from  the 
beginning,  fraught  with  as  much  interest  and  power  over  his  hearers  as  were 
afterwards  felt  and  confessed  by  a  listening  world.  Dr.  Kirkland  could  never 
have  been  called  an  orator  —  he  was  indeed  verj'  far  from  it  —  his  defects  of 
manner  would  have  been  much  felt  and  criticised,  had  the  matter  of  his  dis- 
courses been  less  striking  and  valuable.  He  made  no  attempts  to  impress  the 
public  with  admiration  or  veneration.  Neither  in  the  pulpit,  nor  out  of  it, 
did  he  do  any  thing  to  get  up  a  professional  reputation,  but  still,  in  the  midst 
of  such  contemporaries  as  have  been  mentioned,  by  the  weighty  import  of  his 
instructions,  the  peculiar  benignity  of  his  sentiments,  the  happy  turn  of  his 
thoughts,  the  frequent  felicit}'  of  his  expressions,  and  the  profound  philoso- 
phy of  his  views,  as  a  Preacher,  and  by  the  constant  and  all  pervading  effects 
of  his  social  powers,  he  maintained  a  steady  and  acknowledged  pre-eminence. 

Ills  Presidency  over  Harvard  University,  covering  a  period  of  eighteen 
years,  will  ever  be  regarded  as  a  palmy  and  brilliant  era  in  the  history  of 
that  venerable  seat  of  learning.  The  liberality  of  his  spirit,  and  the  charming 
courtesy  of  his  manners,  conciliated  to  its  support  innutnerable  patrons  in  the 
vaiious  and  even  most  distant  portions  of  the  country,  and  opened  the  foun- 
tains of  private  and  public  beneficence,  thus  enlarging  its  sphere  and  multi- 
plying its  resources-  He  presided  with  graceful  ease  over  the  academic  festi- 
vals and  exercises,  and  the  internal,  educational  and  disciplinary  administration 
of  the  College.  His  unrivalled  knowledge  of  human  nature  was  displayed 
most  signally,  and  brought  into  use  with  extraordinary  advantage,  in  his 
intercourse  with  the  scholars.  They  very  soon  discovered  that  he  could  riot 
be  imposed  upon,  and  tiiat,  however  specious  their  pretences,  or  skilfully 
disguised  their  schemes  and  motives,  he  saw  through  them  at  a  glance.  At 
tlie  same  time,  their  confidence  and  afFection  were  secured,  and  their  grateful 
admiration  awakened  and  kept  alive,  by  the  enlightened  forbearance,  the  un- 
failing good-humour,  and  the  even,  kind  and  gentle  spirit  with  which  he 
treated  them.  While  he  kept  the  tendencies  to  gayety  incident  to  the  years 
of  those  committed  to  his  charge,  within  the  bounds  of  decency,  propriety  and 
the  academic  laws,  it  was  known  to  all  that  his  cheerful  and  loving  heart  sym- 
pathized with  every  innocent  enjoyment,  and  regarded  his  youthful  charge,  even 
when  misled  by  thoughtlessness  or  ensnared  by  folly,  not  with  uncompromis- 
ing severity,  but  with  the  considerateness  and  charitableness  which  the  recol- 
lection of  its  own  early  days  ever  ought  to  mingle  with  the  soberest  judgments 
of  advanced  life;  and  when  punishments  became  necessary,  they  weie  admin- 
istered with  a  reluctant  and  compassionate  sensibility,  which  invariably  pro- 
duced a  deep  impression  upon  the  offender,  and  kindled  in  his  breast  a  response 
of  filial  respect  and  love,  even  at  the  moment  when  incurring  the  heaviest 
penalties. 

1  might  relate  many  instances  of  Dr.  Kirkland's  marvellous  penetration 
into  character  and  motives,  and  of  the  felicitous  manner  in  which  he  brouglit 
it  to  bear  in  the  government  of  the  College  —  I  will  mention  only  the  follow- 
ing: A  youth  of  amiable  sentiments  and  excellent  purposes,  under  the 
intinence  of  peculiar  temptation,  was  induced,  on  a  certain  occasion,  to  Axil 
in  with  the  equivocal  etliics  prevalent  in  such  communities.  A  public  ball  was  ' 
about  to  "  come  off"  in  the  town  to  which  he  belonged,  presenting  attractions 
so  resistless  that  he  was  determined,  at  all  events,  to  be  there.  He  waited 
upon  the  President,  and  represented  that  the  state  of  his  health  required  him 
to  suspend  his  studies  and  return  to  his  family.  This  is  an  expedient  often 
resorted  to  in  all  small  societies,  but  his  better  nature  bore  an  inward  and 
silent  protest  against  the  artitice,  even  at  the  moment  when  practising  it.    The 


276 


UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


penetrating  eye  of  the  President  detected  the  secret  embarrassment  which  a 
sense  of  guilt  was  revealing,  while  the  pretended  invalid  was  flattering  him- 
self with  the  belief  that  he  was  acting  his  part  with  complete  success.  Upon 
hearing  the  statement  of  the  symptoms  of  his  indisposition,  the  President, 
readily,  and  in  tiie  pleasantest  and  most  complying  manner,  took  a  pen,  wrote 
the  desired  leave  of  absence,  and,  as  he  handed  it  to  him,  observed,  "  Physi- 
cians have  remarked  this  peculiarity  in  the  climate  of  Cambridge, —  that  sick- 
ness :s  prevail,  within  thi  precincts  of  the  College,  in  a  grdatdr  proportion  to 
the  deaths  than  in  any  other  place." — This  was  said  with  a  smile  so  signiti- 
cant,  and  a  look  so  keen,  as  to  leave  no  alternative  to  the  moititied  youth, 
but  to  escape  as  soon  as  possible  from  the  presence  before  which  he  stood  con- 
victed, and  to  hide  his  head  in  confusion  and  shame.  The  brilliant  scenes  of 
the  ball-room,  the  dazzling  whirl  of  the  dance,  could  not  obliterate  the  lesson 
he  had  received,  and  he  returned  to  College,  resolved  never  to  resort  to  pre- 
varication or  deception  to  compass  an  end,  and  especially  never  to  attempt 
again  to  impose  upon  the  President. 

In  his  administration  of  the  religious  services  of  the  University,  President 
Kirkland  kept  the  universal  niind  of  the  College,  from  the  youngest  students 
to  the  most  learned  Professors,  constantly  alive  to  a  just  appreciation  of 
his  intellectual  powers,  of  the  brilliancy  of  his  genius,  and  the  stores  of  his 
wisdom.  The  manuscripts  of  his  sermons,  and  especially  his  occasional  ills- 
courses  and  valedictory  addresses  to  gi'aduating  classes,  will  be  found  to  con- 
tain passages  of  exquisite  beauty  and  richness,  and  trains  of  reasoning  and 
philosophy,  with  comments  upon  life,  manners  and  literature,  of  priceless 
value.  A  considerable  number  of  Sermons  at  Ordinations  and  other  special 
and  public  occasions,  and  fugitive  pieces  of  various  kinds,  are  memorials  of  his 
talents  and  attainments.  But  his  chief  monument  is  the  Memoir  of  Fisher 
Ames.  Within  a  brief  compass  it  embraces  treasures  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion that  render  it  a  classical  and  immortal  performance.  No  brighter  genius 
has  risen  upon  our  country,  no  purer  name  shines  on  its  annals,  than  Fisher 
Ames.  His  Speech  on  the  British  Treaty  has  surely  never  been  surpassed, — 
I  feel  justified  in  sa^'ing  that  it  has  never  been  equalled, —  in  the  history  of 
Congressional  eloquence.  The  Memoir  by  Dr.  Kirkland  maintains  a  similar 
ascendency  in  the  department  of  Biography. 

In  conclusion,  I  would  express  the  opinion  that,  in  the  whole  range  of  litera- 
ture, the  writer  who  most  nearly  resembles  him  in  the  nature  of  his  genius, 
and  the  traits  and  habits  of  his  mind,  is  Abraham  Tucker.  His  writings  were 
much  studied  and  admired  by  Dr.  Kirkland.  Whoever  reads  the  "  Light  of 
Nature  Pursued,"  feels  that  it  is  the  most  instructive  and  delightful  of  all 
"works  of  its  class.  Those  who  remember  the  society  and  the  discourses  of 
Dr.  Kirkland,  also  feel  that  he  was  the  most  instructive  and  deliglitful  of 
teachers.  The  English  and  the  American  philosophers  were  each  truly 
deserving  of  that  name,  for  their  wisdom  was  equalled  only  by  their  benignity. 

Yours  very  truly, 

CHARLES  W.  UPHAM. 

FROM  THE  REV.  WILLIAM  AUGUSTUS  STEARNS,  D.  D. 

PRESIDENT    OP    AMHERST    COLLEGE. 

Amherst  College,  June  5,  1857. 

My  dear  Sir:  It  did  not  occur  to  me  when  I  was  carelessly  relating  an  anec- 
dote or  two  of  the  late  President  Kirkland,  some  weeks  since,  at  your  cheer- 
ful hearthstone,  that  you  might  demand  these  reminiscences  for  your  de6ply 
interesting  and  instructive  volumes.  But  as  I  have  no  good  excuse  for  refusing 
to  comply  with   your  wishes,  so  courteously  and   kindly  expressed,  or  for 


JOHN  THORNTON  KIRKLAND.  277 

-witbliolding  anj  knowledge  in  m)^  possession  which  might  serve  to  illustrate 
and  adorn  the  character  of  a  gentleman  whom  I  have  so  greatl}^  venerated 
and  loved,  I  shall  proceed  to  give  you  a  few  recollections  of  him,  though  some 
of  them  are  more  personal,  as  respects  m3self,  than  I  am  quite  willing  to 
obtrude  upon  the  public. 

I  entered  Harvard  College  at  the  Annual  Commencement  in  1823.  At  this 
time  Dr.  Kirkland  appeared  to  me  as  a  highly  cultivated  literary  gentleman, 
of  graceful  manners,  dignified  bearing,  and  a  bland  and  almost  fa.scinating 
countenance.  lie  was  considerably  past  the  middle  age,  the  top  of  his  head 
nearly  bald,  the  bushy  side- locks  almost  white,  rather  short  in  stature,  a 
little  inclined  to  corpulency,  though  not  gro.ss,  of  firm  step,  quick  and  lively 
eye,  round,  full  Hice,  fresh  complexion,  and  an  expression  which  indicated  a 
genial,  generous  nature,  somewhat  carele.ss  of  self,  but  well-disposed  towanhs 
all  his  fellow-men.  The  moment  a  student  saw  him,  he  respected  him,  feared 
him,  loved  him,  and  gave  him  a  large  measure  of  his  confidence.  During  the 
entire  four  years  of  ni}'  residence  at  Cambridge,  I  never  knew  of  liis  being 
treated  with  the  slightest  disrespect  by  any  member  of  College. 

No  one  who  knew  Dr.  Kirkland  would  question  the  soundntss  of  his  judg- 
ment, the  brilliance  of  his  genius,  when  called  into  action,  or  the  elegance  of 
his  scholarship  in  the  depaitment  of  arts  and  letters.  He  was  thought  by  the 
students  to  have  a  ver^'  keen  insight  into  character,  and  no  one,  without  a 
pretty  good  conscience,  liked  to  encounter  his  piercing  e^'e.  He  would  not 
look  at  you  steadily  with  apparent  intention  to  read  you,  but  with  aa 
almo.st  indifferent  hasty  glance  or  two,  liy  which,  howevei-,  he  learned  to 
gather  mateiial  enough  for  just  conclusions.  If  a  student,  wishing  '<  to  get 
his  name  out,"  as  the  expression  for  leave  of  absoice  then  wa.s,  multiplied 
reasons  for  the  favotir,  he  was  almost  certain  to  be  refused.  If  he  wislied  to 
go  home  «<  becau.se  his  father  was  sick,"  or  "  because  his  sister  was  a  going  to 
be  married,"  or  "  because  his  eyes  had  failed  him,"  or  for  any  other  une  good 
reason,  he  was  likely  to  obtain  his  request.  But  if  he  wished  to  go  "  because 
he  was  quite  unwell,"  and  "  because  he  wished  to  get  some  clothing,"  and  "  be- 
cause his  brother  was  going  abroad  and  he  wished  to  see  him  once  moie  before 
he  saile<l,"  «S:c.,  it  was  hardly  probable  that  the  young  man's  heart  would  be 
cheered  by  the  benevolent  response, — "  You  can  go." 

President  Kirkland  u.sed  to  anume  him.self  sotnetimes  at  the  expense  of  the 
students,  especiallv  when  they  called  and  happened  to  find  him  at  leisure, 
soon  after  dinner;  for,  lieing  a  good  liver,  though  temperate,  he  was  cheerful 
after  meals.  On  one  such  occasion,  I  called  at  his  study  to  obtain  leave  of 
absence  a  few  days  before  the  term  clo-sed.  He  hesitated  and  made  sundry 
inquiries.  He  knew  also  the  character  of  my  religious  education  and  predi- 
lections. At  length,  <■  inoving  upon  me  in  the  line  of  ni}^  "  supposed  •'  preju- 
dices," he  said,  "  I  don't  know,  Stearns,  about  letting  you  go  now.  Psrhaps 
no  evil  would  come  of  it,  but  I  don't  know  what  might  be  the  consequences. 
You  know  that  there  is  a  special  providence.  I  once  heard  of  a  person,  who 
was  going  along  by  a  tree,  when  some  men  were  cutting  it  down,  and  just  as 
he  went  by,  the  tree  suddenly  fell  and  killed  him.  Now  there  was  a  special 
providence  in  it.  If  he  had  gone  a  little  before  or  a  little  after,  he  would 
have  been  safe,  but,  going  just  as  he  did,  he  lost  his  life."  I  looked  at  him, 
and  saw  there  was  fun  in  his  eye,  and  thought  he  would  not  be  otfende  1  by 
an  answer  in  kind,  "  AVell  Sir,"  said  I,  with  the  utmost  solemnity,  "  if  you 
think  there  will  be  danger  in  my  going  just  at  the  time  I  have  mentioned,  I 
can  go,  if  you  please,  a  littlj  bfon."  "  Well,  well,  Stearns,"  said  he  "  so 
you  can  —  there  is  something  in  that  —  you  may  go,  you  may  go." 

Of  his  benevolence  I  once  had  personal  experience.  It  was,  I  think,  in  my 
Sophoiirore  year.    My  father  was  a  clergyman,  with  a  large  family  and  a  small 


278  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

salary,  and  could  do  but  little  to  help  his  sons  through  College  besides  furnish- 
ing their  clothing  and  paying  some  of  their  incidental  expenses.  I  liad  two 
term  bills  against  me  on  the  College  Books,  and  knew  of  no  way  in  which  I 
could  pay  them.  My  father  offered  me  his  name  to  hire  money  with,  but  I 
"was  unwilling  to  take  it,  as  I  knew  that  he  was  embarrassed  already,  and 
that  the  incurring  of  fuither  liabilities  would  trouble  hiu).  He  then  advised 
me  to  ajjply  to  the  Education  Society  for  help,  but,  for  reasons  then  existing 
in  my  own  mind,  I  could  not  think  of  it.  No  mode  of  relief  seemed  to  pre- 
sent itself  but  to  leave  College,  and  teach  school  for  a  year.  I  went  to  Presi- 
dent Kirkland,  and  told  him  freely  my  circumstances,  and  asked  his  advice  as 
to  leaving  College  immediately.  lie  heard  my  story  in  silence,  and  then  sat 
down  to  his  table  and  wrote  a  note.  '<  Here,"  said  he,  "  take  this  to  the 
Treasurer  and  go  about  your  studies."  It  proved  to  be  an  order  for  the  com- 
plete cancelling  of  both  my  bills.  Whether  the  expen.se  came  from  his  own 
purse  or  not  I  never  knew.  He  was  certainly  benevolent  enough  for  such  an 
act.  But,  as  his  means  were  small,  he  may  have  advanced  this  sum  from 
funds  placed  in  his  hands  by  generous  individuals  for  such  purposes.  Of  this 
I  have  no  question, —  if  the  wealthy  and  the  good  could  but  realize  what  a  load 
such  assistance  often  lifts  from  a  young  student's  heart,  and  could  they  see 
Avhat  I  now  see  every  da}',  noble  young  men  struggling  against  poverty  for 
an  education,  often  disheartened  and  sometimes  crushed  by  their  embarrass- 
ments,—  ample  means  of  relief  could  not  fail  to  be  furnished. 

Of  Dr.  Kirkland,  as  a  Preacher,  I  have  a  vivid  recollection.  I  always 
attended  closely  to  his  sermons,  and,  as  elegant  productions,  full  of  wise  and 
sententious  remarks,  expressed  with  inimitable  beauty,  they  charmed  me. 
Ills  sentences  were  generally  short,  often  antithetic,  terse  and  to  the  point, 
but  seemingly  mixed  and  not  manifestly  consecutive.  He  appeared  to  me,  in 
some  of  his  discourses,  as  a  great  writer  of  proverbs,  second  only  to  Solomon. 
It  was  humorously  said  that  he  wrote  his  sermons  on  the  backs  of  old  letters, 
and  fitted  them  as  he  went  along.  What  he  said  of  Fisher  Ames,  in  the 
incomparable  biography  of  that  distinguished  statesman,  would  apply  well  to 
his  own  style:  "He  aimed  rather  at  the  terseness,  strength  and  vivacity  of 
the  short  sentence  than  the  dignity  of  the  full  and  flowing  period.  His  style 
is  conspicuous  for  sententious  brevity,  antithesis  and  point.  Single  ideas 
appear  with  so  much  lustre  and  prominence  that  the  connection  of  the  several 
parts  of  his  discourse  is  not  always  obvious  to  the  common  mind,  and  the 
aggregate  impi^ession  of  the  composition  is  not  always  completely  obtained. 
In  these  respects,  when  his  peculiar  excellences  come  near  to  defects,  he  is 
rather  to  be  admired  than  imitated." 

Dr.  Kirkland's  discourses  in  the  chapel  were  rarely  controversial,  nor  were 
they,  in  any  considerable  degree,  of  a  sectarian  type.  I  have  heard  him  throw 
out  a  remark  like  this, — '«  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was  now  to  be 
classed  with  the  exploded  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation."  But,  generally, 
so  far  as  I  now  remember,  and  judging  from  my  orthodox  stand  point,  his 
sermons  consisted  of  short  maxims,  brilliant  apothegms,  striking  intimations, 
warnings  or  encouragements,  in  the  department  of  morals,  and  of  special 
practical  benefit  to  students  as  guides  of  life.  What  he  says  of  the  virtuous 
3'oung  man,  in  the  life  of  Ames,  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  sample  of  his  manner 
in  some  of  the  particulars  mentioned.  "  He  does  not  call  dissipation,  enjoy- 
ment, nor  revelry,  mirth.  He  has  begun  to  take  counsel  of  prudence  and 
send  his  thoughts  beyond  the  present  moment;"  and  of  Ames  himself, 
"  Happily  he  did  not  need  the  smart  of  guilt  to  make  him  virtuous,  nor  the 
regret  of  folly  to  make  him  wise."  On  other  subjects,  he  was  often  equally 
concentrated  and  striking.  Speaking  once  of  affliction,  and  of  God's  benevo- 
lence, he  says,  "  Remember  that  the  same  hand  which  darts  the  lightning, 


JOHN  THORNTON  KIRKLAND.  279 

paints  the  rose."  He  would  stand  in  the  pulpit  almost  motionless,  and,  in  a 
careless  manner,  would  throw  these  spaikling  gems  around  him,  seemingly 
unconscious  of  the  hrilliance  they  emitted. 

He  was  not  fond  of  hard  work,  and  has  left  but  few  memorials  of  his  real 
genius.  He  can  hardly  be  appreciated  b}'  posterity,  as  he  was  by  those  who 
knew  him  personally.  I  think  he  had  also  some  defects  of  character  or  of 
training,  particularly  want  of  method,  exactness  and  energy,  in  the  daily 
routine  of  his  duties.  But,  after  all,  he  was,  in  many  respects,  a  model  Presi- 
dent. Perhaps  no  one,  who  ever  held  that  office  in  the  University,  received 
more  perfectly  the  respect  and  love  of  his  pupils. 

President  Kirkland  was  stricken  down  by  paralysis  near  the  close  of  my 
college  course.  Signing  the  diplomas  of  my  class  was,  I  tlnnk,  about  the  last 
service  which  he  performed  for  the  Institution.  He  lived  several  years  after 
this,  but  never  recovered  his  former  vitality  and  brilliance. 

Please  accept  this  hasty  sketch,  and  believe  me  yours  most  cordially, 

WILLIAM  A.  STEARNS. 

FROM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

Boston,  June  3,  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  first  impulse  was  to  say  'Yes,'  when  you  asked  me  for 
my  reminiscences  of  Dr.  Kirkland;  for  I  felt  as  if  my  heart's  tribute  were 
due  to  him  on  any  opportunit3^ 

I  became  acquainted  with  him  in  1822,  when,  juat  entering  upon  my  pro- 
fession of  teaching,  I  went  to  Boston,  and  was  taken,  by  favour,  to  board  in  a 
private  family,  where  he  had  boarded  when  he  was  the  Pastor  of  the  Second 
Church  in  Boston,  and  where  he  always  had  a  room  and  welcome  home  in 
vacation  times.  His  lovely  disposition  and  temper  was  shown  in  the  imme- 
diate interest  he  took  in  teaching  my  ignorance  of  the  world  in  general,  and 
of  Boston  in  particular,  by  his  larger  experience  of  these  scenes  of  his  past 
and  my  future  duties. 

He  talked  to  me  largely  of  the  history  and  the  characteristics  of  families. 
His  mode  of  considering  character  with  a  view  to  always  help  out  what  was 
beautiful  and  good,  and  check  what  was  foolish  and  evil,  was  brought  out  in 
his  conversation  upon  the  society  about  us,  so  that  it  was  robbed  of  the 
character  of  gossip,  while  it  dwelt  constantly  on  individualities,  and  helped 
me  to  such  a  perception  of  these  as  would  facilitate  my  beneficent  activity 
among  them.  There  was  nothing  keener  than  his  diamond  wit;  but  though, 
like  the  sunshine,  it  revealed  the  limitations  of  every  thing,  it  was  so  per- 
vaded with  love  that,  like  the  sunshine,  it  cherished  every  germ  of  life  into 
its  most  perfect  expression,  covering  the  granite  ugliness  of  nature  with  the 
green  beauty  of  Charity.  Dr.  Kirkland  did  not  need  to  ignore  the  evil  that 
existed,  or  exaggerate  the  good,  in  order  to  overflow  with  kindness;  and  his 
kindness  was  unconsciously  exercised,  and  never  seemed  to  remember  itself. 
His  benevolence  was  like  the  geniality  of  Shakespeare's  genius,  which  does 
justice  with  loving  fidelity  to  all  forms  of  existence.  But  instead  of  disqui- 
sition, let  me  tell  instances. 

Very  earlj^  in  our  acqaintance,  he  asked  me  if  I  knew  of  a  person  who' 
wanted  a  good  chamber  girl  or  nurse,  and  then  told  me  of  a  washer-woman  hC' 
had  used  to  employ,  when  living  in  Boston,  who  had  just  died,  and  left  to  hia 
care  her  daughters,  whom  she  had  supported,  and  kept  at  home,  very  retired,  as 
sempstresses,  while  she  went  out  to  work  herself.  And  this  was  for  the  sake- 
of  keeping  them  from  evil  company.  Said  he,  <•'  I  have  admired  her  motherly 
devotion,  and  so  have  been  delinquent  in  not  foreseeing  this  future  necessity  of 
their's.  It  would  have  been  better  if  I  had  advised  her  to  put  them  to  service, 
while  she  was  alive  to  watch  and  warn  them.     Now,"  said  he,  •'  if  you  hear 


280  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

of  ixuy  persons  who  may  serve  as  their  mistresses,  you  can  perhaps  find  out 
something  of  their  pedigree  and  relationships;  for  I  know  almost  every  body 
by  some  of  their  connections."  I  had  occasion,  in  answering  this  demand  of 
his,  to  tell  him  of  several  persons,  and  there  was  not  one  whose  character 
and  temper  he  did  not  analyze  with  reference  to  their  probably  wise  and  con- 
siderate treatment  of  these  young  people,  whose  virtue  and  hapi)iness  seen;ed 
equally  his  care  as  if  tliey  had  been  young  princesses.  It  was  tliis  exquisite 
attention  to  individualities  that  made  his  government  of  the  young  men  of 
College  so  genial  and  powerful, —  and  in  the  above  instance,  as  well  as  many 
others  I  could  name,  it  was  evident  that  this  pervading  love  which  lie  mani- 
fested was  no  respecter  of  persons.  Still  I  find  I  can  tell  none  of  the  many 
stories  I  know;  because  his  action  was  so  individual  that  every  case  involves 
a  long  story,  and  many  details,  in  order  to  be  appreciated. 

lie  pervaded  the  large  social  sphere  which  his  abilities  made  for  him  with 
a -subtle  light  and  warmth  of  wisdom  and  love,  that,  as  I  have  already  said, 
was  like  the  simshine.  silent,  impalpable,  but  glorifying  and  cherisliing.  It 
was  his  individuality  to  be  imp^rsotial,  if  that  is  not  a  paradox.  His  |)a.ssions 
were  in  such  perfect  balance,  and  so  little  shadowed  his  reason,  that  one 
would  have  suspected  him  to  be  passionless,  but  for  the  synipathy  and  under- 
standing evinced  in  his  skill  in  not  rousing  them,  or  in  disarming  tiiem  with 
the  lightning  rods  of  his  wit.  The  power  of  his  preaching  ccnisisted  in  that 
delicate  touch  which  innnediatel}'  took  the  mind  to  his  point  of  vision,  and 
enlisted  the  reason  and  imagination  to  the  application  of  principle  to  action. 
His  preaching  was  always  ethical  rather  than  theological.  I  remember  one 
of  his  sermons  began — "  To  think  of  our  duties  and  not  of  our  claims, —  this 
is  at  once  the  secret  of  virtue  and  happiness."  Another  began — "Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  the  way,  the  truth  and  the  life,  to  all  who  believe  in  Iliin, 
gives  us  our  method  in  such  precepts  as  these  " — and  here  followed  the  most 
felicitous  quotations,  occasionall}^  elucidated  by  calling  our  attention  to  the 
circumstances  in  which  the  words  were  spoken.  Another  Sermon  began  — 
"We  have  as  much  piet}'  as  charity,  and  no  more."  Frequently  his  texts, 
which  were  uniforml}''  ethical,  were  repeated  over  again,  in  various  para- 
phrases, showing  the  universality  of  their  application  to  all  spheies  aitd 
degrees  of  human  action  and  condition,  and  involving  an  internal  evidence  of 
their  Divine  inspiration,  by  manifesting  their  exhaustlessness  in  this  respect. 
To  the  well  disposed  and  intellectual  part  of  his  hearers  his  preaching  was 
extremely  interesting — whether  it  was  of  a  kind  to  convert  a  soul,  immersed 
in  evil  passions,  from  the  error  of  its  ways,  is,  to  my  mind,  more  don1)tful. 

The  Doctor's  wit  sometimes  was  satirical,  but  his  arrows  were  never 
poisoned.  Some  persons  said  he  lacked  the  moral  courage  to  deal  hand  and 
hand,  and  face  to  face,  with  evil.  I  think  it  was  not  so  much  lack  of  moial 
courage,  as  a  delicate  personal  modesty,  and  a  genuine  respect  for  a  Cireat 
Presence  that  he  believed  to  exist  within  the  veil  of  every  individual  conscious- 
ness, and  which  he  would  tempt  forth  by  electrical  touches  to  self-respecting 
manifestation.  There  was  not  a  particle  of  the  Pharisee  in  him,  nor  a  M'ord 
of  cant.  lie  had  no  egotism,  and  hence  his  temper  seemed  never  to  be  tried. 
He  was  not  in  the  least  degree  exacting  or  irritable  in  his  temper;  and  hence 
his  dignity  was  beyond  insult,  and  his  power  over  the  young  complete,  wlien- 
ever,  and  as  far  as,  it  was  exerted.  There  v/as  nothing  impertinent  or  med- 
dling in  his  guardianship;  but  it  was  sleepless;  and  to  his  pupils  he  seemed 
to  have  a  sort  of  omniscience  and  ubiquity. 

In  his  lifetime  he  often  expressed  his  horror  of  paralysis.  He  was  in  tlie 
habit  of  visiting,  for  many  years,  a  paralytic  Professor  at  Cambridge,  and 
scarcely  ever  left  him  without  saying, — "  May  I  be  saved  from  this  death  in 
life,  so  much  worse  than  death;"  but  when  this  very  fate  overtook  liim,  he 


JOHN    THORNTON    KIEKLAND.  281 

was  never  heard  to  complain.  In  the  wreck  of  nature,  during  so  many  years, 
when  every  tiling  characteristic  of  his  brilliant  mind  gradually  ftided  out  of 
his  conversation,  a  gentleness,  sweetness,  philosophic  resignation,  remaiued, 
reminding  one  of  Moore's  image  of  th&  vase,  in  which  roses  had  once  been 
distilled : — 

'  You  may  break,  you  may  ruin,  the  vase,  if  you  will; 
'  The  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  round  it  still.' 

After  all,  I  have  given  you  no  reminiscences  of  facts.  I  find  I  cannot  tell 
you  the  details  of  his  kindness  to  myself  even;  for  in  order  to  do  justice  to  its 
genuineness  and  delicacy,  I  should  have  to  give  you  my  own  memoirs  for  the 
time.  Dr.  Kirkland  once  gave  as  a  toast  at  an  Ordination  dinner — "The 
fundamental  doctrine  of  the  Anti-.sectarian  Sect  —  that  goodness  consists  in 
doing  good;"  and  this  vras  so  manifested  in  his  own  ca.se  that  he  could  only 
be  appreciated  by  seeing  him  in  his  relations;  and  to  write  of  these  involves  a 
history  of  every  one  about  him.  The  selfish,  the  cold-hearted,  the  egotisti- 
cal, could  not  know  Dr.  Kirkland:  if  there  was  any  thing,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  he  could  not  estimate,  it  was  malignity — he  lacked  the  key  to 
unlock  that  myster3^ 

I  end  where  Dr.  Lamson  wisely  began* — I  cannot  describe  Dr.  Kirkland, 
as  my  attempt  has  demonstrated.  I  send  you  the  demonstration,  however, 
as  my  eloquent  excuse  for  breaking  my  promise. 

Yours  truly, 

ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 


HEZEKIAH  PACKARD,  D.  D.f 

1793—1849. 

IIezekiah  Packard,  a  son  of  Jacob  and  Dorothy  Packard,  was  bora 
at  North  Bridgewater,  Mass.,  on  tlie  6th  of  December,  1761.  He  was  the 
youngest  of  ten  children.  His  father,  who  was  a  farmer  in  moderate 
circumstances,  died  while  this  son  was  yet  in  his  childliood  ;  but  his  mother 
lived  to  the  age  of  ninety-three,  retaining  her  facullies  till  the  close  of  life, 
and  was  remarkable  for  her  vigorous  sense,  her  strength  of  character,  and 
her  juety.  The  eai-ly  advantages  of  both  his  parents  for  intellectual  culture 
had  been  very  limited,  but  they  were  both  diligent  students  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  regularly  taught  their  children  the  Assembly's  Catechism. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  llevolutionary  War,  in  1775,  though  he 
was  a  mere  stripling,  he  enlisted  as  a  soldier  in  the  army.  At  dilFerent 
times,  he  was  stationed  at  Cambridge,  Bunker  Hill,  Castle  William,  (now 
Fort  Independence,)  New  York,  Providence,  Newport,  &c.  His  connection 
with  the  army  closed  about  the  end  of  the  year  1776  ;  and,  at  that  time, 
he  had  no  other  expectation  tlum  to  settle  down  for  life  as  a  farmer. 

In  1780,  there  was  a  powerful  revival  of  religion  in  his  native  place,  from 
which  he  dated  the  commei:cement  of  his  own  Christian  life.  Of  liis 
experience,  as  connected  with  that  revival,  he  made  the  following  record, 

*  Miss  Peabody  had  read  Dr.  Lamson's  letter  before  her  own  was  written, 
t  Memoir  of  his  Life. — Ms.  from  his  son.  Professor  A.  Packard. 


282  UNITARIAJ^     CONGREGATIONAL. 

wlien   he   was  far   advanced   in   year.s  : — Having  referred   to   a  particular 

meeting,  he  says, — 

''  There  followed  a  remarkable  st^ason  of  refreshing!;  from  tlie  Divine  presence.  More 
than  one  hundred,  I  believe,  united  themselves  to  tlie  church ,  in  the  course  of  a  ftiw 
months,  sn[)i)osi'd  to  be  the  fruits  of  tliat  revival.  And  wliat  I  ought  to  state  and 
ackt)o\vh'dq:e  with  lively  gratitude,  my  own  mind  was  deeply  and  solemnly  imi)ressed. 
I  had,  for  days  and  weeks,  strong  convictions  of  sin.  I  felt  myself  in  a  state  of  alienation 
from  God,  and  exposed  to  awful  ])erdition.  I  was.  indeed,  among  the  number  of"  those 
w!)0  anxiously  and  prayerfully  inrpiired  what  they  must  do  to  be  saved.  And  I  think 
I  may  add,  as  in  the  presence  of  (lod,  that  there  was  a  time  when  the  Divine  justice 
and  rectitude  seemed  to  require  tliat  sucli  a  sinner  sliould  suffer  the  penalties  of  that 
law,  which  is  holy,  just  and  good,  and  be  cut  off  as  a  cuniberer  of  the  grounil.  But, 
glory  to  God,  I  was  si)ared,  ami  was  made  a  hopeful  subject  of  Divine  grace.  I  had 
some  encouraging  evidence  that  God  in  Christ  did  appear  I'or  me  in  mercy.  The  biirden 
of  sin,  which  had  borne  with  oppressive  weight  upon  my  soul,  was  removed,  and  I 
think  I  found  peace  in  believing.  I  did  feel  myself  in  anew  state  of  being.  The 
objects  of  nature  and  the  whole  scene  around  me,  wore  a  smiling  aspect.  Calmness, 
peace  and  serenity,  prevailed  in  my  own  mind;  and  I  wondered  others  were  not  more 
anxious  to  secure  and  enjoy  religion  as  the  one  thing  needful.  And,  although  I  have 
not  lived  according  to  such  views,  exercises  and  ho])es,  I  desii'e  to  look  atnl  rely 
on  Christ,  who  stands  in  the  gaj)  between  the  sinner  and  i^erdition,  and  is  a  powerful 
and  ]irevai1iug  intercessor  at  God's  right  hand.  Through  his  mediation  and  sacrifice, 
and  tlu'ough  the  influence  of  the  Holy  S])irit,  there  is  a  redeeming  power.  And  my 
sole  dependence  for  salvation  is  upon  his  kind  interposition,  atoning  sacrifice  and 
continual  intercessions." 

Though  Mr.  Packard,  at  the  time  of  leaving  the  army,  fully  expected  to 
spend  his  days  on  a  farm,  a  circumstance  occurred  in  1782,  wliich  ohiiged 
him  to  abandon  the  idea,  and  put  him  upon  obtaining  a  collegiate  educa- 
tion. In  making  a  wall,  he  strained  his  arm  at  the  elbow  to  such  a  degree 
as  to  disqualify  him  entirely  for  agricultural  pursuits.  By  reason  of  this, 
he  soon  after  began  to  prepare  for  College,  under  the  instruction  of  the 
Kev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  John  Reed,  of  the  West  Parish  of  Bridgewater.  and 
in  one  year  he  had  gone  through  the  requisite  course  of  study.  He  joined 
the  Freshman  class  at  Cambridge  in  1783,  and  was  graduated  in  1787.  As 
he  had  little  or  no  patrimony,  he  was  obliged  to  avail  himself  of  certain 
privileges  which  were  granted  to  indigent  students,  and  to  teach  a  school 
during  a  part  of  each  winter  ;  but  he  still  maintained  a  high  standing  iu 
his  class. 

The  first  year  after  his  graduation,  he  taught  the  gramtnar— school 
in  Cambridge,  and  the  next  was  an  Assistant  Librarian  in  the  College. 
He  entered  the  Tutorship  in  the  mathematical  department  in  1789,  and 
continued  to  hold  it  four  years.  During  this  period,  his  studies  were 
directed  with  reference  to  the  ministry  ;  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
time,  he  derived  great  advantage  from  the  lectures  and  more  private 
instructions  of  Dr.  Tappan,  who,  in  1792,  was  inaugurated  as  Ilollis 
Professor  of  Theology. 

In   October,  1793,  he   was  ordained  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and 

installed  as  Pastor  of  the   Church  in   Chelmsford,   Mass.     The  next  year 

he  was  married  to  Mary,  daughter  of  the  Bev.  Alpheus  Spring,*  of  Kittery, 

West  parish,  (now  Eliot,)  Me.      She  was  a  lady  of  superior  talents  and  high 

cultivation,  and  presided  in  her  place  over  her  household  with  great  dignity 

and  affection. 

•ALPnEUS  Spring  was  a  native  of  Watertown,  Mass.,  and  was  a  brother  of  Dr.  Marshall 
Spring,  who  was  distinguished  alike  as  a  Physician  and  a  Politician ;  graduated  at  the  College 
of  New  Jersey  in  1766;  was  settled  at  Eliot,  as  colleague  of  the  Rev.  John  Rogers,  June  29, 
1768;  and  died  suddenly  of  a  fever  June  14,  1791.  He  was  much  beloved  by  his  people,  and 
highly  respected  by  his  brethren  in  the  ministry. 


HEZEKIAH    PACKARD.  283 

Mr.  Packard  remained  at  Clieliihsford  between  eight  and  nine  years, 
wlien,  cluetiy  on  account  of  pecuniary  embarrassment,  lie  was  led  to  seek  a 
dismission  from  liis  people.  A  mutual  council  dissolved  his  relation  to 
lliem  ill  July,  1SU2,  and,  in  September  following,  he  was  installed  at 
Wi.-^casset,  Me.,  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  Professor 
Tappaii,  of  Harvard  College. 

After  having  been  at  Wiscasset  three  or  four  years,  he  yielded  to  the 
solicitation  of  several  of  his  friends  to  take  charge  of  a  private  school;  and, 
in  the  course  of  a  short  time,  that  gave  place  to  an  Academy,  of  which  he 
was  I'riiieipal  for  several  years.  The  double  labour  devolved  upon  him  by 
his  seliool  and  his  pari.>h  was  too  severe  a  tax  upon  his  constitution,  and 
brought  upon  him  some  complaints  from  which  he  never  fully  recovered. 
After  he  withdrew  from  the  Academy,  he  opened  a  private  school  in  his 
own  house,  and  fitted  a  largo  number  of  young  men  for  College. 

In  the  year  lb  18,  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
from   Harvard  Ctdlege. 

The  year  18:^8  was  signalized  by  an  extensive  revival  of  religion  at 
Wiscasset,  whicii  resulted  in  a  very  large  addition  to  the  Congregational 
Church.  Mr.  Packard  fully  believed  that  it  was  a  genuine  work  of  the 
Lord,  entered  into  it  with  great  interest,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  reckon 
among  its  subjects  two  of  his  own  children. 

The  same  year  he  was  afflicted  by  the  death  of  his  wife  ;  and,  in  1884, 
by  the  ileath  of  his  youngest  son,  a  promising  youth  of  eighteen,  who  was 
at  that  time  a  memlier  of  the  Junior  class  in  Dowdoin  College.  On  both 
these  occasions,  though  he  showed  himself  a  hearty  mourner,  he  expressed 
the  most  unqualified  resignation  to  tlie  Divine  will. 

Ill  the  spring  of  1830  he  resigned  his  charge  at  Wiscasset.  and  removed 
to  Middlesex  village,  a  part  of  his  former  parish  at  Chelmsford,  where  he 
took  charge  of  a  small  church,  consisting  partly  of  those  who  had  formerly 
been  under  his  pastoral  care.  Here  he  remained  in  much  comfort  six 
years  ;  but,  in  the  autumn  of  1836,  he  was  induced,  chiefly  in  consideration 
of  his  advanced  age  and  increasing  infirmities,  to  relinquish  his  charge,  and 
retire  from  active  labour  altogether.  During  his  remaining  years,  he 
resided  among  his  children,  successively  at  Saco,  Me. ;  Salem,  Mass.  ;  and 
Brunswick,  Me.  ;  making  occasional  visits  to  his  other  children  and  his 
former  parishioners  and  friends. 

In  July,  1848,  he  left  Brunswick  to  make  a  succession  of  visits  to  his 
children  and  friends,  and,  in  the  autumn,  concluded  to  spend  the  ensuing 
•winter  with  a  daughter  in  Salem.  He  was  as  well  as  usual,  except  that  the 
infirmities  of  age  were  gradually  increasing  upon  him.  On  the  8th  of  April, 
1849,  he  had  attended  Divine  service,  and  had  received  the  Communion.  In 
the  evening  he  was  seized  with  a  paroxysm  of  pain,  which  was  repeated 
two  or  three  times  during  the  succeeding  fortnight.  On  the  afternoon  of 
the  Sabbath,  April  22d,  he  suffered,  for  two  hours,  extreme  agony,  and, 
after  that,  continued  gradually  to  sink  in  the  full  possession  of  his  con- 
sciousness, and  in  the  joyful  hope  of  a  better  life,  till  the  25th,  when  he 
breathed  his  last,  having  lived  more  than  eighty-seven  years.  Agreeably  to 
his  own  request,  his  remains  were  removed  to  Wiscasset  for  interment,  and  a 
Sermon  was  preached  on  the  occasion  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Adams,  of  Brunswick. 


284  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Packard's  publications  : — 
The  Plea  of  Patriotism  :  A  Thanksgiving  Sermon  preached  at  Chelms- 
ford, 1795.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Andrew  Beattie, 
[who  was  a  native  of  Chelmsford,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1795  ;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Salisbury, 
June  28,  1797  ;  and  died  March  16,  1801,]  Federal  Republicanism  : 
Two  Fast  Sermons,  preached  at  Chelmsford,  1799.  The  Christian's 
Manual,  12mo.,  1801.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Interment  of  Mrs. 
Betsey  Wood,  1802.  A  Sermon  preached  in  Camden,  Me.,  at  the  Ordina- 
tion of  Thomas  Cochran,  1805.  Two  Sermons  on  Infant  Baptism,  preached 
at  Wiscasset,  about  1815.  Dedicatory  Address  at  the  Opening  of  the 
Female  Academy  in  Augusta,  1816. 

FROM  PROFESSOR  ALPHEUS  S.  PACKARD, 
OF  BowDoix  College. 

BowDOiN  College,  March  10,  1855. 

My  dear  Sir:  At  your  request,  I  will  communicate  my  recollections  and 
impressions  of  my  father's  domestic  and  ministerial  character.  I  shall 
endeavour  to  give  a  true  portraiture  ofhim  in  these  aspects,  making  free  use  of 
the  unpublished  Memoir,  which  M'as  printed  soon  after  his  decease  for  the  use 
of  his  friends. 

I  think  any  one  conversant  with  him  must  have  perceived  that  he  had  strong 
social  affections,  entire  honesty  and  sincerity  of  heart,  the  absence,  in  an 
uncommon  degree,  of  selfishness  a  true  nobleness  of  nature,  all  strengthened 
and  elevated  by  great  earnestness  and  energy  of  character.  Ills  was  a  happy 
home.  With  all  their  hearts  his  childieu  can  join  in  the  expression  used  in 
prayer  at  the  funeral  service,  when  thanks  were  offered  in  their  behalf  that 
they  had  had  such  a  father.  To  this  hour  we  feel  the  influence  of  his  precepts 
and  example.  It  is  our  pleasure  and  pride  to  testify  to  his  constant  and  faith- 
ful watch  over  us  in  childhood  and  youth;  his  thorough  discipline  tempered 
with  love  and  the  lively  and  affectionate  interest  in  our  behalf,  whicli  ever 
followed  us.  There  was  in  him  a  singular  union  of  the  genial,  the  affable, 
inviting  confidence,  and  the  sportive,  with  a  spirit  of  command,  which  secured 
entire  respect  and  prompt  obedience  of  all,  whether  children  or  pupils.  I 
think  that  of  the  many  young  men  wlio  were  members  of  his  family,  as 
private  pupils,  but  one  had  the  impudence  to  treat  him  with  disrespect. 

The  traits  which,  in  combination  with  his  native  dignity  and  his  fine 
manners,  gave  him  marked  influence  in  social  life,  even  to  his  latest  days, 
were  his  cheerful  temperament  and  his  quick  and  active  sympathy.  Although 
familiar  with  trials  from  severe  bodily  infirmities  for  forty  years,  from  afflic- 
tive bereavements,  and  from  narrowness  of  pecuniary  circumstances,  from 
which  he  never  was  exempt,  he  always  bore  a  cheerful  countenance,  ever 
lighting  up  with  a  smile  at  the  call  of  a  fi'iend,  or  the  entrance  even  of  one  of 
the  household.  Ills  native  btioyancj-  of  sjjirit,  combined  .with  habitual  trust 
in  the  providence  of  God,  enabled  him  to  throw  off,  or  bear  cheerfully,  burdens 
grievous  to  most  men.  In  whatever  situation  he  was  he  had  learned  there- 
with to  be  content.  This  was  apparent  in  his  closing  years.  Age  has  the 
prescriptive  right  to  be  somewhat  querulous  and  irritable.  We  could  not  but 
notice,  however,  when  he  was  a  resident  in  our  families,  that  he  was  remark- 
ably free  from  all  such  infirmities.  Within  a  week  of  his  death,  he  invited  a 
caller  at  the  house  to  step  into  his  room,  and  see  '<  the  comfortable  old  man's 

home."     The  late  lion.  Mr.  M ,  of  Boston,  remarked   to  a  friend,  soon 

after  our  father  had  visited  him, — "  Dr.  P.  is  one  of  the  best  philosophers  I  have 


HEZEKIAH    PACKARD.  285 

seen.  He  has  nothing  but  a  paltry  pension  to  depend  upon  for  his  support, 
and  the  care  of  his  children,  who  have  but  little  else  to  bestow,  and  yet  he  is 
as  happy  as  if  the  world  were  at  his  disposal." 

I  alluded  to  his  active  sympathy.  He  always  cherished  a  lively  interest  in 
passing  events,  and  in  those  around  him,  never  secluding  himself,  nor  ever 
seeming  to  feel  too  old  to  meet  and  fulfil  the  claims  of  societ}'^  upon  him.  The 
friends  of  his  youth,  and  most  of  those  of  middle  life,  had  gone;  but  though, 
during  his  last  twelve  years,  his  home  was  with  his  children,  in  their  several 
places  of  residence,  he  formed  new  acquaintances  with  surprising  facility,  read- 
ily imbibed  the  sympathies  of  the  community  in  which  he  lived,  participated, 
so  far  as  infirmities  would  permit,  in  all  schemes  of  good,  mourned  with  those 
that  mourned,  and  rejoiced  with  those  that  rejoiced,  and  was  a  pattern  to  all 
in  his  observance  of  the  minor  obligations  and  duties  which  contribute  so 
largely  to  the  happiness  of  social  life.  Few  have  gone  down  to  the  grave,  at 
his  age,  with  so  many  personal  fi'iends. 

He  was  of  a  true  public  spirit.  He  was  an  originator  of  the  Bible  Society  of 
Lincoln  County,  Me.,  and  of  the  Eastern  Evangelical  Society,  which  existed  for 
a  few  years.  His  desire  to  promote  the  cause  of  Education,  and  to  benefit  the 
joung,  led  him  to  send  to  England  for  documents  relating  to  Lancasterian 
Schools,  so  much  celebrated  at  the  time,  and  also  those  relating  to  Sunda}'^- 
Schools,  of  which  interesting  accounts  had  reached  this  country.  This  was 
several  years  before  they  were  attempted  among  ourselves.  The  cause  of 
Education,  especiall}''  in  its  moral  and  religious  aspects,  from  first  to  last, 
enlisted  his  energies.  He  loved  the  young.  For  nearly  fift}'  years,  he  was 
connected  with  various  literary  institutions  in  their  Boai'ds  of  Trust.  He  was 
member  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  and  Overseers  of  Bowdoin  College  more  than 
twenty  years,  and  much  of  the  time  was  actively  engaged  in  the  work  of 
traiiung  youth,  in  which  he  was  eminently  successful.  From  the  day  of  his 
admission  to  the  University  to  the  close  of  his  life,  he  was  a  college  man, 
always  glowing  with  youtliful  interest  in  college  scenes,  reminiscences  and 
attachments.  I  doubt  whether  any  3'oung  man  ever  fell  into  his  company 
without  receiving  from  his  lips  a  word  to  encouiage  liim  in  the  path  of 
diligence  and  virtue.  He  alwa3's  took  notice  even  of  children;  and,  but  a  few 
days  before  his  death,  he  reuuirked  to  a  friend  in  Salem  that  even  the  children 
in  the  street  met  him  with  a  smile.  I  shall,  however,  refer  to  his  active 
labours  in  the  cause  of  Education  in  another  connection. 

As  it  regards  his  character  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  I  am  confident  that  all 
who  knew  him,  and  who  saw  him  in  his  most  unguarded  hours,  would  bear 
their  testimony  cordiall}'  to  the  general  statement  that  his  daily  walk  was 
never  at  variance  with  his  public  and  more  formal  life.  It  is  nearly  twenty 
yeais  since  he  ceased  from  active  labour.  It  is  well  known  that  tlie  scheme 
of  pastoral  duty,  during  a  large  portion  of  his  ministry,  differed  in  many 
particulars  from  that  of  later  years.  Meetings  for  conference  and  prayer  were 
not  common.  Seasons  of  special  religious  interest  were  scarcely  known.  The 
different  associations  for  increasing  and  extending  the  influence  of  the  Gospel, 
which  signalize  the.  present  day,  and  multiply  so  much  the  demands  on  the 
time  and  effort  of  the  clergy,  had  not  been  formed.  Monthly  Concerts  of 
Prayer  had  not  been  established.  The  stated  labours  of  the  pulpit,  lectures  in 
different  parts  of  the  parish,  pastoral  visits  and  special  care  of  public  schools 
and  higher  seminaries  of  learning,  constituted  the  field  of  labour  to  which  the 
Pastor  was  called.  The  minister,  moreover,  was  expected  to  exert  a  more 
direct  influence  in  the  general  concerns  of  his  people  than  would  be  permitted 
now.  For  this  wide  range  of  duty  my  father  was  peculiarly  fitted  by  the 
traits  of  character  I  have  mentioned.  He  entered  on  the  labours  of  the 
ministry  with  all  his  heart,  and  with  a  high  standard  of  duty.     To  say  nothing 


286  UMTAUIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

of  tlie  merits  of  liis  public  performnncos,  he  was  diligent  and  conscientious  in 
preparing  for  the  pulpit.  He  loved  to  study,  and  was  systematic  in  the 
division  of  his  time,  never  allowing  any  call  of  pleasure  to  interfere  with  the 
louder  call  of  duty.  1  have  often  heard  him  say  that,  when  an  undergraduate, 
and  yet  more,  in  the  Tutorship,  at  Harvard,  he  made  it  a  study  how  he  could 
best  occupy  his  time,  and  improve  opportunities.  His  multiplied  cares  and 
calls,  during  a  large  part  of  his  ministerial  service,  forbade  much  consecutive 
study;  but  he  often  trimmed  the  midnight  lamp.  I  never  met  with  a  more 
industrious  man — his  whole  life  was  filled  with  duty, —  to  use  a  favourite 
expression  of  his  own;  and  he  seemed  to  discharge  duty  in  the  si)ii-it  of  obe- 
dience to  his  Master.  Even  after  he  had  resigned  the  duties  of  the  ministry, 
he  carefully  maintained  his  active  habits  both  of  mind  and  body.  He  read,  he 
wrote,  he  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  friends,  old  and  new,  especially  with 
former  parishioners,  and  his  pupils,  who  were  dispersed  from  Maine  to 
Louisiana.  Wherever  he  thought  he  might  be  of  service  in  promoting  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  others,  he  never  failed  to  discharge  his  duty  by  a  letter, 
if  he  could  not  by  a  personal  visit.  If  nothing  else  happened  to  demand  his 
attention  at  the  time,  he  would  re-write  one  of  his  old  sermons.  He  often 
remarked  that  he  felt  the  importance  of  mental  occupation  to  preserve  the 
health  and  vigour  of  his  faculties.  He  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  rusting 
out.  By  such  contrivances  to  make  occupation  for  himself,  and  by  his  habits 
of  systematic  labour,  he  so  tilled  up  his  days  that  he  fiequently  used  to  say, 
with  a  smile  at  the  oddity  of  the  conceit,  that  it  might  strike  us  that  he  was 
straitened  for  time.  I  may  add  that  he  was  always  careful  and  sj'stematic  in 
his  bodily  exercise.  His  love  of  gardening  never  forsook  him.  In  his  eighty- 
fifth  summer  he  tfeok  the  principal  charge  of  the  garden.  In  the  winter  he 
used  the  axe  and  saw.  He  also  walked  as  much  as  his  infirmities  would 
permit. 

To  return  to  his  ministrj^,  I  have  no  idea  that  he  was  ever  charged  with 
neglect  or  inefficiency  in  respect  to  the  claims  of  his  people  on  him  for  counsel 
and  sympathy.  At  any  hour,  whether  of  night  or  day,  the  sick  or  the  dying 
found  him  readj^  to  answer  their  summons.  The  bereaved  and  afflicted  were 
sure  of  his  tender  interest.  The  family  always  knew  of  cases  of  sorrow,  or  of 
sickness,  or  peculiar  trial,  by  the  particular  mention  of  them  in  morning  or 
evening  prayer.  No  storm  swept  over  us,  but  petitions  were  ofTered  for  the 
seamen  or  the  traveller  exposed  to  its  fury.  The  poor  were  never  forgotten, 
nor  the  unfortunate,  in  his  prayers.  Whatever  also  promised  to  promote,  in 
his  judgment,  the  cause  of  true  religion,  found  in  him  a  ready  and  zealous 
co-operator.  While  at  Chelmsford,  at  the  request  of  the  Association,  he  pub- 
lished for  distribution,  in  their  several  parishes,  a  tract  or  address  on  fixinily 
worship.  lie  prepared  a  Catechism  for  children  of  which  several  editions  were 
printed.     Similar  efforts  were  made  by  him  during  his  ministry  at  Wiscasset. 

It  may  seem  incompatible  with  fidelity  to  his  calling  as  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel,  that  he  should  have  devoted  himself  so  much  to  the  instruction  o( 
youth.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that,  in  the  absence  of  the  facilities  for 
instruction  which  now  abound,  the  clergy  so  generally  had  private  jiupils  that 
it  was  almost  regarded  as  a  part  of  their  office.  He  undoubtedly  had  a 
decided  taste  for  the  pursuit,  and  the  claims  of  his  family  rendered  such  efforts 
necessary,  for  a  time  at  least;  but  I  am  persuaded  that,  before  he  consented 
to  enter  on  this  field  of  labour,  he  conscientiouslj'  considered  the  question  of 
duty,  in  full  view  of  liis  obligations  as  a  minister  of  Christ.  It  was  at  the 
earnest  solicitation  of  friends  in  Wiscasset  that  he  consented,  at  an  early 
period,  to  take  charge  of  a  private  school,  which  soon  became  an  incorporated 
Academy.  Near  the  close  of  his  life,  he  thus  refers  to  what  some  might 
regard  a  diversion  from  his  proper  sphere  of  labour: — "  I  reflect  with  satisfac- 


HEZEKIAH    PACKARD.  287 

tion  on  the  course  I  pursued  in  reference  to  the  rising  generation.  For  I 
exerted  a  greater  moral  influence.,  and  was  much  more  u.seful  than  I  could 
have  been  in  the  ministry  alone,  especially  considering  the  state  of  morals  at 
that  period.  I  endeavoured  to  ascertain  and  follow  the  leadings  of  Prov- 
idence." Under  date  of  September,  1806,  he  thus  wrote  to  a  brother: — "  My 
school  is  at  present  my  hobby;  but  I  am  obliged  to  ride  and  tie  that  I  may 
show  the  respect  and  attachment  I  feel  to  my  professional  concerns  and  duties. 
I  expect  to  render  some  valuable  service  both  to  parents  and  children.  I 
spare  no  pains,  and  am  up  early  and  late  to  meet  the  objects  of  both 
characters  in  which  I  act."  Again,  a  few  months  later: — «'  My  mind  is  greatly 
occupied,  and  1  hope  usefully.  It  is  no  matter,  you  know,  how  early 
in  Spring  some  grain  is  sown;  it  is  well  to  avail  ourselves  of  every  thing  like 
predisposition  in  the  soil;  nor  can  we  too  soon  eradicate  what  is  noxious.  I 
have  several  times  written  two  sermons  in  a  week  since  I  opened  my  school, 
and  hope  they  were  pretty  well  received.  My  conscience  bears  me  witness,  I 
think,  that  I  mean  to  render  my  people  all  the  service  in  my  power.  The 
risen  generation  are  so  wild  in  their  movements  that  I  mean  to  do  my  part  in 
giving  the  one  now  rising  a  better  direction."  Other  extracts  might  be  given 
to  show  with  what  earnestness  he  entered  on  the  exhausting  labours  of  those 
years.  From  the  result  it  would  seem  that  his  course  was  dictated  by  a  far- 
seeing  judgment.  We  may  claim  for  the  Seminary,  whilst  he  was  at  the 
head,  so  far  at  least  as  regards  the  moral  influences  which  pervaded  it, 
the  highest  rank.  The  sin  of  falsehood,  of  profane  and  obscure  language,  of 
Sabbath  breaking,  of  disobedience  to  parents  and  disregard  of  rightful 
authority,  was  set  forth  with  constant  and  earnest  power.  The  most 
interesting,  especially  the  didactic,  portions  of  the  Divine  word  were  rendered 
familiar  in  the  Monday  morning  lessons.  No  one  could  have  been  a  single 
week  in  that  school,  without  learning,  in  what  he  made  a  general  exercise,  the 
several  duties  just  mentioned;  and  man}^  now  live  who  can  distinctlj-  trace  to 
that  school  impressions  indelibly  made  concerning  such  sins  and  duties.  It 
was  composed  of  pupils  of  both  sexes,  Avho  have  since  been  the  ornaments  of 
society  in  that  and  other  communities;  and  I  am  warranted  in  ascribing  to  his 
efforts,  in  that  direction,  an  influence  still  felt  in  that  town  and  vicinity.  I 
will  add  that  he  was  abundant  in  efforts  to  direct  the  attention  of  teachers  and 
guardians  of  literary  institutions  to  the  moral  and  religious  training  of  youth. 
The  introduction  of  Mason  on  Self-knowledge  and  of  Porteus's  Evidences,  as 
text-books  in  Exeter  Academy,  N.  H.,  Avas,  I  am  led  to  think,  in  consequence 
of  the  urgency  with  which  this  subject  was  pressed  by  him  upon  the  attention 
of  Dr.  Abbot,  the  late  distinguished  head  of  that  Institution. 

No  one  conversant  with  him  could  doubt  his  respect  and  love  for  tlie  minis- 
try. "I  carry  Avith  me,"  he  writes  under  date  of  December,  1809,  "a 
refreshing  consciousness  of  good  desires  and  faithful  exertions  to  fill  the 
various  concentric  circles  of  ministerial  duty,  and  make  valuable  improve- 
ments in  this  part  of  our  Lord's  vineyard.  It  has  been  my  ardent  wish  that 
I  might  be  an  instrument  of  spiritual  good  to  the  people  of  my  charge,  and 
within  the  circle  of  my  influence.  I  have  had,  at  times,  for  a  year  or  two 
past,  a  comforting  persuasion  that  I  should  see  religion  more  regarded  in  this 
place,  our  assembly'-  enlarged,  and  our  table  of  Communion  better  filled." 
The  year  1828  was  signalized  in  the  religious  history  of  Wiscass.et  by  a  remark- 
able degree  of  interest  concerning  eternal  things  pervading  the  town.  With 
my  father  it  was  a  season  of  deep  and  tender  concern;  and  he  exerted  his 
best  energies  to  promote  what  he  believed  to  be  a  work  of  the  Lord.  His 
heart  was  made  glad  to  see  numbers  who  had  sat  for  years  under  his  ministry, 
many  of  his  former  pupils  and  two  of  his  own  children,  devoting  themselves, 
as  he  hoped,  to  the  Saviour  and  rejoicing  in  hope  through  Him.     That  revival 


288  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

may  be  mimbered  among  the  most  interesting  and  important  which  have 
blessed  the  churches  of  this  State.  But  his  attachment  to  the  ministrj'-  was 
never  more  manifest  than  after  he  had  ceased  to  hibour.  He  never  threw  off 
the  habits  or  tlie  feelings  of  the  Christian  minister.  He  watched  over  him- 
self as  ever,  that  lie  might  do  nothing  whereby  the  ministry  should  be 
blamed,  and  cherished  a  jealousy  for  the  honour  and  purity  of  the  sacred 
oflice.  Not  unfrequently,  on  the  Sabbath,  he  selected  some  of  his  own  dis- 
courses and  read  them,  and  meditated,  as  if  to  revive,  for  his  own  refreshment, 
the  feelings  with  which,  in  former  years,  he  used  to  engage  in  the  official 
duties  of  the  Lord's  day.  That  his  earnestness  in  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer 
was  not  merely  a  matter  of  office,  was  beautifully  and  impressively  manifested 
in  his  dail}'^  walk  and  conversation.  His  last  twelve  years  were  a  rest  from 
active  labour,  but  not  from  ever  wakeful  zeal  and  diligence  in  his  Master's 
work.  To  the  close  of  his  pilgrimage,  his  Christian  conversation,  his  corres- 
pondence, his  private  memoranda,  showed  a  vigorous  and  healthful  advance 
in  the  Divine  life.  "I  often  think,"  he  writes,  "that  I  have  deeper  feeling 
and  more  spiritual  ardour  in  praying  for  those  who  were  once  under  my 
cliarge,  than  when  I  was  connected  with  them  as  Pastor  and  teacher." 
Wherever  he  resided, —  at  Brunswick,  or  Saco,  or  Salem,  he  was  a  discreet, 
affectionate  and  earnest  co-operator  with  his  Pastor,  and  a  most  exemplary 
parishioner.  It  was  the  testimony  borne  in  the  Funeral  Discourse  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Adams,  of  Brunswick,  who  had  been  his  minister  nearly  nine  years, 
that  the  appearance  and  example  of  the  aged  hearer  at  his  side,  in  the  pulpit, 
(where  in  his  last  years  he  usually  sat,  in  consequence  of  impaired  hearing,) 
listening  with  eager  and  absorbed  attention,  and  a  look  of  deep  solemnity  and 
feeling,  to  the  preached  word,  seemed  to  him  a  more  effective  discourse  than 
any  preaching;  and  that  often,  as  he  sat  in  his  studjr,  preparing  for  his  Sab- 
bath labours,  and  saw  this  venerable  servant  of  God  passing  the  window,  and 
leaning  on  his  staff,  on  his  way  down  the  village  street,  to  make  his  custom- 
ary calls,  he  felt  new  encouragement,  because  he  was  sure  that  his  own 
inlluence  would  be  strengthened  b}^  that  walk  and  those  calls.  The  querulous 
spirit,  not  unfrequently  exhibited  b}^  a  retired  minister,  was  as  far  below  his 
character  as  a  man,  as  it  is  removed  from  the  temper  of  the  Gospel. 

A  writer  in  the  Boston  Journal  of  October  25,  1849,  under  the  caption, — • 
"Travels  in  New  England,"  a  professional  gentleman  of  accomplishment, 
once  a  parishioner  of  mj'  Hither  and  a  member  of  his  church,  but  who,  for 
several  years,  has  resided  in  Boston,  in  describing  the  beautiful  scenery  of 
Wiscasset,  thus  refers  to  my  father.  It  may  be  taken  as  an  independent  testi- 
monj'  concerning  him.  "  The  farm  to  which  I  alluded  was,  for  more  than 
twenty  years,  the  homestead  of  the  Rev.  H.  Packard,  while  settled  over  the 
parish  in  AViscasset.  He  was  a  man  greatly  beloved,  a  Cambridge  scholar, 
and  a  soldier  of  the  Revolution.  Like  very  many  of  the  army  of  Washington, 
liis  iigure  was  tall  and  majestic.  A  clergyman  of  dignified  bearing,  sincere, 
of  much  friendliness  of  heart,  he  was  a  true  specimen  of  the  Old  School.  He 
was  not  an  eloquent  preacher,  but  he  led  his  flock  to  the  green  pastures  and 
still  waters  of  life.  He  was  satisfied  to  feed  them  with  plain  but  wholesome 
food,  and  never  sought  to  gather  grapes  from  the  thorns  of  persecution,  nor 
figs  from  the  lliistles  of  controversy.  In  humble,  fervent,  reverential  prayer, 
this  venerable  Pastor  was  rarely  excelled.  Ilis  life  shone  in  the  light  of  his 
own  precepts.  With  a  small  salary  and  personal  labour  on  his  farm,  he 
united  to  his  clerical  duties  the  education  of  a  few  young  men,  placed  under 
his  care  by  friends  abroad,  and  he  fitted  several  for  College.  He  had  a  remark- 
able talent  for  governing  and  directing  the  young  mind  to  virtue,  honour  and 
gentlemanly  manners,  while  he  dwelt  much  on  a  sound  moral  tone  and  on 
the  fear  of  God,  the  beginning  of  wisdom.     No  one  who  knew  Dr.  P.  can  ever 


HEZEKIAH   PACKARD.  289 

forget  tlie  kind  attentions,  warm  grasp  of  the  hand,  and  peculiar  dry  and 
mellow  humour,  which  distinguished  this  soldier  of  the  cross;  who,  at  the 
bed  of  the  dying,  and  in  the  chamber  of  the  mourner,  felt  deeply  as  he  com- 
forted them  and  sympathized  with  them  in  their  trials.  When  I  think  of  his 
cheerfnl  look  at  his  hospitable  fireside,  I  am  reminded  of  a  beautiful  resem- 
blance to  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Though  not  a  man  of  profound  erudition, 
nor  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  space  which  he  filled  on  earth,  yet  he 
Avill  long  be  remembered  as  the  good  Dr.  Packard, —  a  reputation  v.hicli  may 
perhaps  shine  in  its  own  glory  among  the  blessed,  when  the  brilliant  meteors 
of  literature,  and  the  mere  Boanerges  of  the  pulj^it,  will  have  their  reuard  in 
this  life  only." 

The  preceding  statements  convey  an  impression  of  the  sincerity  and  earnest- 
ness of  my  father's  Christian  life  and  character;  but  I  should  do  injustice  to 
his  memory  without  more  direct  and  specific  evidence  on  this  particular,  ile 
was  the  son  of  pious  parents,  a  child  of  the  Covenant,  and  was  religiously 
trained,  but  he  referred  the  beginning  of  the  Divine  life  in  his  soul  to  a  season 
of  remarkable  religious  interest  in  his  native  town  in  1780.  After  several 
weeks  of  strong  conviction  of  sin,  he  had,  as  he  thought,  and  as  he  writes  in 
his  autobiography,  some  encouraging  evidence  tiiat  Christ  was  revealed  in 
him  as  the  hope  of  glory,  and  he  found  peace  in  believing.  He  ever  professed 
to  relj"^  on  Christ's  atoning  sacrifice,  and  his  continual  intercessions  for  accept- 
ance with  God.  The  tone  of  his  piety  may  be  seen  from  his  own  statement 
concerning  himself  at  a  late  period  of  his  life.  "  I  take  satisfaction  in  ie;iding 
the  Scriptures,  and  I  gather  instruction  and  encouragement  from  those  por- 
tions of  them  which  were  formerly  less  interesting,  because  1  have  more 
leisure  to  examine  and  apply  them.  I  have  an  encouraging  and  grateful 
relish  for  those  parts  of  the  Sacred  Volume  which  exhibit  and  inculcate  the 
doctrines  of  faith  and  repentance,  of  renewing  grace  and  a  holy  life,  of  Christ's, 
mediatorial  character  and  atoning  sacrifice,  the  grace  and  mercy  manifested 
to  our  sinful  and  sinning  world,  and  the  spiritual  nature  and  happy  subjects. 
of  Christ's  Kingdom;  the  reasonableness,  the  efficac}'  and  the  impoi-tance  of 
praj'er,  and  the  agenc}-  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  enlightening,  renewing  and  sanc- 
tifying men,  so  that  they  may  become  partakers  of  the  Divine  nature,  and 
heirs  of  the  grace  of  life."  Some  of  these  truths,  he  was  accustomed  to  say, 
were  recalled  in  these  his  last  days  with  more  clearness,  and  power,  and  com- 
fort to  his  mind.  As  years  advanced,  his  views  of  the  spiritual  wants  of  his 
fellow-men  seemed  to  strengthen  and  deepen.  Whenever  and  wiieiever  be 
mingled,  as  he  was  wont  to  do,  almost  to  the  end,  in  social  circles,  he  made 
it  plain  that  he  had  a  strong  and  abiding  sense  of  eternal  things.  1  doubt 
whether,  for  j^ears,  he  made  a  social  visit  or  a  call,  without  saying  some- 
thing for  his  Master  and  His  cause.  A  large  portion  of  every  day  was  spent. 
in  the  devout  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  of  books  of  practical  religion,  and  in 
prayer.  Doddridge,  AVatts,  Wilberforce  and  Jay  were  favourite  authors.  We 
cannot  forget  his  voice  of  prayer,  as  it  was  heard  from  his  apartment  at  stated. 
hours.  He  could  say  with  the  Psalmist, — "In  the  night  his  song  shall  be 
with  me,  and  my  prayer  unto  the  God  of  my  life."  I  might,  by  quotations- 
from  his  private  papers,  exhibit  further  proofs  of  his  profound  humility  and 
deep  devotion  of  spirit.  Were  I,  however,  to  convey  in  a  single  expression  my 
view  of  the  character  of  his  piety,  I  should  say  that  it  was  marked  by  a  clear- 
and  strong  sense  of  God.  The  earliest  impressions  made  upon  our  minds,  by 
his  precepts  and  example,  were  of  a  Divine  Providence  ordering  all  events, 
and  of  human  accountability. 

His  declining  years  were  spent  evidently  in  diligent  preparation  for  his- 
great  change.  I  often  heard  him  declare,  during  the  last  twelve  years  of  his- 
life,  that  he  thought  he  could  say  with  Dr.  Watts  that,  when  he  lay  down  at. 

Vol.  VIII.  19 


290  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

niglit,  he  wns  not  anxious  whether  he  awoke  in  this  world  or  the  next.  Some 
years  before  his  death,  in  one  of  his  attacks  of  disease  at  mj^  house,  when,  in 
the  midst  of  a  paroxysm  of  severest  agony,  which  he  supposed  he  could  not 
survive,  he,  with  difficulty,  and  in  detached  utterances,  exclaimed, — "  I  cannot 
say  'faithful  servant,'  but  'waiting  and  watching  for  the  coming  of  the 
Lord.'  "  When  his  change  at  last  came,  he  was  found  ready  and  waiting.  His 
sun  went  down  without  a  cloud.  In  answer  to  his  frequent  and  well-remem- 
bered petitions,  he  had  "  the  guiding  rod  and  supporting  staff  promised  to  the 
believer  in  passing  the  vale  of  death."  One  of  his  last  declarations  was 
made  to  one  who  was  his  Pastor  at  the  time,  who,  having  repeated  texts 
relating  to  Christ  as  our  Saviour,  asked  him  if  they  expressed  his  feelings: 
"  Yes,"  was  the  reply, — "  in  looking  back  on  my  past  life,  I  find  a  great  deal 
to  humble  me;  but  I  have  committed  myself  to  an  all-sufficient  Saviour.  I 
have  nothing  but  Christ  to  trust  to,  and  I  hope  to  be  clothed  with  my 
Saviour's  righteousness."  His  Pastor  spoke  of  death.  The  reply  was, — "I 
do  not  think  much  of  the  King  of  Terrors;  my  thoughts  are  on  the  King  of 
Glory."  "When  unable  to  articulate  distinctly,  he  was  observed  to  whisper — 
the  words  "Rock,"  "Redeemer,"  "Shepherd  "  were  heard  uttered  in  his 
prayer.  Whither  could  we  have  more  desired  the  thoughts  of  a  dying  parent 
to  ascend  than  to  Ilim  who  is  the  Rock  of  Ages,  the  Redeemer  of  his  people, 
and  the  Shepherd  of  Israel  ? 

It  is  due  to  candour  that  I  should  add  a  word  in  respect  to  my  father's  views 
of  Christian  doctrine.  What  I  have  already  said,  especially  the  extracts 
which  I  have  given  from  his  autobiography,  show  that  he  was  in  full  sympa- 
thy with  nearly  every  feature  of  what  is  commonly  called  the  Evangelical 
S3^stem.  I  do  him  no  injustice,  however,  in  admitting  that  he  did  halt  at  the 
commonly  received  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  —  that  is,  he  was  loth  to  employ 
the  expressions,  "  co-equal,  co-eternal,"  &c.;  or  to  speak  of  the  Son  as  really 
and  truly  God;  and  yet  he  was  accustomed  to  speak  of  Him  as  an  All-suffi- 
cient, Almighty  Saviour,  as  Immanuel,  God  with  us.  I  have  always  sup- 
posed that  his  views  on  this  subject  were  somewhat  modified  by  his  early 
associations,  and  perhaps  his  theological  training.  He  was  on  very  intimate 
terms  with  Dr.  Cummings,  of  Billerica,  and  my  impression  is  that  he  sympa- 
thized with  him  rather  more  than  with  any  others  of  that  neighbourhood,  my 
father  being  settled  in  Chelmsford,  near  by.  This,  however,  was  before  the 
■'lines  were  drawn  between  the  conflicting  parties. 

With  sincere  regard  and  respect. 

Your  friend  and  servant, 

A.  S.  PACKARD. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ARIEL  AECOT,  D.  D. 

Peterborough,  September  21,  1854. 

My  dear  Friend  :  My  recollections  of  Dr.  Hezekiah  Packard  are  not  very  num- 
erous or  various,  though  they  are  very  distinct.  I  knew  him  first  when  we 
were  students  together  at  Harvard  College.  He  was  not  only  a  good  scholar, 
as  was  evidenced  by  his  being  subsequently  chosen  to  a  Tutorship,  but,  hav- 
ing an  uncommonly  vigorous  and  athletic  frame,  he  was  not  a  little  distin- 
guished as  a  wrestler.  After  we  parted  at  College,  our  intercouse  was  never 
very  frequent;  though  it  became  more  so  in  his  latter  years,  and  it  was  kept 
up  Tiy  an  occasional  exchange  of  letters. 

I  cannot  say  that  there  was  any  thing  rernarkably  striking  in  Dr.  Packard's 
personal  appearance;  though  his  person  was  large,  and  his  general  aspect 
dignified  and  commanding.  His  manners  ware  agreeable,  and  in  his  social' 
intercourse  he  often  manifested  not  a  little  good  humour.  He  was  kindly  and 
charitable  in  his  dispositions.    His  intellect  was  vigorous  and  clear,  but  I  think 


SIMEON    DOGGETT.  291 

he  had  not  much  of  the  imaginative.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  heard  him 
preach,  but  I  know  that  he  had  a  highly  respectable  standing  in  his  denomi- 
nation; and  his  published  sermons,  I  think,  fully  justify  it.  The  fact  of  his 
having  preached  the  Dudleian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College  showed  that  he 
was  held  in  high  estimation,  as  a  Preacher. 

Dr.  Packard  was  generally  ranked  with  the  Unitarians,  after  the  lines  were 
drawn  between  them  and  the  Orthodox;  but  his  Unitarianism  was  probably 
of  a  type  approaching  very  near  to  Orthodoxy;  and  I  doubt  not  that  his 
preaching  would  have  been  general!}' acceptable  in  orthodox  pulpits.  I  remem- 
ber once  conversing  with  him  about  Dr.  Chauncj^'s  work  on  Universal  Salva- 
tion, and  he  said,  with  some  degree  of  earnestness,  that  he  once  possessed  it, 
but  had  thrown  it  into  the  fire.  In  his  last  years,  I  think  his  mind  became 
increasingly  occupied  with  religious  subjects  and  his  spirit  increasingly  devo- 
tional. Truly  yours, 

ABIEL   ABBOT. 


SIMEON  DOGGETT. 

1793—1852. 
FROM  THE  REV.  CHARLES  H.  BRIGHAM. 

Taunton,  November  5,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir  :  In  complying  with  your  request  for  a  sketch  of  the  Rev. 
Simeon  Doggett,  it  is  proper  that  I  should  state  that  I  did  not  become 
acquainted  with  him  until  he  wafe  seventy-nine  years  old,  and,  therefore,  am 
not  a  competent  judge,  from  personal  observation,  of  what  he  was  at  the 
meridian  of  life.  Tliis  deficiency  has  been  made  np,  however,  in  a  good 
degree,  by  the  reminiscences  of  a  large  circle  of  friends,  and  especially  by 
the  communications  of  his  own  children,  whose  memories  are  filled  with 
beautiful  illustrations  of  his  character.  Under  these  circumstances,  I 
think  you  may  feel  assured  of  the  authenticity  of  what  I  am  about  to 
communicate. 

Simeon  Doggett  was  born  in  Middleborough,  Mass.,  on  the  6th  of 
March,  1765.  His  early  associations  were  those  of  an  orderly,  industrious 
and  pious  Puritan  home.  '  His  mother,  a  native  of  North  Carolina,  had 
brought  with  her  from  her  Southern  birth  place  the  prepossessions  of  an 
Episcopal  training,  and  took  care  early  to  indoctrinate  tlie  mind  of  her  son 
with  the  tenets  of  the  Cliurch  of  England  :  and,  though  he  ultimately  found 
his  home  in  a  different  communion,  he  retained  a  lingering  attachment  to 
the  English  ritual  till  the  close  of  life. 

At  an  early  age  he  showed  a  decided  taste  for  study,  and  his  father, 
thougli  not  a  rich  man,  was  able  and  willing  to  give  liim  the  advantages  of 
a  collegiate  education.  Accordingly,  he  was  entered  at  Brown  University 
in  178?^,  and  graduated  in  1788,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three.  His  collegiate 
course  was  marked  throughout  by  great  earnestness  in  study,  and  the  most 
scrupulous  propriety  of  demeanour.  While  he  was  an  excellent  general 
scholar,  his  taste  was  rather  for  the  classics  than  the  sciences,  and  constant 
study  made  the  verses  and  aphorisms  of  ancient  authors  very  familiar  to 


292  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

him.  Botli  before  and  during  liis  college  course,  lie  was  engaged  for  some 
time  in  teacliing,  and  acquired  a  strong  relish  for  that  kind  of  employment. 

While  ho  was  in  College,  he  was  led  to  examine  for  himself  the  various 
systems  of  Church  government,  and  the  result  of  his  inquiry  was  tliat  the 
Congregational,  and  not  the  Episcopal,  order  seemed  to  him  the  original 
form  of  Church  polity.  An  inquiry  concerning  Scriptural  doctrine  satiNfied 
Lim  that  the  Christian  view  of  nature  and  of  grace  was  that  of  Arminius, 
and  not  that  of  Calvin.  Mr.  Barker,*  the  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Mid- 
dleborough,  was  willing,  in  view  of  his  serious  and  exemplary  deportment, 
to  admit  him  to  Communion  ;  but  one  of  his  Deacons,  who  was  a  very 
earnest  Ciilvinist,  could  not  feel  satisfied  that  Mr.  D.  possessed  the 
requisite  qualifications,  ajid  his  objections  prevailed  against  the  candidate. 
He,  however,  was  soon  after  received  into  the  Church  in  Providence,  under 
the  pastoral  care  of  the  Kev.  Dr.  Hitchcock;  and,  before  leaving  College, 
though  the  surrounding  influences  seemed  adverse  to  such  a  result,  he  had 
become  a  decided  Unitjuian. 

On  graduating,  Mr.  Doggett  returned  to  his  father's  house,  and  com- 
menced at  once  the  study  of  Theology,  with  only  such  aid  as  Doddridge, 
and  perhaps  one  or  two  other  kindred  writers,  supplied  to  him.  A 
concurrence  of  circumstances  continued  to  interrupt  his  studies  for  the  first 
year  or  two  ;  and,  at  length,  through  the  good  offices  of  President 
Manning,  he  obtai?ied  a  situation,  for  some  six  montlis,  in  a  planter's 
family  in  Virginia,  where,  with  a  task  comparatively  light,  he  could  recruit 
his  exhausted  health,  and  observe  the  working  of  Southern  institutions. 
In  1790  he  went  to  live  with  the  celebrated  Dr.  Samuel  West,  of  Dart- 
mouth, and  prosecuted  vigorously  the  study  of  his  profession,  under 
the  direction  of  that  eccentric  and  able  divine. 

♦Joseph  Bauker  was  a  native  of  Branford,  Conn. ;  was  graduated  at  Yale  College  in  1771 ; 
studied  Theology  under  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bellamy;  preached  for  some  time  at  Blanford,  Mass., 
and,  by  the  recommendation  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Emmons,  was  called  to  the  pastorate  of  the  First 
Church  in  Middleborough,  as  successor  to  the  Kev.  Sylvanus  Conant,  on  the  9th  of  August, 
17S1,  and  was  ordained  on  the  5th  of  December  following.  From  1805  to  1808,  he  was  a 
member  of  Congress.  His  ministry  at  Middleborough  continued  till  his  death,  which 
occurred  on  the  6th  of  July,  1815.  He  received  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  not  only  from 
his  Alma  Mater,  but  from  Harvard  and  Brown  Universities.  He  published  a  Century  Sermon, 
preached  one  hundred  years  after  the  Organization  of  the  Church  at  Middleborougli,  1796; 
and  a  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  Funeral  of  Deacon  Benjamin  Thomas,  1800.  A  volume  of 
his  Sermons  has  also  been  published.  He  was  a  man  of  superior  talents,  a  diligent  student, 
and  an  able  preacher  of  the  Hopkinsian  school.  He  was  twice  married.  His  first  wife  was 
Eunice  Stebbins  of  Longmeadow, — a  lady  of  great  cheerfulness,  economy  and  piety,  and  much 
esteemed  by  all  the  people.  She  died  October  6,  1809,  aged  forty-nine,  the  mother  of  seven 
children.  Two  of  her  sons  graduated  at  Brown  University.  One  of  them  {William)  died  in 
1809,  while  a  student  of  the  Andover  Theidogical  Seminary.  The  other  (James)  studied 
Theology  at  Cambridge,  was  licensed  as  a  Unitarian  Preacher,  and,  after  preaching  a  year  or 
two,  embraced  the  New  Church  (Swedenborgian)  doctrine,  left  the  ministry,  and  devoted 
himself  to  teaching.  His  second  wife,  who  survived  him,  was  Anna  Huntington,  the  widow 
of  a  clergyman  in  Connecticut. 

The  Rev.  Sylvanus  Conant,  above  referred  to,  was  a  descendant  of  the  celebrated  Roger 
Conant,  who  was  with  the  Plymouth  Pilgrims  in  1623,  and  removed  to  Si>lem.  He  was  born 
in  172  ',  and  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1740.  He  was  a  son  o'"  Lot  Conant,  a  son 
of  Nathaniel,  who  went  from  Beverly,  and  settled  in  Bridgewater  before  iG90.  He  began  his 
ministry  in  Bridgewater,  September  9,  1744,  was  called  to  the  pastorat'?  October  1,  of  the 
same  year,  and  was  ordained  March  28,  1745.  Here  he  continued  till  his  death,  which 
occurred,  from  small  pox,  December  8,  1777.  He  was  the  husband  of  tarec  wives,  succes- 
sively, who  were  much  esteemed,  but  left  no  children.  He  published  a  Sermon  occasioned 
by  the  Death  of  his  Wife,  1759;  a  Sermon  delivered  at  Taunton,  at  the  Er.ecution  of  Bristol, 
a  negro  boy,  176.'?;  a  Sermon  preached  on  occasion  of  the  news  of  the  Death  of  Daniel  Oliver, 
son  of  Hon.  Peter  Oliver,  1768;  and  a  Sermon  preached  at  Plymouth,  in  commemoration  of 
the  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  1776.  Mr.  Conant  was  a  friend  of  Whitefield,  and  sympathized 
in  the  revival  movement  of  that  day. 


SIMEON    DOGGETT.  293 

In  tlie  summer  of  1791  lie  was  chosen  to  be  a  Tutor  in  Brown 
University,  and  lield  the  office,  with  great  credit  to  himself  and  high 
advantage  to  the  institution,  for  five  years.  During  this  period,  he  was 
still  prosecuting  his  theological  studies,  and  in  Slay,  1793,  received  license 
from  the  Rhode  Island  Convention  of  Congregational  ministers  to  preach 
the  Gospel.  He  commenced  at  once  to  supply  vacant  pulpits,  as  oppor- 
tunity offered,  and  his  services  Tuet  with  very  general  acceptance. 

For  several  years,  the  prominent  citizens  of  Bristol  Count}'  had  proposed 
to  establish  an  Academy  in  some  central  town  in  the  Old  Colony,  which 
should  afford  the  means  of  instruction  in  the  higher  branches  to  childrea 
of  botii  sexes,  and  be  a  thorough  school  for  college  preparation.  In  July, 
1790.  Bristol  Academy  in  Taunton  was  opened,  in  pursuance  of  this  idea, 
with  Mr.  Doggett  as  its  first  Preceptor.  Here  he  found  a  position  every 
wav  favourable  to  his  comfort  and  usefulness.  The  high  expectations 
which  tlie  Trustees  had  formed  of  his  talents  and  character,  from  the 
recommendation  of  President  Maxcy,  were  fully  justified  by  Mr.  D.'s 
Inaugural  Address,  which  was  justly  regarded  as  the  pioneer  of  liberal 
education  in  the  Old  Colony. 

For  seventeen  years  Mr.  Doggett  served  in  this  office  with  marked 
ability  and  fidelity,  and  with  no  ordinary  success.  Though  his  school  was 
large,  and  his  labours  in  connection  witii  it  were  arduous,  yet,  by  dint  of 
untiring  industry,  he  was  enabled,  in  addition  to  his  duties  as  a  teacher,  to 
preach  quite  regularly  on  tlie  Sabbath.  When  the  Rev.  Dr.  Reed  of 
Bridgewater  went  to  Congress,  he  was  called  to  fill  the  vacant  place.  An 
active,  energetic,  industrious  life  was  his  life  in  Taunton.  The  aged 
inhabitants  in  this  place  have  now  no  more  beautiful  recollections  than 
those  of  the  scliool  days  when  he  was  their  teacher.  And  some,  who  have 
risen  high  in  public  fame,  have  professed  that  their  success  had  been  owing 
niaiidy  to  the  wise  counsels  and  mible  aspirations  which  he  gave  them. 

In  April,  1813,  IMr.  Doggett,  much  to  the  regret  of  the  Trustees  of  the 
Institution,  tendered  his  resignation  as  Principal,  giving  as  a  reason  that 
he  preferred  to  retire  before  there  should  be  any  perceptible  decay  of  his 
faculties.  He  now  determined  to  enter  on  the  duties  of  a  parish  minister, 
and  realize  the  pleasure  and  honour  which  he  had  so  long  coveted.  In 
the  town  of  Mendon,  at  that  time  the  secotid  town  in  size  in  Worcester 
County,  a  number  of  his  pupils  were  estaldished  in  professional  business, 
and  he  was  solicited  by  them  to  come  there  and  preach.  Unitariniiisni 
was  a  new  thing  in  that  region  ;  and  Dr.  Bancroft,  of  Worcester,  had  long 
stood  alone  among  Calvinistic  brethren.  The  Society  at  Mendon  was 
large,  influential,  and  supposed  to  be  orthodox.  Yet  they  called  him 
unanimiiusly,  and  did  not  rescind  their  call,  when  he,  at  a  special  meeting, 
stated  his  belief,  and  required,  if  he  accepted  the  post,  that  the  Church 
creed  and  covenant,  which  he  iieither  believed  nor  understood,  should  be 
altered.  The  neiglibouring  clergy,  notwithstanding  his  avowed  dissent 
from  their  religious  views,  readily  assisted  at  his  Ordination,  and  continued 
to  exchange  with  him  for  several  years. 

IMr.  Doggett  remained  in  the  ministry'-  at  Mendon  until  January,  1831  ; 
and,  though  not  a  controversial  preacher,  and  not  disposed  to  place  himself 
in  an  antagonistic  attitude  towards  his  brethren  who  differed  from  him,  he 


294  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

was  yet  perfectly  frank  in  tlie  avowal  of  his  opinions,  and  undoubtedly  did 
much,  in  a  quiet  way,  to  modify  the  prevailing  creed  of  that  neiglihour- 
hood.  But,  as  years  increased  upon  him,  he  became  sensible  that  a  chuiige 
of  his  field  of  labour  would  be  better  for  him,  and  better  for  the  people  of 
his  charge.  A  small  Unitarian  Society  had  been  organized,  about  this  time, 
in  the  town  of  Kaynham,  Bristol  County,  where  some  of  his  former  friends 
and  pupils  resided;  and  he  was  cordially  invited  to  become  their  Pastor. 
Many  circumstances  concurred  to  render  this  a  peculiarly  attractive  place 
to  him,  and  hence  he  accepted  the  call,  and  commenced  his  ministry  tliere 
in  April,  1831. 

Here,  as  in  his  preceding  fields  of  labour,  he  was  eminently  conscien- 
tious, and  diligent  withal,  so  far  as  his  increasing  infirmities  would  permit. 
He  was  greatly  beloved  and  revered,  not  only  by  the  people  of  his 
immediate  charge,  but  by  tlie  whole  surrounding  community.  In  the 
Seminary  where  he  had  taught  so  long,  he  was  now  an  honoured  Overseer. 
His  pecuniary  means  were  adequate  to  his  desires,  and  placed  him  quite 
above  the  fear  of  want.  He  had  a  choice  library,  gathered  and  inherited, 
of  the  old  standard  theological  works,  and  he  had  leisure  to  read  them. 
The  success  of  his  children  could  bring  joy  to  his  heart  ;  and,  though  they 
were  widely  separated  from  his  home,  their  frequent  letters  kept  the  family 
union  unbroken. 

An  interesting  episode  in  his  life,  at  this  period,  was  his  visit  to  the 
South,  in  the  winter  of  1834-35,  where  two  of  his  sons  were  establislied. 
In  the  cities  of  Charleston,  St.  Augustine,  Jacksonville,  and  Savannali,  he 
was  treated  with  marked  attention,  and  invited,  in  the  last  mentioned  city, 
to  preach  at  the  Dedication  of  the  new  Unitarian  Church  ; — whicli  service 
he  very  acceptably  performed.  His  journal  of  this  visit  is  very  full  and 
interesting.  He  had  an  opportunity  here  to  become  acquainted  with  some 
novel  forms  of  worship  ;  to  attend  at  the  Catholic,  the  Jewish  and  the 
Quaker  services,  and  to  hear  preachers  of  various  denominations, —  a 
privilege  which  an  active  minister  can  rarely  enjoy.  Tlie  institution  of 
Slavery  also  came  before  his  eye  in  its  light  and  its  dark  sides.  He  could 
testify  to  the  comfort  and  cheerfulness  of  the  Christian  planter's  large 
family,  and  he  could  shudder  at  the  sight  of  the  slave  auction.  He  was 
surprised,  too,  on  this  visit,  by  the  ravages  of  intemperance,  which  had 
never  seemed  so  fearful  in  the  Northern  towns.  His  criticisms  upon  these 
subjects,  and  his  observations  upon  Southern  character,  are  discriminating 
and  often  ingenious. 

On  the  first  day  of  his  seventy-third  year,  Mr.  Doggett  commenced  a 
daily  journal,  which  he  continued  for  many  years,  until  his  hand  had 
become  too  tremulous  to  write  with  ease.  In  this  journal  there  are  many 
things  remarkable.  It  is  rather  a  record  of  thoughts  than  of  facts.  It  is 
a  book  of  spiritual  meditations,  a  continued  self-examination  and  prayer. 
Two  wishes  are  nearest  the  writer's  heart,  and  are  repeated  on  almost 
every  page  —  that  no  day  may  pass  without  some  useful  work,  and  that 
every  day  may  carry  him  forward  in  the  Divine  life.  The  Confessions 
of  Augustine  do  not  show  a  more  earnest  self-renunciation,  a  more  living 
and  quick  longing  after  holiness,  than  the  journal  of  this  old  New  England 
minister.     This  pervading  religious  tone  dignifies  the  necessary  monotony 


SIMEON    DOGGETT.  295 

of  the  details  of  the  weeks  and  the  montlis.  Every  smallest  event  is  made 
the  llieuie  of  some  spiritual  reflection.  The  presents,  which  friends  send 
into  the  house,  come  us  special  gifts  from  God.  The  common  changes  in 
nature,  in  social  life,  storm  and  sunshine,  health  and  sickness,  old  age  and 
frequent  death,  all  seem  to  him  providential.  Indeed,  he  seems  always  to 
write  with  a  sense  of  God  above,  around,  with  and  within  him. 

The  mini.-try  of  Mr.  Doggett  at  Ilayuliam  continued  until  the  year  1845  ; 
when,  having  reached  the  full  term  of  fourscore  years,  he  felt  that  it  was 
time  fur  him  to  give  up  the  work  so  dear  to  his  heart.  But  he  did  not 
lose  his  love  for  tlie  people  of  his  charge  when  he  ceased  to  be  their  public 
teacher.  He  was  always  on  the  alert  to  minister  to  their  comfort  and 
ediiiuation  by  every  means  in  his  power.  The  closing  years  of  his  life 
were  serene  and  beautiful,  disturbed  by  no  calamity  and  clouded  by  no 
mental  decay.  On  Sunday,  ho  was  a  wakeful  and  earnest  listener  to  the 
word  of  younger  friends,  and,  when  his  own  church  was  closed,  he  worshipped 
cheerfully  with  brethren  of  a  different  faith,  and  found  no  fault  with  a 
manly  utterance  of  views  which  he  might  not  approve. 

On  his  eighty-seventh  birtli  day  his  young  friends  in  the  village  gathered 
at  his  house  to  offer  congratulations  and  tokens  of  their  love,  to  sing  songs, 
and  to  receive  anew  the  patriarchal  blessing.  It  was  a  glad  occasion. 
But  there  was  a  prophecy  in  the  old  man's  soul,  which  told  him  that  the 
occasion  would  not  come  again.  Very  serious  thoughts  were  mingled  with 
the  playful  words  by  which  he  refreshed  their  joy.  In  one  week  after  this 
the  fatal  sickness  fell  upon  him.  He  was  well  aware  of  its  probable  issue. 
But  he  showed  no  alarm,  made  no  change  in  the  order  of  his  house,  sat  at 
meals  with  his  family  and  asked  the  usual  blessing,  kept  up  his  service  of 
family  worship  and  waited  quietly  for  the  end.  He  died,  in  the  utmost 
tranquillity,  on  the  19th  of  March,  1852.  On  his  study  table  was  found, 
evidently  left  by  design,  the  Cyropedia  of  Xenophon,  with  the  leaf  turned 
in  at  a  passage  which  a  Christian  father  might  well  adopt  as  advice  to  his 
children,  and  a  manuscript  sermon  from  the  text, — "  Brethren,  the  time 
is  short."  The  Funeral  services  were  held  in  the  church  adjoining  his 
dwelling,  an  appropriate  Address  was  delivered,  and  a  long  train  of  those 
who  had  been  his  pupils  and  friends  followed  his  body  to  its  last  resting 
place. 

Mr.  Doggett  was  married  on  the  29th  of  October,  1797,  to  Nancy, 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Perez  Fobes,  of  Baynham.  They  had  eight 
children.  The  eldest  son,  John,  was  graduated  at  Brown  University  in 
1821  ;  was  one  of  the  earliest  settlers  of  Florida,  after  its  purchase  by 
the  United  States,  and  was,  for  many  years  previous  to  his  death,  Presiding 
Judge  of  the  County  Court  of  Duval  County.  He  died,  January  8,  1841.. 
His  second  son,  Samuel  Wales,  was  Principal  of  a  flourishing  Academy 
in  Charleston,  S.  C.  Another  son,  Perez  Fobes,  took  <a  high  rank  as  a* 
physician  and  surgeon.  And  still  another,  Tkeopkilus  Pipon,  was  gradu- 
ated at  Brown  University  in  1829,  and  was  settled  in  the  ministry  in 
Bridgewater,  Mass.  The  youngest  child,  William  Paletj,  had  scarcely 
commenced  the  practice  of  Law  in  his  own  village,  when  he  was  removed 
by  death.     Mrs.  Doggett  died  December  27th,  1854,  aged  eighty-five. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Doggett's  printed  productions: — A  Dis- 


29G  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

course  on  "  The  Way  of  Eternal  Lifu,"  preached  at  Norton  and  Provi- 
dence, 179G.  A  Dii^course  on  Education,  at  the  Op'^ning  of  Bristol 
Acadfuij,  1796.  An  Oration  at  Taunton,  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1799. 
A  Discourse  in  Mendon,  at  the  Funeral  of  liichard  George,  1827.  A  Ser- 
mon in  Mendon,  on  the  Death  of  Capt.  Joseph  Prince,  1828.  A  Seruion 
in  Bridgcwater,  at  the  Ordination  of  his  Son,  T.  P.  Doggett,  1833. 
Two  Discourses  on  Slavery,  1835.  National  Union:  A  Fast  Day  Ser- 
mon, 1839.  •  A  Sermon  on  "  Transcendentalism,"  preached  on  Fast  Day, 
1843. 

Mr.  Doggett  lived  to  be  the  only  survivor  of  his  college  class,  the  oldest 
graduate  of  Brown  University  with  a  single  exception,  the  oldest  teacher 
of  any  public  institution  in  Massachusetts,  and  the  oldest  minister  in  the 
Unitarian  denomination.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  to  avow  the  Unitarian 
belief,  a>id  in  this  belief  he  never  wavered.  He  was  an  Arian  of  the 
Old  School,  firm  in  faith  of  the  Pre-existence  of  Christ,  but  maintaining 
strongly  his  inferiority  to  the  Father.  From  each  of  the  five  points  of 
Calvinism  he  dissented  strongly  and  unequivocally.  He  had  no  love  for  the 
Universalist  theory,  but  he  was  inclined,  like  his  friend  Dr.  Bancroft,  to 
believe  in  the  final  annihilation  of  the  wicked. 

Mr.  Doggett,  though  not  a  brilliant  Preacher,  was  an  interesting  one — 
he  was  earnest  in  manner,  clear  and  close  in  argument,  concise  in  expres- 
sion, and  eminently  serious.  He  was  not  tried,  like  many  Preachers,  to 
fiind  n)atter  for  religious  instruction,  nor  did  he  catch  at  every  chance  of 
the  day,  every  political  movement,  every  novel  occurrence,  for  a  striking 
theme  of  discourse.  His  Bible  gave  him  his  texts  and  themes,  and  its 
store  was  exhaustless.  At  the  same  time,  he  was  a  close  observer  uf  the 
course  of  public  affairs,  and  when  the  emergency  seemed  to  demand  it,  he 
was  pron)pt  to  speak.  One  of  the  last  sern)ons  which  he  wrote,  in  his 
eightieth  year,  was  a  vigorous  protest  against  the  Annexation  of  Texas,  ia 
its  bearing  upon  national  morals  and  prosperity,  and  its  sure  influence  iu 
stirring  up  War  and  extending  Slavery.  He  looked  upon  the  system  of 
Slavery  as  a  great  evil,  for  which  the  scheme  of  African  Colonization 
seemed  to  him  to  offer  the  only  remedy. 

The  work  which  he  loved  best  was  to  interpret  to  his  friends  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  He  prized  the  Bible  in  its  integrity,  the  whole  of  God's  law. 
The  glory  of  the  New  Covenant  did  not  wholly  eclipse  for  him  the  bright- 
ness of  the  Old.  He  delighted  to  trace  the  relation  of  Moses  to  Christ, 
and  to  find  the  Messianic  hope  of  Hebrew  history  and  prophecy  fulfilled  in 
the  man  of  Nazareth.  Nothing  gave  him  more  pain  than  the  tendency 
which  he  seemed  to  discover,  to  slight  the  earliest  revelation  from  God, 
and  criticise  its  sacred  character;  unless,  indeed,  it  were  that  spirit  that 
denied  the  Christian  miracles,  and  threw  contempt  upon  the  claims  of 
Jesus  and  his  Apostles. 

He  was  candid  and  deliberate  in  the  formation  of  his  judgments,  hearing 
all  sides  and  dismissing  prejudice.  But  he  rarely  changed  his  opinions. 
If  he  distinctly  stated  any  sentiment  or  any  order,  whether  in  the  house,  the 
school-i'oom,  or  tlie  church,  it  was  known  to  be  irrevocable.  His  word  was 
law  to  his  cliildrcn  and  pupils.  His  parishioners  were  sure  that  nothing 
crude  or  doubtful  would  find   through   him  an   open   utterance.     He  pre- 


SIMEON    D0<3GETT.  297 

furred,  indeed,  to  speak  cominoii-places,  ratlier  tliari  strange  and  fantastic 
ideas.  For  Transcendentalism  of  any  kind,  wliether  as  a  system  of 
pliilosopliy,  a  style  of  preacliing,  or  a  tone  of  conversation,  lie  had  no 
relisli.  He  never  attempted  the  German  language,  and  was  content  with 
such  helps  as  the  sound  English  Commentaries  could  furnish,  or  the  well 
tried  Latin  Fathers. 

He  was  a  man  of  remarkable  modesty.  He  had  no  greater  desire  than 
to  be  useful  without  being  conspicuous.  He  chose  to  dwell  aside  from  the 
bustle  and  temptation  of  society,  where  he  might  be  forced  to  take  a  promi- 
nent place.  He  was  not  vain  of  his  acquirements,  never  boasted  of  what 
he  had  done  in  any  way.  He  had  no  sense  of  his  own  righteousness,  even 
in  contrast  with  the  meanness  and  worldliness  of  those  around  him.  I  was 
once  led,  at  the  Funeral  of  an  old  miser,  who  had  been  Mr.  Doggett's 
associate  in  early  life,  to  insist  somewhat  strongly  on  the  waste  of  talents 
and  the  wreck  of  hopes,  exhibited  in  such  a  life.  All  that  the  old  man 
answered,  was, — "I  am  afraid  to  speak  of  him  who  is  gone.  Perhaps  I 
shall  have  no  better  account  to  give.  I  can  only  remember  now  that  my 
friend  was  once  a  good  man  and  a  Christian  minister.  I  trust  that  God 
will  be  nieiciful  to  him.  My  time  will  soon  come  and  I  shall  need  all 
God's  mercy."  He  was  a  most  orderly  and  methodical  man.  He  had  a 
time  for  every  thing,  and  a  place  for  every  thing.  He  was  happiest  when 
his  regular  routine  of  life  could  go  on  unbroken,  and  did  not  tire  of  the 
uionulony  of  his  occupation.  He  gave  a  fair  measure  of  time  to  domestic 
and  manual  labour,  and  often  overtaxed  a  feeble  frame  to  sustain  this  sys- 
tem of  joining  physical  to  intellectual  toil.  He  was  temperate,  even  to 
abstemiousness,  and  frugal  from  principle, —  finding  no  pleasure  in  the 
gratification  of  physical  appetites,  yet  with  no  harsh  ascetic  theory.  He 
had  a  space  in  every  day  for  worship,  for  work,  for  study,  for  social  con- 
verse, and  for  meditation,  and  he  rarely  omitted  any  part  of  his  daily  pur- 
pose. And  it  was  a  surprise  to  his  friends  when,  at  any  time,  this  regular 
order  chanced  to  be  varied. 

He  was  a  fine  example  of  charity.  He  could  not  join  in  the  scandals 
with  which  ordinary  intercourse  abounds.  In  conversation  he  indulged 
in  no  strong  expressions  in  regard  to  the  opinions  or  characters  of 
others.  There  was  a  kindness,  a  gentleness,  a  dignified  reserve  iu  his  man- 
ner, that  more  eifectually  rebuked  the  utterance  of  severe  and  uncharita- 
ble words. 

My  recollection  of  Mr.  Doggett's  personal  appearance  is  scarcely  dis- 
tinct enough  to  justify  nie  in  attempting  a  description  of  it.  When  I  first 
knew  him,  he  had  almost  reached  his  fourscore  years,  and  had  all  the 
marks  of  an  old  man,  with  thin  white  hair,  stooping  slightly,  and  seeming 
to  be  below  the  middle  height.  I  should  think,  however,  that  in  youth 
he  must  have  been  as  much  as  five  feet  eight  or  nine  inches.  His  com- 
plexion, I  think,  was  dark,  his  eyes  were  deeply  set,  and  the  general  ex- 
])ression  of  his  countenance  indicated  thoughlfulness  and  decision.  His 
face  very  strikingly  resembled  the  portrait  of  Granville  Sharp.  His  tone 
of  voice  was  gentle,  but  clear  and  firm.  His  pace  in  walking  was  quick, 
and  his  frame,  though  slender,  was  well  knit  and  agile.  He  was  somewhat 
careless  about  his  dress  at  ordinary  times,  but  nice  on  special  occasions. 


298  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

He  wore  small  clothes  as  long  as  lie  could  find  any  body  to  make  tliem  to 
suit  liini,  and  then  finally  yielded  to  the  tide  of  custom  and'went  into 
pants.  With  sincere  regard, 

Your  friend  and  brother, 

CHARLES  H.  BRIGHAM. 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY,  LL.  D.^ 

1794—1805. 

Joseph  Priestley  was  liorn  at  Fieldhe;id,  about  six  miles  South-west 
of  Leeds,  Yorkshire,  England,  on  the  13t-h  of  March,  (0.  S.,)  IToo.  His 
father  was  Jonas  Priestley,  who  fdllowed  tlie  trade  of  a  clothier.  His 
motlier,  who.>e  maiden  name  was  Swift,  was  the  danghter  of  a  fanner  who 
resided  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Wakefield.  In  his  early  childhood  he  was 
committed  to  the  care  of  his  maternal  grandfather,  with  whom  he  continued, 
with  little  interruption,  till  his  mother's  death,  which  occurred  when  he 
was  about  seven  years  old.  His  father  was  a  Calvinistio  Dissenter  ;  and 
one  iif  the  most  vivid  recollections  he  had  of  his  mother  was,  that,  during 
the  little  time  he  spent  at  home,  she  taught  him  the  Assembly's  Catechism. 

After  his  mother's  death,  he  was  taken  home,  and  sent  to  school  in  tliG 
neiglibourhood.  But,  as  his  father  was  encumbered  with  a  large  fiimily, 
his  father's  sister,  who  had  no  children,  took  him  to  live  with  her,  and 
adopted  him  as  her  own.  She  continued  to  treat  him  as  her  child  till  her 
death,  in  1764. 

By  this  benevolent  and  excellent  lady,  who  was  in  easy  worldly  circum- 
stances, he  was  sent  to  several  schools  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  especially 
to  a  Free  School,  under  a  clergyman  by  the  name  of  Hague,  where  he 
.studied  Latin  and  Greek.  At  the  same  time,  he  was  devoting  such  inter- 
vals of  leisure  as  he  could  command,  to  the  study  of  the  Hebrew,  under 
the  Dissenting  minister  of  the  place,  Mr.  Kirkby,  who  subsequently  be- 
came his  instructor  also  in  other  branches.  With  these  advantages,  he 
had  acquired  a  pretty  good  knowledge  of  the  learned  languages,  at  the  age 
of  sixteen. 

From  the  time  that  he  had  discovered  any  fondness  for  books,  his  aunt 
entertained  hopes  of  his  being  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  ;  and  he  readily 
entered  into  her  views.  But,  as  his  health  began  to  fail,  and  it  was  appre- 
hended that  he  was  of  a  consumptive  habit,  his  thoughts  were  directed  to 
commercial  life  ;  and,  with  a  view  to  this,  he  learned  the  French,  Italian, 
and  German  languages,  without  a  teacher.  A  plan  had  already  been 
formed  for  placing  him  in  the  counting-house  of  an  uncle,  who  resided  in 
Lisbon,  and  every  thing  was  nearly  ready  for  undertaking  the  voyage, 
•when  it  was  found  that  his  health  had  so  far  improved  that  it  would  be 
safe  for  him  to  return  to  his  studies.  He  was,  accordingly,  sent  to  Da- 
vcntry,  to  study  under  the  Rev.  Caleb  Ashworth. 

•  Memoir  by  Himself  and  his  Son. —  Chalmers'  Biog.  Diet. 


JOSEPH    PRIESTLEY.  299 

He  spent  three  years  at  Daventry ;  and,  though  he  had  been  educated  in 
tlie  Calviuistic  faith,  lie  left  the  Academy  a  thorough  convert  to  Arianisin. 
Here  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Hartley's  "Observations  on 
Man,"  by  reading  which  he  became  fully  established  in  the  belief  of  the 
doctrine  of  Necessity.  He  entered  the  ministry  at  a  great  disadvantage, 
in  consequence  of  a  natural  impediment  in  his  speech  ;  and  this,  notwith- 
standing various  efforts  to  effect  a  cure,  always  continued,  in  a  degree  at 
least,  till  the  close  of  his  life.  On  leaving  the  Academy,  in  1755,  he  set- 
tled at  Needham  Market,  in  Suffolk,  over  a  very  small  congregation  ;  but 
the  fact  that  he  was  an  Arian,  when  it  came  to  be  discovered,  was  offen- 
sive to  some  of  his  people,  while  the  impediment  in  his  speech,  and  his 
general  lack  of  popular  talents,  rendered  him  scarcely  an  acceptable 
preacher  to  the  community  at  large.  Here  he  pursued  his  theological 
studies,  and  quickl}'  became  satisfied  "  that  the  doctrine  of  Atonement, 
even  in  its  most  qualified  sense,  had  no  countenance  either  from  Scripture 
or  Reason  ;''  and,  in  prosecuting  his  inquiries  ou  this  subject,  he  also 
reached  the  conclusion  that  the  Apostle  Paul's  "  reasoning  was,  in  many 
places,  far  from  being  conclusive."  On  the  resignation  of  the  llev.  Mr. 
Wadsworth  at  Sheffield,  an  invitation  was  sent  to  him,  through  the  influence 
of  some  of  his  friends,  to  preacli  there  as  a  candidate  :  he  accepted  the 
invitation,  but  the  people  did  not  accept  hi^n  ;  though  no  objections  were 
made  to  him  on  account  of  his  religious  opinions.  He  was,  however, 
shortly  after  this,  invited  to  preach  to  a  congregation  at  Nantwich,  ia 
Cheshire ;  and  he,  accordingly,  removed  thither  in  1758,  after  having 
been  at  Needham  just  three  years. 

At  Nantwich  he  passed  three  years  much  to  his  satisfaction.  Besides 
performing  the  duties  of  a  minister,  he  engaged  in  teaching  a  school  ;  and 
to  the  more  common  branches  of  instruction  he  added  experiments  ia 
Natural  Philosophy,  to  which  he  had  already  become  attached. 

In  1761  he  was  invited  to  become  a  Tutor  in  Languages  in  the  Academy 
at  Warrington  ;  and  here  he  first  began  to  acquii-e  reputation  as  a  writer 
in  various  branches  of  literature.  On  a  visit  to  London,  he  became' 
acquainted  with  Dr.  Franklin,  and  several  other  persons  eminent  in  the 
scientific  world,  who  encouraged  him  to  execute  a  plan  he  had  already  pro- 
jected, of  writing  a  History  of  Electricity  ;  which,  accordingly,  appeared 
in  1767.  This  work  passed  through  several  editions.  He  had,  the  year 
before,  been  elected  a  Fellow  of  the  lloyal  Society  ;  and,  about  the  same 
time,  the  University  of  Edinburgh  conferred  on  him  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Laws.  Though  it  was  no  part  of  his  duty  to  preach,  while  at  Warring- 
ton, he  chose  to  continue  the  practice,  and  not  only  preached,  as  there 
was  occasion  or  opportunity,  but  actually  received  Ordination,  that  he 
might  the  better  keep  up  the  character  of  a  Dissenting  minister. 

In  September,  1767.  he  left  Warrington,  and  took  charge  of  the  congre- 
gation of  Mill-hill  Chapel,  at  Leeds.  Here  he  resumed  his  application  to 
speculative  Theology,  which  had  occupied  him  at  Needham,  and  which 
had  been  interrupted  by  the  business  of  teaching,  at  Nantwich  and  War- 
rington. Soon  after  his  settlement  here,  he  says  —  in  his  memoir — "I 
became  what  is  called  a  Socinian  ;  and,  after  giving  the  closest  attention 
to  the  subject,  I  have  seen  more  and  more  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  that 


300  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

opinion  to  this  day,  and  likewise  to  be  more  impressed  with  the  idea  of  its 
importance."  Here  he  announced  the  change  in  his  theological'  views,  in 
several  different  publications;  and  also  wrote  a  pamphlet  or  two  designed 
to  vindicate  the  principles  and  conduct  of  Dissenters. 

It  was  during  his  residence  at  Leeds  that  his  attention  was  directed 
more  particularly  to  tlie  properties  of  fixed  air.  He  had  begun  his  experi- 
ments on  this  subject  in  the  year  1768  ;  but  his  first  publication  appeared 
in  1772.  Here  also  he  composed  his  "  History  and  Present  State  of  Dis- 
coveries relating  to  Vision,  Light  and  Colours." 

In  1772  a  proposal  was  made  to  him  to  accompany  Captain  Cook  in  his 
second  voyage  round  the  world.  He  consented  to  go,  and  an  arrangement 
was  actually  made  for  the  supply  of  his  pulpit  during  his  absence.  But 
some  of  the  parties  concerned  in  the  direction  of  the  business  objected  to 
him  on  account  of  his  religious  principles,  and  another  person  (Dr.  Forster) 
ultimately  received  tlie  appointment. 

After  a  residence  at  Leeds  of  six  years,  he  accepted  an  invitation  from 
the  Earl  of  Shelburne,  afterwards  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  to  reside  with 
him,  nominally  as  a  librarian,  but  really  as  a  companion.  Here  he  was 
occupied  chiefly  in  scientific  pursuits;  and,  in  1773,  read  a  paper  to  the 
Royal  Society  on  the  different  kinds  of  air,  which  obtained  the  Copley 
medal. 

In  1774  Dr.  Priestley  accompanied  the  noble  Earl  on  a  tour  to  the  Con- 
tinent. They  visited  Fhrnders,  Holhuid  and  Germany  ;  and,  after  spend- 
ing a  month  in  Paris,  returned  to  England.  This  tour  he  highly  valued 
as  a  means  of  both  gratification  and  improvement. 

Dr.  Priestley's  publications,  during  the  next  three  or  four  years,  brought 
out  his  peculiar  views, —  especially  the  doctrine  of  Philosophical  Necessity, 
and  of  the  Materiality  of  the  Human  Soul,  with  great  distinctness,  and 
brought  upon  him  a  degree  of  obloquy,  which  evidently  diminished  the 
kind  regard  of  his  Lordship  towards  him.  The  result  was  that  the  con- 
nection between  them  was  dissolved,  the  Doctor  retaining  an  annuity  of 
a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  according  to  the  original  agreement. 

After  a  residence  of  seven  years  with  Lord  Shelburne,  Dr.  Priestley 
removed  to  Birmingham,  where  he  became  the  minister  of  a  Unitarian 
congregation.  Here  he  wrote  his  "  History  of  the  Corruptions  of  Chris- 
tianity," and  his  "  History  of  the  Early  Opinions  concerning  Jesus  Christ." 
He  published  also  "  Familiar  Letters  to  the  Inhabitants  of  Birmingham," 
designed  to  support  the  Claims  of  the  Dissenters  for  a  repeal  of  the  Test 
Acts.  These  Letters  gave  great  offence,  and  brought  upon  him  the  odium 
of  the  clergy  in  the  country  at  large.  On  the  occasion  of  the  celebration 
at  ]}irmingham  of  the  Anniversary  of  the  French  Revolution,  on  the  14th 
of  July,  1791,  at  which  Dr.  Priestley  was  not  present,  a  mob  first  burned 
the  meeting-house  in  which  he  preached,  and  afterwards  his  dwelling 
Louse,  destroying  his  library,  philosophical  apparatus,  and,  so  far  as  they 
could,  every  thing  that  belonged  to  him.  The  outrage  was  countenanced 
by  many  persons  in  authority,  and  the  legal  compensation  which  he  ob- 
tained fell  considerably  short  of  his  actual  losses. 

Dr.  Priestley,  in  view  of  the  excited  state  of  the  public  feeling  against 
him,  thought  it  only  a  measure  of  safety  to  leave  Birmingham  ;  and,  accord- 


JOSEPH    PRIESTLEY.  301 

ingly,  lie  repaired  to  London,  where  lie  found  friends  ready  to  welcome 
him.  Ill  a  short  time,  he  was  invited  to  succeed  Dr.  Price  as  minister  at 
the  Gravel  Pit  Meeting-house  at  Hackney.  In  this  situation  he  found 
himself,  in  many  respects,  easy  and  comfortable  ;  and  he  not  only  had 
every  advantage  for  pursuing  his  philosophical  and  theological  inquiries, 
but  was  particularly  happ^  in  an  intimacy  with  Mr.  Lindsay  and  Mr. 
Belsham,  two  of  the  most  eminent  Unitarian  ministers  of  the  day.  He 
was,  however,  still,  to  a  great  extent,  an  object  of  public  odium  ;  and  the 
feeling  of  opposition  was  not  allayed,  but  intensified,  by  several  of  his 
publications  at  this  period  ;  and  he  finally  made  up  his  mind  to  cross  the 
ocean,  and  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  in  America.  At  the  time  of  his 
leaving  England,  in  April,  1794,  several  respectable  English  emigrants 
had  formed  a  project  for  a  large  settlement  for  the  friends  of  liberty  in 
general,  near  the  head  of  the  Susquehanna,  in  Pennsylvania.  Presuming 
that  this  scheme  was  to  go  into  effect,  after  landing  at  New  York,  on  the 
4th  of  June,  he  proceeded  immediately  to  Philadelphia,  and  thence  to 
Northumberland,  the  town  nearest  to  the  proposed  settlement,  intending 
to  reside  there  until  some  progress  should  be  made  in  it.  The  settlement 
was  given  up  ;  but,  as  he  liked  the  place,  he  determined  to  take  up  his 
residence  there,  and  there  he  actually  remained  during  the  residue  of  his 
life. 

Though  Dr.  Priestley  was  highly  esteemed  by  the  people  of  Northum- 
berland, not  only  for  his  great  intelligence  but  for  his  many  private 
virtues,  yet  his  theological  views  differed  so  essentially  from  theirs  that  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  exercise  his  ministry  there,  except  on  a  very 
small  scale.  About  a  dozen  Englishmen,  who  resided  there  at  the  time, 
were  accustomed  to  meet,  on  Sunday,  at  his  house,  or  the  house  of  his  son  ; 
and.  as  the  number  increased,  he  made  use  of  a  school-room  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  so  many  ultimately  attended  that  he  administered  to  them 
the  Lord's  Supper. 

In  the  spring  of  1796  he  spent  three  months  at  Philadelphia,  and 
delivered  there  a  series  of  Discourses  on  the  Evidences  of  Divine  Revela- 
tion, which  were  attended  by  crowded  audiences,  iiiclndiiig  most  of  the 
members  of  Congress,  and  of  the  executive  officers  of  the  Government. 
These  discourses  were  subsequently  published.  The  next  spring  he 
repeated  his  visit  to  Philadelphia,  and  delivered  a  second  series  of 
Discourses,  which,  however,  were  received  with  much  less  favour  than  the 
former  ones. 

In  the  spring  of  1801  he  again  spent  some  time  in  Philadelphia,  and, 
during  his  stay  there,  had  a  violent  attack  of  fever,  from  the  effects  of 
which  he  never  afterwards  fully  recovered.  He  subsequently  suffered, 
also,  at  different  times,  from  the  fever  and  ague  ;  but,  notwithstanding 
these  inroads  upon  his  constitution,  his  spirits  continued  good,  and  he 
pursued  his  various  studies  with  nearly  his  accustomed  vigour. 

The  illness,  of  which  he  died,  was,  in  its  earlier  stages,  an  obstinate 
indigestion,  together  with  a  difficulty  of  swallowing  his  food.  From 
November,  1803,  to  the  middle  of  January,  1804,  it  was  evident  that  he 
was  constantly  growing  worse  ;  but,  at  the  latter  date,  there  was  some 
slight  alleviation  of  his  symptoms,  wKich  encouraged  his  friends  to  hope 


802  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tliat  he  miglit  possibly  recover.  Soon  after  tliis,  however,  other  more 
ahinning  syiiiptums  ensued,  and  he  became  himself  fully  impressed  with 
the  idea  that  his  time  on  earth  was  short;  and  he  desired  to  live  a  little 
longer  chiefly  that  he  might  complete  the  printing  of  some  of  his  works, 
which  was  then  upon  his  hands.  About  this  time,  also,  he  ceased  perform- 
ing Divine  service  ;  saying  that  he  had  never  found  himself  incapable  of  it 
befdre.  After  this,  he  continued  constantly  engaged  in  revi.sing  his  works 
for  (he  press,  and  in  reading  Newcome's  Translation  of  the  New  Testament, 
and  otlier  bocdis  in  which  he  was  interested.  His  son,  who  constantly 
ministered  to  him  in  his  last  days,  has  left  the  following  record  concerning 
him : — 

"  On  Sunday,  he  was  much  weaker,  and  onlj'  sat  up  in  an  armed  cliair,  while  his  bed 
was  made.  lie  desired  me  to  read  to  hiiu  the  eleventh  chapter  of  .John.  I  was  going 
on  to  read  to  tlie  end  of  the  clia])ter,  but  he  stopped  me  at  tiie  forty-fifth  verse.  He 
dwelt,  for  some  time,  on  the  advantage  he  had  derived  from  reading  tlie  Scriptures 
daily,  and  advised  me  to  do  the  same;  saying  tiiat  it  would  prove  to  me,  as  it  had  done  to 
liim.  a  source  of  tlie  i)ur!'st  pleasure.  He  desired  me  to  read  him  a  pamphlet  which 
was  at  his  bed's  head  —  Simpson  on  the  duration  of  future  punishment.  '  It  will  be  a 
source  of  satisfaction  to  you  to  read  that  i)amij1det,'  said  he,  giving  it  to  mo;  '  it  con- 
tains my  sentiments,  and  a  belief  in  them  will  be  a  snppoit  to  you  in  the  most  trying 
circumstances,  as  it  has  been  to  me.  We  shall  all  meet  finally:  we  only  require 
ditferent  degrees  of  discipline,  suited  to  our  different  tempers,  to  prepare  us  for  final 

happiness.'     Upon  Mr. coming  into  the  room,  he  said. — '  You  see,  Sir.  I  am 

still  living.'     Mr.  observed  he  would  always  live.     '  Yes,'  said  he,  '  I  believe  I 

shall,  and  we  shall  all  meet  again  in  another  and  better  world.'  He  said  this  with 
great  animation,  laying  hold  on  Mr. 's  liand  with  both  his. 

"  Before  prayers,  he  desired  me  to  reach  him  three  publications,  about  which  he 
would  give  me  some  directions  the  next  morning.  His  weakness  would  not  permit 
him  to  do  it  at  that  time. 

"At  prayers,  he  had  all  the  children  brought  to  his  bedside  as  before.  After 
prayers,  they  wished  him  a  good  night,  and  were  leaving  the  room.  He  desired  them 
to  stay,  and  spoke  to  them  each  se])arately.  He  exhorted  them  all  to  continue  to  love 
each  other.  'And  you,  little  thing,'  speaking  to  Eli7.a,  •remember  the  hymn  you 
learned: — '  Birds  in  their  little  nests  agree,  &c.'  '  I  am  going  to  sleep  as  well  as  you; 
for  death  is  only  a  good,  long,  sound  sleep  in  the  grave,  and  we  shall  meet  again.'  He 
congratulated  us  on  the  dispositions  of  our  children ;  said  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  see 
them  likely  to  turn  out  well;  and  continued,  for  some  time,  to  express  his  confidence 
in  a  hap))y  immortality,  and  in  a  future  state,  which  would  afford  us  ample  field  for 
the  exertion  of  our  faculties." 

The  above  is  a  specimen  of  Dr.  Priestley's  death  bed  exercises.  He 
continued,  after  this,  gradually  to  fail  until  the  next  day,  (February  6, 
1805.)  when  he  passed  away  so  gently  that  the  nionient  of  his  departure 
could  not  be  exactly  ascertained.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by 
the  Rev.  William  Christie,  and  was  published. 

Dr.  Priestley  was  married,  in  176.3,  to  Mary,  daughter  of  Isaac  "Wilkin- 
son, an  iron  master  near  Wrexham,  in  Wales,  with  whose  family  he  became 
acquainted  in  consequence  of  having  the  youngest  son  at  his  school  at 
Nantwich.  They  had  four  children, —  three  sons  and  one  daughter.  The 
daughter  was  married  to  a  Mr.  Finch,  an  iron  master  in  England,  and  died 
there  about  the  year  1803.  His  three  sons  migrated  to  this  country. 
The  eldest  came  in  1793,  and  lived  at  Northumberland,  chiefly  occupied 
with  agricultural  pursuits,  until  1812,  when  he,  with  all  his  family,  except 
one  son,  returned  to  England,  where  he  died  in  1833.  The  second  son 
settled  in  Louisiana,  as  a  planter,  and  died  several  years  ago.  The  third 
died  in  Northumberland,  in  1795,  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  Mrs.  Priestley 
died  in  Northumberland  in  1797. 


JOSEPH    PRIESTLEY.  303 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Priestley's  publications  ; — * 
The  Rudiments  of  English  Grammar,  with  Observations  on  Slyle,  1762. 
A  Course  of  Lectures  on  the  Theory  of  Language  and  Universal  Grammar, 
1762.  The  Duty  of  not  Living  to  Ourselves,  1764.  A  Descriyition  of  a 
Chart  of  Biography;  witli  a  Catalogue  of  all  the  Nani'^s  inserted  in  it,  and 
the  Dates  annexed  to  them,  1765.  An  Essay  on  a  Course  of  Lilieral 
Education  in  Civil  and  Active  Life;  with  Plans  of  Lectures  on  1.  The 
Study  of  History  and  General  Policy  ;  2.  The  History  of  England  ;  to 
which  are  added  Remarks  on  a  Code  of  Education  proposed  by  Dr.  Brown 
in  a  late  Treatise,  entitled  Thoughts  on  Civil  Liberty,  &c.,  1765.  The 
History  and  Present  State  of  Electricity ;  with  Original  Experiments, 
1767.  An  Address  to  Protestant  Dissenters  on  the  subject  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  1768.  Essays  on  the  Principles  of  Governments,  and  on  the 
Nature  of  Political,  Civil  and  Religious  Liberty,  1768.  A  Serious  Ad- 
dress to  Masters  of  Families  ;  with  Forms  of  Family  Prayer,  1769,  Con- 
siderations on  Diflferences  of  Opinion  among  Christians  ;  with  a  Letter  to 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Venn  in  answer  to  his  Full  and  Free  Examination  of  the 
Address  to  Protestant  Dissenters,  1769.  A  View  of  the  Principles  of 
the  Protestant  Dissenters,  with  respect  to  the  Civil  and  J]cclesiastical 
Constitution  of  Englatid,  1769.  Considerations  on  Church  Authority, 
occasioned  by  Dr.  Balguy's  Sermon  on  that  subject,  1769.  A  few 
Remarks  on  some  Paragraphs  in  the  Fourth  volume  of  Dr.  Blackstone's 
Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  England,  relating  to  Dissenters,  1769.  An 
Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Electricity,  1769.  Additions  to  the  History 
and  Present  State  of  Electricity,  1770.  A  Description  of  a  new  Chart  of 
History,  1770.  A  Familiar  Introduction  to  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Per- 
spective, 1770.  The  Rudiments  of  English  Grammar,  1772.  Directions 
for.  impregnating  "Water  with  Fixed  Air,  in  order  to  communicate  to  it  the 
peculiar  Spirit  and  Virtues  of  Pyrmount  Water,  and  other  Mineral  Waters 
of  a  similar  nature,  1772.  History  and  Present  State  of  Discoveries 
relating  to  Vision,  Light  and  Colours;  2  vols.,  4to.,  1772.  Institutes  of 
Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,  vol.  I.,  On  the  Elements  of  Natural 
Religion,  1772.  Experiments  and  Observations  on  different  kinds  of  Air, 
3  vols.,  8vo.,  1774-77.  Auserlesene  Kleine  Werke  dreyer  beriihrater 
Englischer  Chymisten,  Priestley,  Henry  and  Black,  1774.  Hartley's 
Theory  of  the  Human  IMind,  on  the  Principles  of  Association  of  Ideas  ; 
with  Essays  relating  to  the  subject  of  it,  1775.  An  Examination  of  Dr. 
Reid's  Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind,  on  the  Principles  of  Common  Sense; 
Dr.  Beattie's  Essay  on  Truth  ;  and  Dr.  Oswald's  Appeal  to  Common 
Sense  in  behalf  of  Religion,  1775.     Pliilosophical  Empiricism,  containing 

Remarks  on  a  Charge   of  Plagiarism  respecting  Dr.  H s,  interspersed 

with  various  Observations  relating  to  different  kinds  of  Air,  1775.  A 
Free  Address  to  Protestant  Dissenters  on  the  subject  of  Church  Discipline, 
1776.  Harmony  of  the  Evangelists  in  Greek ;  to  which  are  prefixed 
Critical  Dissertations  in  English,  1777.  A  Course  of  Lectures  on  Oratory 
and  Criticism,  1777.  Disquisitions  relating  to  Matter  and  Spirit,  1777. 
The    Doctrine    of   Philosophical    Necessity,    being    an    Appendix    to    the 

*  I  cannot  be  sure  that  this  list  embraces  all  Dr.  Priestley's  works,  but,  after  a  comparison 
of  various  catalogues,  I  am  unable  to  make  it  more  complete. 


304  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Disquisitions,  &c.,  1777.  The  SadJucee  :  A  Poem,  1778.  Miscellaneous 
Observations  relating  to  Education,  more  especially  as  it  relates  to  tlie 
Conduct  of  the  Mind,  1778.  A  Letter  to  Mr.  Jolin  Palmer  in  defence  of 
the  Illustrations  of  IMiilosophical  Necessity,  1779.  A  Second  Letter  on 
the  same,  1780.  Experiments  and  Observations  relating  to  Natural 
Pliilosopliy  ;  with  a  continuation  of  the  Observations  on  Air,  3  vols.,  8vo., 
1779-178G.  Two  Letters  to  Dr.  Newconibe,  ITisliop  of  Waterford,  on  the 
Duration  of  our  Saviour's  IMinistrj,  HSO.  A  Letter  to  Joseph  Bryant, 
Esq.,  in  defence  of  Philosophical  Necessity,  1780.  Additional  Letters  to 
a  Philosophical  Unbeliever  in  answer  to  ]Mr.  W.  Ilamnion,  1782.  The 
Proper  Constitution  of  a  Christian  Church  :  A  Sermon.  1782.  The 
History  of  the  Corruptions  of  Christianity,  2  vols.,  8vo.,  1782.  Letters 
to  Dr.  Horsley,  1783.  An  Appeal  to  the  Pious  and  Candid  Professors  of 
Christianity  on  various  subjects, —  llepublished  in  Philadelpliia  in  1784. 
Forms  of  Prayer  for  the  use  of  the  Unitarian  Societies,  1784.  An  History 
of  Early  Opinions  concerning  Jesus  Christ,  compiled  from  Original 
Writers,  proving  tliat  the  Christian  Church  was  at  first  Unitarian,  4  vols., 
Svo.,  178G.  Letters  to  the  Jews,  inviting  them  to  an  Amicable  Discus- 
sion of  the  Evidences  of  Christianity,  1786.  Letters  to  Dr.  Home,  Dean 
of  Canterbury,  &c.,  1787.  ^  Discourses  on  Various  Subjects,  including 
several  on  Particular  Occasions,  1787.  Defences  of  Unitarianism  for  the 
year  1787,  containing  Letters  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Geddes,  to  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Price,  &c.,  kc,  1787.  A  Letter  to  the  Rt.  Hon.  William  Pitt  on  the 
subject  of  Toleration  and  Church  Establishments,  1787.  A  Discourse  in 
favour  of  the  Abolition  of  Slavery,  1788.  Lectures  on  History  and 
General  P(dicy,  to  which  is  prefixed  an  Essay  on  a  Course  of  Liberal 
Education  for  Civil  and  Active  Life,  1788.  A  Sermon  preached  before 
the  Congregations  of  the  Old  and  New  Meetings  at  Birmingham,  1789. 
Reflections  on  Death:  A  Sermon,  1790.  A  View  of  Revealed  Religion, 
1790.  Familiar  Letters  addressed  to  the  Inhabitants  of  Birmingham,  in 
Refutation  of  several  Cliarges  against  the  Dissenters  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Madan, 
in  two  parts,  1790.  A  General  Histor}'  of  the  Christian  Church  to  the  Fall 
of  the  Western  Empire,  2  vols..  8vo.,  1790.  Letters  to  the  Rev.  Edward 
Burn,  of  St.  IMary's  Chapel,  Birmingham,  in  Answer  to  his  Letter  on  the 
Infallibility  of  the  Apostolic  Testimony  concerning  the  Person  of  Christ, 
1790.  Defences  of  Unitarianism  for  the  years  1788  and  1789,  1790.  Let- 
ters to  the  Rt.  Hon.  Edmund  Burke,  occasioned  by  his  Reflections  on  the 
Revolution  in  France,  179].  The  Evidence  of  the  Resurrection  of  Christ 
Jesus  considered,  1791.  Original  Letters  by  the  Rev,  John  Wesley  and  his 
Friends,  illustrative  of  his  Early  History,  with  other  Curious  Papers,  com- 
municated by  the  late  Rev.  S.  Badcock ;  to  which  is  prefixed  an  Address  to 
the  IMcthodists,  1791.  The  Proper  Objects  of  Education  in  the  present 
state  of  the  W  uld,  represented  in  a  Discourse,  1791.  A  Discourse  on  the 
Death  of  the  T  ev.  Dr.  Price,  1791.  A  Particular  Attention  to  the  Instruc- 
tion of  the  Young,  recommended  in  a  Discourse,  1791.  An  Appeal  to  the 
Public  on  the  subject  of  the  Riot  at  Birmingham,  1791.  The  Diity  of  For- 
giveness of  Injuries:  A  Discourse,  1791.  Letters  to  the  Members  of  the 
New  Jerusaleri  Church,  formed  by  Baron  Swedenborg,  1791.  Letters  to  a 
Young  Man,  ojcasioned  by  Mr.  Wakefield's  Essay  on  Public  Worship;  to 


JOSEPH    PRIESTLEY.  305 

wliicli  is  added  a  Reply  to  Mr.  Evanson's  Objections  to  the  Observance  of 
the  Lord's  Day,  1792.  Part  II  of  the  same,  1793.  Discourses  on  the 
Evidence  of  Revealed  Religion,  1794.  The  Use  of  Christianity,  especially 
in  DiiBcult  Times :  A  Sermon,  1794.  Heads  of  Lectures  on  a  Course  of 
Experimental  Pliilosophy,  particularly  including  Chemistry,  delivered  at 
the  New  College,  Hackney,  1794.  Syllabus  of  a  Course  of  Lectures  on 
the  Study  of  History,  1794.  The  Present  State  of  Europe  compared  with 
Ancient  Prophecy  ;  with  a  Preface,  containing  Reasons  for  his  leaving 
England,  1794.  Experiments  and  Observations  relating  to  the  Analysis 
of  Atmospheric  Air;  also,  further  Experiments  relating  to  the  Generation 
of  Air  from  Water  ;  to  which  are  added  Considerations  on  the  Doctrine  of 
Phlogiston,  1796.  Observations  on  the  Increase  of  Infidelity,  1796.  A 
Comparison  of  the  Institutes  of  Moses  with  those  of  the  Hindoos  and  other 
Ancient  Nations,  1800.  The  Doctrine  of  Phlogiston  established,  and  that 
of  the  Decomposition  of  Water  refuted,  1800.  A  Letter  to  an  Antipjedo- 
baptist,  1802.  Socrates  and  Jesus  compared,  1803.  Index  to  the  lUble,  in 
which  the  various  Subjects  which  occur  in  the  Scriptures  are  alphabetically 
arranged,  1805.  Memoirs  of  his  Life  to  the  year  1795,  written  by  himself, 
with  a  Continuation  to  the  time  of  his  Decease,  by  his  Son,  and  Observa- 
tions on  his  Writings  by  T.  Cooper  and  W.  Christie,  1806.  In  addition 
to  the  above,  he  published  a  large  number  of  articles  in  the  Transactions 
of  different  Philosophical  Societies,  Nicholson's  Journal,  &c. 

FROM  HUGH  BELLAS,  ESQ. 

SuNBURY,  Pa.,  September  22,  1849. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  In  compliance  with  your  request,  communicated  through^ 
our  mutual  friend,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Furness,  I  cheerfully  communicate  some  of 
my  reminiscences,  illustrative  of  the  character  of  Dr.  Priestley,  embracing  the 
period  from  June,  179G,  until  near  the  time  of  his  death. 

In  1796,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  I  was  employed  as  an  apprentice  in  a  store' 
which  the  Doctor  frequented.  From  the  close  of  that  year  until  the  autumn 
of  1803,  I  was  in  the  practice,  with  but  little  interruption,  of  borrowing  fi-oia, 
him  miscellaneous  books.  As  he  perceived  my  ardour  in  acquiring  knowledge, 
and  was  always  on  the  alert  to  aid  the  improvement  of  young  men,  he  uni- 
formly treated  me  with  great  kindness  and  indulgence  when  I  called  upon' 
him.  During  the  period  of  about  seven  years,  I  saw  and  conversed  with  him,. 
I  suppose,  upon  an  average,  once  every  two  weeks.  Indeed,  I  often  visited  him 
when  I  had  no  occasion  to  avail  myself  of  his  profiered  kindness  in  lending 
me  books;  for  there  was  an  atmosphere  of  benevolence  around  him,  which 
attracted  me  insensibly,  and  rendered  it  a  privilege  for  me  to  be  in  his  society. 

The  personal  appearance  of  Dr.  Priestley,  when  I  first  saw  him,  was  that 
of  an  aged  gentleman,  of  about  five  feet  nine  inches,  dressed  in  black,  with  a. 
white  stock,  walking  perfectly  erect.  He  usually  moved  rapidly  and  acted 
earnestly,  when  he  was  engaged  in  business,  whether  in  his  house  or  in  the 
street;  but  he  often  took  a  deliberate  evening's  walk  for  recreation,  in  the 
summer.  He  had  been  an  active  pedestrian  in  England;  for  he  told  me  he  had 
walked  there,  in  a  morning,  twenty  miles  before  breakfast.  He  rode  very 
well  on  horseback,  though  not  frequently;  and  I  was  informed  that  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  that  kind  of  exercise,  with  the  fine  horses  of  the  Earl  of 
Shelburne,  while  he  lived  with  him.  His  person  was  rather  spare  than  full — 
he  was  broad  across  the  loins,  and  his  lower  limbs  appeared  slender,  through, 
his  American  pants,  which  he  always  wore.     He  usually  spoke  somewhat. 

Vol.  VIII.  20 


306  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

rapidly  in  a  tenor  tone  of  voice,  without  mnrked  impediment,  unless  under 
excitement,  and  then  his  utterance  was  but  slightly  affected. 

Near  and  in  front  of  Dr.  Priestley,  as  he  sat  in  his  library,  hung  the 
portraits  of  his  friends,  Dr.  Price  and  the  Rev.  Theophilus  Linsey.  Some  of 
his  metaphj'sical  arguments  against  the  speculations  of  the  former,  were 
written  in  the  same  apartment;  and,  in  perfect  friendship,  they  submitted  to 
each  other  their  opposing  manuscripts  before  they  sent  them  off  to  the  press. 
It  was  of  Mr.  Linsey  that,  on  leaving  England,  Dr.  Priestley  wrote  that, 
««  without  his  society,  the  world  would  seem  to  him,  for  some  time  at  least, 
almost  a  blank." 

Towards  his  own  family  his  affections  were  deep,  tender  and  ardent;  while 
yet  he  was  remarkable  for  his  firmness  and  fortitude.  These  latter  traits 
were  strikingly  exhibited  on  occasion  of  the  terrific  riots  at  Birmingham,  as 
well  as  at  a  later  period,  in  connection  with  the  death  of  his  wife.  I  was 
present  at  her  Funeral,  and  was  a  witness  to  his  flowing  tears,  while  he  de- 
livered a  deeply  pathetic  Address  at  her  grave.  A  few  years  after  this,  his 
estimable  son,  Joseph,  with  whom  he  resided,  visited  England;  and,  remain- 
ing much  longer  than  had  been  anticipated,  his  father,  on  his  return,  said  to 
him, — "  I  began  to  feel  the  truth  of  the  wise  man's  saying,  that  '  hope  de- 
ferred maketh  the  heart  sick.'  " 

To  any  expression,  offensive  to  either  moralit}'^  or  piety,  he  was  singularly 
sensitive:  indeed,  he  was  reluctant  to  be  introduced  to  any  one  whose  mode 
of  life  might  have  addicted  him  to  the  irreverent  use  of  sacred  things.  I 
once  introduced  to  him  inconsiderately  a  young  seaman,  a  son  of  a  respectable 
Unitarian  clergyman,  who  was  not  sufBciently  guarded  in  this  respect,  and 
he  afterwards  expressed  regret  and  dissatisfaction  that  I  had  done  it.  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  he  never  pronounced  the  name  of  the  Supreme  Being  with- 
out a  solemn  pause;  but  this  statement  certainly  is  incorrect.  Many  years 
before  he  left  England,  he  published  an  interesting  Discourse  on  «'  Habitual 
Devotion;"  and  the  frame  of  mind  which  he  there  inculcates,  he  seemed  to 
me  to  possess  himself  in  an  uncommon  degree.  In  the  autumn  of  1801, 
Northumberland  suffered  severely  from  fevers;  and  Dr.  Priestley,  among 
■others,. was  prostrated  for  some  weeks.  During  his  illness,  I  happened  to 
reside  in  the  same  house  with  him,  and  heard  his  expressions  of  resignation 
'to  the  Divine  will,  which  were  uttered  in  such  a  tone  and  so  frequently  as  to 
Tie  exceedingly  affecting. 

To  all  with  whom  he  had  intercourse,  and  especially  to  young  per.sons, 
whatever  might  be  their  standing  in  society,  he  showed  much  kindness.  I 
went  into  an  old  shoemaker's  shop  one  morning,  about  two  3'ears  after  the 
Doctor  came  to  this  countr}'',  and  saw  upon  his  bench  a  small  volume,  which 
I  took  up,  and  found  to  be  the  first  volume  of  Dr.  Priestley's  '<  Institutes  of 
Natural  and  Revealed  Religion."  The  old  man  said  the  Doctor  had  given  it 
to  him  as  a  present;  and  both  he  and  his  wife  spoke  warmly  of  his  friendly 
and  benevolent  disposition,  and  reprobated,  in  no  very  moderate  terms,  those 
who  condemned  him,  without,  as  they  supposed,  knowing  his  opinions. 

The  domestics  of  the  family  held  the  Doctor  in  the  utmost  reverence.  He 
sometimes  reproved  ihem  for  their  misconduct;  but  not  unfrequently,  soon 
■afterwards,  especially  if  the  reproof  had  been  severe  and  been  rightly  received, 
■made  them  some  little  present,  with  a  view  the  more  effectually  to  soothe 
their  feelings.  During  several  months  he  delivered  Lectures  to  a  class  of 
about  twelve  young  men,  chiefly  mechanics,  some  of  them  apprentices,  using 
<«  Astro-theology  "  as  a  text  book.  On  these  occasions,  his  vivid  and  path- 
etic descriptions  of  the  dreadful  consequences  of  sensual  indulgence  upon  both 
'body  and  mind  left  an  impression  that  could  not  easily  be  effaced. 

In  the  evening  he  sometimes  played  at  chess;  and,  having  usually  beaten 


JOSEPH   PRIESTLEY.  307 

his  opponent,  when  about  to  quit,  he  would  suffer  himself  to  be  beaten,  say- 
ing,— <<  Well,  now  you  have  beaten  me,  let  us  quit." 

Dr.  Priestley's  uncommon  urbanity  and  gracefulness  of  manners,  as  well  as 
his  intellectual  qualities,  made  him  welcome  to  the  most  refined  and  culti- 
vated society.  lie  was  always  cheerful  and  courteous,  his  fair  and  expressive 
countenance  beaming  with  benevolent  excitement,  and  his  full  blue  eyes  fre- 
quently moistened  from  sensibility.  One  morning  a  venerable  and  strict  Pres- 
byterian, old  Mr.  Montgomery,  described  in  my  hearing  the  various  persons 
who  had  been  with  hiu^  the  preceding  evening,  at  a  little  social  party,  in  some 
friend's  house;  and,  after  mentioning  others,  said, — '<  And  we  had  the  old 
Doctor  among  us,  with  all  the  benevolence  of  a  primitive  Apostle." 

The  Doctor  conducted  family  worship  in  the  morning  in  his  library,  reading 
the  prayers  in  a  standing  posture.  About  the  year  1799  he  commenced 
preaching  in  a  school-house,  an  humble  log  building  near  his  dwelling,  to  an 
audience  of  fifteen,  twenty,  or  more.  There  he  administered  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per; handing  the  bread  and  wine  to  his  little  grandchildren,  as  w^ell  as  to 
any  other  who  chose  to  partake.  A  person  to  whom  he  gave  the  elements 
carried  them  round  to  those  present  who  were  seated.  On  at  least  some  of 
these  occasions  he  was  much  moved  —  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks,  and 
his  voice  struggled  for  utterance.  During  public  worship,  he  wore  the  black 
silk  gown;  and,  after  reading  the  hymn,  joined  in  singing,  keeping  before  him 
the  notes  of  the  tune  in  his  music  book. 

His  compositions  for  the  press  were  first  written  in  short  hand.  I  have 
heard  it  said  tliat  the  printers  had  much  difficulty  in  reading  his  manuscript; 
but  all  his  writing,  which  I  remember  to  have  seen,  was  in  a  free,  legible 
hand.  When  I  called  one  evening,  he  asked  if  I  had  time  then  to  write  a 
little  for  him;  and,  as  I  readily  assented,  he  handed  me  his  manuscript,  in 
<«  long  hand,"  to  continue  it.  He  then  proceeded  to  read  to  me  from  his 
short  hand,  having  given  me  minute  directions  in  respect  to  punctuation, 
the  use  of  capitals,  &c. ;  and  when  it  became  too  dark  for  me  to  proceed 
farther,  he  looked  over  ni}'^  pages,  and  very  kindly  expressed  his  satisfaction 
with  what  I  had  done.  He  used  a  copying  machine  for  letters,  &c.,  and  said 
that  in  England  he  could  obtain  a  good  impression,  after  twenty-four  hours 
or  more;  but  here  the  greater  dryness  of  the  air  obliged  him  to  take  a  copy 
within  a  much  shorter  time. 

I  think  it  was  in  the  summer  of  1800,  I  called  to  return  to  him  books 
which  I  had  borrowed,  and  to  receive  others;  and  he  told  me  that  he  had 
just  received  a  very  curious  present  from  Europe,  which  he  would  show  me. 
He  took  me  into  his  laboratory,  and  pointed  to  a  small  pile  of  plates  of  silver 
and  zinc,  in  alternate  layers,  with  pieces  of  wet  flannel  interposed;  each 
plate  about  the  size  and  form  of  a  common  playing  card.  A  piece  of  small 
iron  wire  was  inserted  near  the  top  of  tbe  pile,  another  piece  near  the  bot- 
tom, and  the  other  ends  of  the  wire  were  brought  together,  and  there  under- 
went decomposition.  <<  Now  this  is  called  the  pile  of  Volta,"  said  the  Doctor; 
"  and  here  is  the  electric  fluid  destroying  the  ends  of  the  wires.  Put  the 
joint  of  your  thumb  to  these  points,  and  you  will  feel  a  slight  electric  shock. 
You  need  not  be  afraid;  for  it  will  not  be  severe."  I  did  as  he  directed,  and 
received  several  successive  light  shocks,  upon  repeated  applications  to  the 
points. 

He  was  disposed  to  place  full  confidence  in  those  with  whom  he  transacted 
business.  As  he  never  took  the  trouble  of  learning  to  count  our  currency,  he 
handed  his  money,  when  he  made  his  little  purchases  in  the  stores,  saying, 

"There,  Mr.  C ,  you  will  give   me   the  proper  change;    for  I  do  not 

know  it." 

In  the  year  1802,  a  young  gentleman  from  New  England,  making  an  exten- 


308  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

sive  tour  for  health  or  pleasure,  called  upon  the  Doctor,  and  I  soon  after 
inquired  who  his  visitor  was.  He  told  me,  but  I  cannot  recollect,  his  name; 
and  added,  with  no  little  confidence  and  animation, — '<A  great  change  is 
about  to  take  place  in  New  England  in  favour  of  Unitarianisni.  I  shall  not 
live  to  see  it,  but  you  may."  He  published  a  remarkable  prediction,  when 
leaving  England,  respecting  the  political  convulsions  and  wars  which  now 
agitate  Europe, —  the  mighty  conflicts  between  the  friends  of  arbitrar}' gov- 
ernment and  the  advocates  of  freedom.  lie  had  adopted  Dr.  Hartley's  opinion 
expressed  in  his  "  Observations  on  j\Ian," — that  terrible  visitations  awaited 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, —  England  not  e.\cej)ted, —  that  had  lent  their 
influence  in  aid  of  the  Church  of  Home.  That  work  of  Dr.  Hartley  he  held 
to  be  the  most  valuable  of  all  books,  except  the  Bible. 

It  seems  rather  strange  that  neither  in  what  Dr.  Priestley  has  published,  nor 
in  what  has  been  written  concerning  him,  is  there  any  thing  to  indicate  his 
intense  relish  for  a  good  anecdote,  or  the  great  number  of  amusing  and 
instructive  anecdotes  which  he  had  treasured  up.  Perhaps,  however,  this  is 
to  be  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  state  of  mind  in  which  this  pleasantry 
originated,  was  called  up  only  by  familiar  and  agreeable  conversation.  But  I 
now  recollect  that  his  <<  Letters  to  Volney,"  composed  in  a  singh  day,  par- 
took not  a  little  of  a  humourous  character;  for  he  deemed  Volney's  shallow 
Deism  unworthy  of  grave  argument.  With  one  of  the  Doctor's  anecdotes, 
which  he  used  to  relate  with  characteristic  good  humour,  I  shall  conclude 
these  reminiscences.  It  was  as  follows: — A  devout  Portuguese  farmer,  greatly 
perplexed  about  his  cows  staying  away  at  night,  at  length  resolved  to  give 
them  in  charge  of  his  tutelary  saint,  when  he  turned  them  out  every  morn- 
ing to  their  rambles  at  large.  To  his  great  joy,  he  found  that  his  trust  and 
invocation  were  now  rewarded  by  the  punctual  return  home  of  the  cows 
every  evening.  The  good  man,  however,  being  about  to  leave  liome  for  some 
days,  directed  his  daughter's  attention  to  the  change  which  they  had  observed 
in  the  cows'  behaviour,  and  explained  to  her  the  cause  of  it.  "  Now  remem- 
ber," says  he,  ''  every  morning  while  I  am  away,  when  you  turn  them  out, 
to  give  them  particularly  into  the  care  of  Saint  J."  The  girl  promised  to  do 
as  he  ordered;  but,  by  the  following  morning,  when  sending  off  the  cows, 
she  had  totally  forgotten  the  name  of  the  saint  —  anxious,  however,  to  do 
the  best  she  could,  she  committed  them  to  the  charge  of  all  the  saints.  Night 
after  night  came,  but  neither  night  nor  saints  brought  home  the  cows.  At 
length  her  father  returned,  and  soon  and  eagerly  inquired  of  her  whether  tho 
cows  had  always  come  home.  "Oh,  indeed,  father,  they  have  never  been 
home  since."  "  And  did  you,"  said  he,  "  give  them  into  the  charge  of  Saint 
J.  ?"  «'  Why,  I'll  tell  you,  father,  exactly  how  it  was  —  I  could  not,  for  my 
life,  recall  the  name  of  that  saint  of  yours;  and  so  I  gave  them  into  the  care 
of  all  the  saints;  and,  as  he  was  among  them,  I  thought  it  would  all  be 
right."  <«  Oh  yes,"  said  he,  <«  that  is  always  the  way;  what  is  every  body's 
business  is  nobody's  business." 

With  the  utmost  respect  and  regard, 

I  am,  Dear  Sir,  Your  friend  and  servant, 

HUGH  BELLAS. 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  309 


ABIEL  ABBOT,  D.  D  * 

1794—1828. 

Abiel  Abbot  was  born  in  Andover,  Mass.,  August  17,  1770.  He  was 
a  son  of  John  and  Abigail  Abbot,  and,  with  the  exception  of  one  who  died 
in  infancy,  tlie  youngest  of  their  children.  His  parents  were  persons  of 
excellent  cliaracter,  and  his  mother  especially  is  said  to  have  been  remark- 
able alike  fur  good  sense  and  piety.  In  his  early  childhood,  he  exhibited 
not  only  great  con><cientiousness  but  uncommon  devoutness  ;  being  accus- 
tomed frequently  to  retire,  for  purposes  of  devotion,  to  a  solitary  grove 
near  his  father's  house.  His  brother-in-law,  the  Rev,  Dr.  Abbot,  of 
Peterborough,  N.  H.,  in  referring  to  his  earliest  years,  writes  thus  : — "  He 
bad  an  excellent  mother.  The^children  were  allowed  at  home  to  take  the. 
pears  which  they  found  on  the  ground  under  the  tree.  Passing  in  the 
road,  he  saw  a  couple  of  pears,  just  over  the  fence,  under  a  tree  belonging 
to  OTie  of  the  neighbours.  He  picked  up  the  pears,  and  hastened  iiome, 
and  gladly  offered  one  of  them   to  his  mother.      '  Wliere  did  you  get  the 

pears  ?  '      '  Oh,  under  3Ir.  's  pear  tree.'      '  I  shall  not   touch  one  of 

them  ;  they  are  stolen  ;  they  are  not  your  pears.'  He  was  in  an  agony. 
♦  What  .shiiU  I  do?'  'You  must  put  tliem  where  you  found  them,'  He 
immediately  carried  them  back,  and  placed  them  under  the  tree.  He  had 
always  a  tender  conscience,  and  greatly  venerated  his  pious  mother." 

At  the  age  of  fourteen,  he  had  a  severe  illness, —  a  nervous  fever, 
occasioned  by  thrusting  his  arm  into  a  cold  spring,  in  a  hot  summer's  day. 
This  illness,  which  had  well  nigh  proved  fatal,  left  him  with  the  vigour  of 
bis  constitution  considerably  impaired  ;  and  this  was  one  of  the  circum- 
stances which  led  his  parents  to  gratify  his  wish  for.  a  liberal  education. 
Accordingly,  he  became  a  member  of  Phillips  Academy  at  Andover, 
where  he  at  once  took  a  high  stand  among  his  fellow  students,  and  main- 
tained it  during  the  whole  period  of  his  preparation  for  College.  Here,  as 
in  after  life,  he  was  particularly  distinguished  for  a  popular  and  graceful 
style  of  elocution. 

He  entered  Harvard  College  in  1788  and  graduated  in  1792.  He  was 
uniformly  diligent  in  his  studies  and  exemplary  in  his  deportment,  but 
was  distinguished  rather  for  his  classical  than  scientific  attainments.  In 
1800  he  was  appointed  to  deliver  the  Annual  A(idress  before  the  Phi 
Beta  Kappa  Society  at  Harvard  College,  on  which  occasion  he  very 
creditably  acquitted  himself  in  "  A  Review  of  the  Kighteeuth  Century." 
The  Address  was  published  in  a  periodical  of  that  day,  entitled  the 
"  Literary  iNIiscellany." 

Soon  after  he  graduated,  he  became  an  assistant  teacher  at  Phillips 
Academy,  Exeter,  where  he  continued  till  August,  1793,  He  subsequently 
occupied  the  place  of  Principal  of  Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  pursued  his  theological  studies  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev. 
Jonathan   French,     Having  received    license    to    preach,    be    commenced 

*  Memoir  by  Rev,  S,  Everett. —  Ms.  from  Eev.  Dr.  Abbot,  of  Peterborough,  N.  H. 


310  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

preaching  to  the  congregation  in  Ilaverliill,  in  November,  179-4,  and,  ia 
February  following,  received  a  unanimous  invitation  to  become  their 
Pastor.  He  signified  his  acceptance  of  the  call  in  April,  and  was  solemnly 
set  apart  to  the  work  of  the  ministry  in  that  place  on  the  3d  of  June,  his 
Pastor  and  Theological  Teacher,  the  Rev.  Mr.  French,  preaching  the 
Ordination  Sermon.  His  labours  were  welcomed  with  enthusiastic  applause 
by  all  classes  to  whom  he  ministered.  In  reference  to  his  Ordination,  he 
■writes  in  his  private  journal, — "  I  would  never  forget  thy  goodness,  0  thou 
"whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all  the  works  of  thy  hands.  Perpetuate  the 
memory  of  these  things  in  my  mind,  and  keep  alive  my  sensibility  and 
gratitude."  After  his  first  administration  of  the  Communion,  he  writes 
thus: — "I  would  never  forget  the  feelings  of  that  first  interview  with  the 
church,  nor  the  tears  we  shed,  of  which  the  faulty  spectators  themselves 
did  not  withhold  their  share.  I  would  remember  these  feelings  and  tears, 
as  a  constant  excitement  to  prayer  that  many  may  be  added  to  our  Com- 
munion of  such  as  shall  be  saved."  On  commencing  a  New  Year,  he 
writes  thus  : — "  Let  it  be  my  solicitous  endeavour  this  year  to  redeem 
time.  Let  it  be  my  plan  to  undertake  more  and  to  perform  quicker.  To 
carry  this  design  into  execution  several  things  will  be  necessary.  To  take 
better  care  of  the  fragments  of  time.  A  portion  of  the  day  may  often  be 
saved  in  the  morning  and  evening,  which  is  apt  to  slide  away  in  other 
avocations.  Less  time  should  be  spent  in  ruminating  or  listless  study. 
Let  the  moments  of  application  be  improved  at  all  times,  as  they  are  when 
special  necessity  compels  to  the  utmost  ardour  and  activity.  Kead  with 
attention  ;  converse  with  spirit  and  judgment  ;  visit  by  plan  and  to  some 
good  purpose.  Let  civility  have  its  place  ;  but  let  religion  and  ministerial 
objects  have  their  turn  also.  Choose  for  the  pulpit  subjects  of  variety  ; 
this  will  keep  curiosity  alive,  which  may  be  the  handmaid  of  religion  ;  and 
it  may  also  put  me  in  the  way  of  crossing  every  hearer's  prevailing  fault, 
and  remind  him  of  a  duty  in  which  he  is  most  of  all  deficient." 

In  1796  he  was  married  to  Eunice,  eldest  daughter  of  Ebenezer  Wales, 
Esq.,  of  Dorchester  ; —  a  lady  of  great  sweetness  and  excellence  of  character, 
and  well  fitted  to  adorn  a  responsible  station. 

In  May,  1803,  he  resigned  his  pastoral  charge  at  Haverhill,  on  the 
ground  tlmt  his  salary  would  not  meet  the  necessary  expenses  of  his  family. 
The  step  seems  to  have  been  taken  not  without  much  reluctance  and  regret ; 
and,  for  some  time  after,  his  health  suffered  to  such  a  degree  that  he  was 
obliged  to  suspend  his  ministerial  labours,  and  avail  himself  of  the  relaxa- 
tion and  exercise  incident  to  a  somewhat  protracted  journey.  In  the  sum- 
mer of  this  year  he  received  a  call  to  settle  over  the  First  Congregational 
Church  in  Beverly,  then  recently  rendered  vacant  by  the  election  of  Dr. 
McKeen  to  the  Presidency  of  Bowdoin  College;  and,  about  the  same  time, 
proposals  were  made  to  him  from  one  or  two  other  chiirches,  which  perhaps 
might  have  been  regarded,  in  some  respects,  as  still  more  eligible.  He 
accepted  the  call  at  Beverly,  and  was  installed  the  following  winter, 
(December  13,  1803,)  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  his 
friend,  the  Rev.  Thaddeus  Mason  Harris,  of  Dorchester,  His  health,  at 
this  period,  was  so  much  enfeebled  that  he  afterwards  remarked  that, 
when  he  preached  his  Introductory  Sermon,  he  did  it  under  the  impression 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  311 

that  it  might  very  possibly  prove  to  be  his  last.  His  test  on  the  occasion 
was, — "  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf."  From  this  time  his  health  began  to 
improve,  and  he  entered  upon  the  labours  of  his  new  sphere  with  great 
alacrity  and  acceptance. 

His  first  eflforts  seem  to  have  been  followed  by  an  increased  seriousness 
in  his  congregation.  In  August,  1804,  he  writes, — "  My  labours  have 
been  apparently  blest  more  than  in  any  former  period.  The  serious  of  the 
Society  have  expressed  to  me  their  joy  and  gratulation  ;  the  whole  assem- 
bly appears  more  solemn  and  attentive  and  full  than  formerly."  In 
February,  1805,  he  writes, — "  The  additions  to  the  church  in  less  than  a 
year  have  been  nearly  fifty:  and  thej'  seem  to  adorn  their  profession," 

The  demand  for  extra  services  in  his  congregation,  at  this  period,  seemed 
to  impose  upon  him  tlie  necessity  of  speaking  more  or  less  without  writing  ; 
and  he  had  a  natural  talent  at  this,  which  rendered  it  alike  easy  to  himself 
and  agreeable  to  his  hearers.  In  March,  1806,  he  began  a  course  of  un- 
written expository  lectures  in  the  town  hall,  "designed" —  to  use  his  own 
language — "  to  show  the  history  and  doctrines  of  Christ  in  connection,  and 
to  enforce  them  in  a  practical  and  pathetic,  rather  than  in  a  learned  and 
theoretical,  manner."  These  services  attracted  very  large  audiences,  so  that, 
within  a  short  time,  they  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  town  hall,  and  hold 
the  service  in  the  church.  In  referring  to  this  course  of  lectures,  in  a  letter 
to  a  friend,  many  years  afterwards,  he  speaks  of  them  as  having  been  to 
himself  a  delightful  and  profitable  exercise,  and  to  his  people  one  of  the 
most  popular  and  useful  services  he  had  ever  rendered. 

In  February,  1807,  he  lost  his  excellent  mother.  "With  characteristic 
appropriateness  and  sensibility  he  preached  a  sermon  on  the  occasion  to  his 
congregation  from  the  text, — "  I  bowed  down  heavily  as  one  that  mourneth 
for  his  mother."  In  a  letter  to  a  near  friend  immediately  after  her  death, 
he  wrote  as  follows  : — "  Our  consolations  rise  out  of  the  review  of  as  pure  a 
life  as  is  ever  witnessed.  She  had  prepared  for  death  by  a  whole  life  of 
constant  and  lively  devotion.  If  ever  children  in  the  world  had  occasion, 
we  have,  to  rise  up  and  call  our  mother  blessed.  Let  us  strive  after  her 
high  attainments  in  faith,  in  temper,  in  devotion,  in  heavenly  mindedness, 
in  liberality  to  the  poor.  But  what  virtue  or  what  grace  can  I  name  iu 
which  she  had  not  attained  excellence  ?  I  have  been  to  spend  alone  a  few 
minutes  in  surveying  her  pale  but  beautiful  countenance  ;  and,  while  con- 
templating it,  endeavoured  to  impress  on  my  mind  her  recollected  counsels, 
and  resolved  never  to  forget  the  mercy  of  God  to  me  in  such  a  mother. 
Let  us  so  live  that  our  death  may  be  calm  and  peaceful ;  and  that  we  may 
ascend  at  last  to  the  happy  world,  where  we  trust  she  is  renewing  her 
devotions  with  purer  joy  and  brighter  fervour,  and  where  we  may  be  the 
crown  of  her  rejoicing  forever," 

In  1809  he  preached  the  Anniversary  Discourse  at  Plymouth  on  the 
Landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  It  was  an  occasion  congenial  with  both  his  taste. 
and  his  talents,  as  the  Sermon  itself  proved. 

In  the  summer  of  1810  there  was  another  season  of  unusual  seriousnessi. 
in  his  congregation.  At  this  period  he  was  in  the  habit  of  exchanging,- 
with  ministers  denominated  "  Orthodox,"  who,  though  they  were  aware 
that  his  religious  views  were  not  all  in  accordance  with  their  own,  yet  con- 


312  Ux\ITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

sidered  liim  as  liolding  so  many  doctrines  in  common  witli  themselves  as 
to  justify  a  fellowship  of  n)inisteriiil  labours.  Subsequently,  however,  a 
change  in  this  respect  gradually  took  place,  as  the  Unitarian  controversy 
advanced,  until  his  exchanges  became  almost  or  altogether  limited  to 
ministers  whose  opinions  were  supposed  to  be  in  substantial  accordance 
with  his  own.  As  his  opinions  on  some  other  subjects  are  known  to  have 
undergone  a  change  in  the  course  of  liis  ministry,  it  would  seem  prol)able 
that  this  was  true  in  respect  to  what  are  commonly  called  "  revivals  of 
religion."  In  a  letter  to  the  Pastor  of  another  Clmrch,  dated  May,  1826, 
he  writes  thus: — "You  will  do  wisely  to  improve  your  time  in  deepening 
the  seriousness  of  your  flock,  and  in  leading  forward  to  ordinances  as  many 
of  the  worthy  as  you  can  ;  wiiile  you  have  the  aid  of  example  in  those  who 
have  already  come,  and  before  your  flock  may  settle  down  in  a  more  cold 
and  formal  state.  Ti»e  Orthodox  have  now  few  to  join  their  cliurches, 
except  in  what  is  technically  called  revivals ;  and  the  effervescence  of  such  a 
season,  while  it  often  brings  excellent  persons  into  the  church,  frequently 
throws  up  to  notice,  and  ranks  with  professors,  those  who  ultimately  bring 
disgrace  upon  them.  It  is  far  more  desirable  to  have  additions  from  the 
sober  on  reflection  than  from  high  excitement;  and  that  persons  sliould  be 
coming  in,  one,  two,  three,  at  a  Communion  season,  than  in  tens  and 
twenties."  And,  in  another  letter  to  the  same  person,  he  writes, — "  I  am 
much  gratified  with  the  religious  state  of  your  parish,  the  increased 
seriousness  and  attention  to  ordinances,  and  all  in  so  calm  and  rational  a 
manner.  A  gradual  and  continual  increase  of  the  number  of  professors  is 
better  than  to  see  an  excited  multitude  coming  in  together.  Sympathy  and 
passion,  the  social  principle  in  one  form  or  another,  have  so  much  to  do  in 
a  general  excitement,  that  you  know  not  how  much  of  enlightened  and  solid 
principle  n)ay  have  to  do  with  the  movement,  nor  how  little  may  remain 
"when  the  wind  has  gone  by." 

Early  in  the  year  181S  his  health  sensibly  declined,  and  it  soon  became 
apparent  that  his  disease  had  more  or  less  connection  with  the  lungs.  In 
the  following  summer  he  tried  the  effect  of  a  journey,  but  without  any 
material  benefit.  In  the  approach  of  the  cold  season,  he  was  advised  by 
his  physicians  to  resort  to  a  milder  climate  ;  and,  after  having  made  the 
requisite  preparation,  he  sailed  from  Boston  for  Charleston,  S.  C,  on  the 
28lh  of  October.  After  a  tempestuous  passage  of  nearly  a  fortnight,  he 
reached  Charleston,  where  he  was  received  with  every  expression  of 
courtesy  and  kindness.  Having  remained  there  about  two  months,  he 
accepted  an  invitation  to  pass  some  time  in  the  family  of  James  Legare, 
Esq.,  on  John's  Island;  and,  while  there,  he,  for  a  short  season,  took 
charge  of  a  small  parish,  preaching  once  on  the  Sabbath.  After  making  a 
short  visit  to  Savannah  in  April,  he  set  out  to  travel  home  by  land  in  the 
month  of  May.  The  journey  proved  highly  beneficial  to  his  health,  as  it 
had  been  gratifying  to  his  taste,  and  curiosity,  and  social  feelings;  and,  on 
his  return,  he  engaged  in  his  professional  labours  with  as  much  earnestness, 
and  apparently  as  much  physical  energy,  as  at  any  preceding  period  of  his 
life. 

His  services  were  often  put  in  requisition  on  important  public  occasions. 
In  1802,  he  delivered  the  Artillery  Election" Sermon,  at  Boston;  iu  1818, 


ABIEL   ABBOT.  313 

tlie  Duflleian  Lecture  at  CambriJgo  ;  in  1823,  the  Annual  Sermon  befure 
the  Society  for  Promoting  Theological  Education  in  Harvard  Univer.sity; 
and  in  1827,  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Convention  of  Congregational 
Ministers  in  Massachusetts. 

In  1821  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

In  the  autumn  of  1827  his  former  complaints  returned  upon  him,  and 
willi  still  more  threatening  aspect.  He,  however,  retained  his  accustomed 
equanimity  of  spirit,  and,  in  a  letter  of  September  21,  he  writes  thus: — 
"For  one  thing  I  cannot  be  sufficiently  thankful  —  my  bad  nerves  inspire 
no  gloom.  In  no  period  of  my  life  have  I  enjoyed  so  much  tranquillity, 
peace,  nay,  let  me  say  it,  joy,  religious  joy,  as  in  the  last  two  or  three 
months.  In  the  review  of  my  life,  the  goodness  of  God  appears  wonderful 
to  me.  My  course,  as  far  as  Providence  is  concerned,  from  childhood, 
seems  a  path  of  light,  without  a  cloud  of  darkness, —  an  unvaried  scene  of 
mercy."  It  became  apparent  that  he  could  not  with  safety  encounter  the 
severity  of  a  Northern  climate  during  the  winter;  and,  accordingly,  on  the 
28th  of  October,  he  again  embarked  at  Boston  for  Charleston,  S.  C,  where 
he  arrived  on  the  6th  of  November.  Having  remained  here  a  few  weeks, 
he  went  again  to  visit  the  family  on  John's  Island,  from  whom  he  had 
previously  met  so  hospitable  a  welcome.  In  this  delightful  retreat  he 
passed  a  month;  when,  in  consequence  of  a  change  in  the  season,  and  the 
prevalence  of  cold  winds,  he  determined  to  embark  for  the  Island  of  Cuba. 
He  sailcil  on  the  9th  of  February,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the  IGlli,  the 
hiiih  hills  of  Cuba  were  descried.  Immediately  after  his  arrival  at 
Matanzas,  he  was  induced  to  go  into  the  interior  to  visit  a  friend  ;  and  he 
romaiiied  there  for  several  weeks,  amidst  scenes  of  grandeur  and  novelty 
that  greatly  impressed  him.  After  this,  he  spent  a  few  weeks  in  Matanzas, 
and  its  vicinity,  and  then  travelled,  in  company  with  some  friends  and  a 
Spanish  guide,  to  Havanna  ;  whence,  after  stopping  there  for  a  day  or  two, 
lie  embarked,  on  the  2G(h  of  May,  for  Charleston.  He  arrived  on  Satur- 
day, the  31st  of  May  ;  and,  finding  that  a  packet  was  to  sail  for  New  York 
on  iMonday  following,  he  immediately  resolved  to  take  passage  in  it.  On 
Sunday  morning,  he  attended  the  Archdale  Church,  and  heard  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Gilman  preach  ;  and  in  the  afternoon  delivered  an  extemporaneous 
discourse  himself,  with  great  animation  and  interest,  from  the  words, — 
"  God  said,  let  there  be  light," — the  design  of  which  was  to  contrast  the 
spiritual  darkness  of  the  region  he  had  just  left  behind  with  the  glorious 
light  with  which  our  own  country  is  favoured.  On  Monday  he  embarked 
in  the  Othello  for  New  York;  and,  on  the  first  day  of  the  passage,  seemed 
in  his  usual  health  and  spirits.  The  next  day,  however,  he  was  taken  ill, 
though  no  serious  apprehensions  were  awakened  concerning  him.  Having 
continued  in  a  feeble  state  during  the  week,  on  Saturday  morning,  as  the 
ship  was  approaching  quarantine,  he  arose,  dressed  himself,  and  went  on 
deck.  His  respiration  soon  became  difficult,  and  violent  bleeding  ensued. 
Being  asked  by  one  of  the  passengers  if  he  felt  alarmed,  he  replied, — "  No, 
I  am  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  I  trust  He  will  take  care  of  me."  But  scarcely 
had  these  words  passed  from  his  lips  before  it  was  perceived  that  death  had 
done   its   work.      The  disease   had   undoubtedly   been   contracted    in    the 


314  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

climate  to  which  he  had  gone  for  relief.  He  liad  endeared  himself  greatly 
to  his  fellow  passengers  by  his  intelligent  conversatiun  and  gentle  and 
attractive  manners.  His  remains  were  interred  on  Staten  I.sland,  the 
Funeral  service  being  performed  Ity  the  Rev.  Mr.  Miller,  of  tiie  lleformed 
Dutch  Church.  The  tidings  of  his  death  produced  the  deepest  sensation  at 
lieverly,  where  a  Funeral  Discourse  wars  delivered  by  the  ilev.  ])r.  Flint 
of  Salem,  which  was  afterwards  published.  When  the  intelligence  was 
received  at  Cliarleston,  a  meeting  was  held  in  the  Second  Independent 
Church,  and  Resolutions  passed  expressive  of  their  high  estimate  of  Dr. 
Abbot's  character,  and  of  their  cordial  sympathy  with  his  bereaved  family 
and  congregation. 

I  first  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Abbot  in  the  spring  of  1811,  under 
circumstances  which  showed  some  of  his  more  prominent  traits  of  character 
to  great  advantage.  His  brother-in  law,  ihe  llev.  Abiel  Abbot  of  Coven- 
try, who  was  then  conducting  my  studies  preparatory  to  College,  was 
arraigned  by  the  Consociation  of  Tolland  County  to  answer  to  eertiiiu 
charges  of  heresy  [Unitarianism]  that  weie  made  against  him.  Mr.  Abbot, 
•with  his  parish,  (in  distinction  from  the  church,)  refused  to  recognize  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  body  which  had  assembled  to  try  him  ;  ami  Dr.  Abbot 
was  present  to  render  his  brother  .vnch  aid  as  the  exigency  might  demand. 
He  expected  to  make  a  public  defence  in  the  course  of  the  trial,  and  had 
made  some  general  preparation  for  it;  Imt  the  occasion  for  his  speaking 
came  earlier  than  he  expected,  and  took  him  somewhat  by  surprise.  The 
effort,  however,  in  respect  to  skill  and  self  command,  and  eloquent  appeal, 
was  Worthy  of  the  best  ecclesiastical  lawyer  in  the  land.  He  began  by 
expressing  his  high  respect  for  the  venerable  fathers  and  brethren  among 
whom  he  found  himself,  and  apologizing  for  the  somewhat  embarrassing 
attitude  in  which  his  affection  for  his  brother,  no  less  than  his  sense  of 
duty,  had  placed  him.  He  distinctly  stated  that  it  was  no  part  of  his 
object  to  appear  as  an  a<lvocate  of  his  brother's  peculiar  religious  views, 
and  moreover  he  hesitated  not  to  say  that  his  own  views  were  not,  m  all 
respects,  in  accordance  with  them.  And,  after  having  adroitly  managed  to 
disarm  opposition,  so  far  as  it  could  be  disarmed,  and  to  prepossess  the 
audience  strongly  in  his  favour,  he  proceeded  to  present  the  strong  points 
of  his  case  with  such  inimitable  simplicity,  such  admirable  self  possession, 
and  such  bland  and  attractive  eloquence,  as  to  the  mass  of  his  auditors  was 
perfectly  irresistible.  He  did  not  indeed  succeed  in  procuring  his  brother's 
acquittal;  for  he  was  not  only  dismissed  from  his  church,  but  virtually 
deposed  from  his  office  ;  but  the  result  was  not  for  want  of,  but  in  spite  of, 
a  most  vigorous  and  impressive  effort  in  his  favour.  The  ministers  of  the 
Consociation  were  treated  throughout  with  perfect  respect,  and  with  win- 
ning and  graceful  kindness;  and,  notwithstanding  the  great  excitement 
which  attended  the  occasion,  and  the  deep  anxiety  which  was  felt  in  the 
result,  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  heard  from  an  individual  the  least 
reflection  upon  the  frankness  and  the  fairness  which  marked  Dr.  Abbot's 
defence. 

Subsequently  to  this,  my  opportunities  for  intercourse  with  Dr.  Abbot 
were  not  frequent,  and  yet  I  saw  him  several  times,  chiefly  in  his  own 
family.    There  he  was  certainly  a  model  of  dignity  and  affection.    I  always 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  315 

found  liiin  gentle  and  hospitable,  entertaining  and  iiistruetive.  lie  was 
remarkable,  as  it  seems  to  nie,  above  almost  any  other  man  whom  I  have 
known,  for  always  saying  the  pertinent  thing  and  saying  it  in  the  most 
felicitous  manner.  When  President  Monroe  made  a  journey  through  New 
England,  in  1<^16,  he  breakfasted  with  Dr.  Abbot  at  the  house  of  one  of 
his  parishioners;  and,  on  his  return  to  Virginia,  he  is  said  to  have 
remarked  that  the  finest  thing  he  had  heard,  during  his  whole  tour,  was 
the  askino'  of  a  blessing  at  the  table  by  a  Mr.  Abbot  of  Beverly. 

At  the  commeneeincnt  of  his  ministry  he  is  understood  to  liave  been  a 
believer  iu  the  commonly  received  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  ;  but,  at  a  pretty 
early  period, — probably  before  leaving  Haverhill, — his  views  on  that  point 
underwent  some  change.  I  know  of  nothing  positive,  in  his  publislied  ser- 
mons, from  which  his  particular  views  of  that  subject  could  be  inferred. 

I  never  heard  Dr.  Abbot  preach  but  two  sermons,  and  those  were  at 
Coventry,  on  the  Sabbath  immediately  preceding  the  trial  of  his  brother. 
His  manner,  as  I  remember  it,  was  uncommonly  felicitous  and  engaging. 
It  was  more  like  that  of  the  celebrated  William  Jay  than  of  any  other  per- 
son whom  I  ever  heard.  There  was  a  gracefulness,  a  tenderness,  an  ear- 
nestness, that  would  not  let  me  look  away  from  the  preacher,  or  allow  me 
to  think  of  any  thing  but  what  he  was  saying.  One  of  the  sermons  which 
I  heard  from  him  was  on  the  "Intercession  of  Christ,"  and  was  afterwards 
published  in  a  V(dume  entitled  "  Sermons  to  Mariners."  The  following  is 
an  extract  from  it  : — 

"  Let  it  be  previously  remarked  that  the  Gospel  is  a  religion  adapted  to  beings  sinful 
and  ruined.  It  comes  to  mankind,  as  in  a  state  of  woful  dftection  from  God  ;  as  guilty 
and  exposed  to  fearl'ul  punislinient ;  as  wretched  and  without  power  to  relieve  them- 
selves. This  is  the  current  statement  of  Scri|)ture;  and  I  add  that  the  truth  of  the 
melanchiily  account  is  Cdntirmed  by  reason  and  observation.  Tlie  corrui)ti()ns  even  of 
the  best,  of  which  they  are  dee])Iy  sensible,  and  which  tiiey  continually  strive  to  sub- 
due, the  willing  profligacy  of  others,  and,  in  short,  the  miserable  and  wicked  state  of 
the  whole  world,  are  facts  too  obvious  to  be  denied  or  disguised.  They  have  been 
acknowledged  in  the  moral  writings  of  heathens,  in  terms  not  dissimilar  to  those  of  the 
sacred  writers.  To  this  darkened,  corrupt  and  wretched  state  of  the  woild  correspond 
the  offices  which  the  Divine  Itedeemer  is  represented  as  sustaining.  '  Uiion  Uim  is  laid 
help,'  and  He  is  '  miglity  to  save  ;'  therefore  we  are  liable  to  ruin.  He  came  to  '  pro- 
claim liberty  to  the  cajitives  ;'  then  we  are  in  bondage.  He  came  to  '  redeem  us  by 
his  precious  blood  ;'  therefore  we  must  have  ))erished,  if  left  without  a  ransom  ;  for 
there  is  nothing  superfluous  in  the  Divine  economy.  As  lie  is  '  the  light  of  the  world,' 
it  was  in  darkness  without  Him  ;  and  as  He  is  'the  Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh  away 
the  sins  of  the  world,'  the  world  needed  that  wonderful  propitiation. 

"  The  reasons  of  this  Divine  scheme  we  may  not  be  able  fully  to  comprehend  :  it  is 
sufficient  that  it  is  revealed,  and  that  the  seal  of  Heaven  is  affixed  to  this  overture  of 
mercy  to  a  perishing  world.  But  can  we  not  perceive  that  it  is  most  happily  adapted, 
in  all  its  wonderful  apparatus,  to  engage  the  attention,  to  command  the  confidence,  and 
to  excite  the  affections,  of  beings  in  such  a  state  as  ours  ?  Let  us  consider  it  for  a 
moment. 

"  God  is  an  infinite  being  and  a  holy  Sovereign  :  and  man  is  a  tran.sgressor  of  his 
law.  which  is  holy,  just  and  good  ;  and  therefore  a  criminal  under  his  most  equal  and 
beneficent  Government.  The  Divine  Governor  being  invisible,  and  at  an  infinite  exalta- 
tion above  his  fa'len  subjects,  there  was  a  suspicion  that  he  was  just  rather  than  mer- 
ciful, and  a  consequent  alienation  from  Him.  This  was  the  frame  of  mind  in  the  first 
sinners,  who  therefore  sought  to  '  hide  themselves  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord  God 
among  the  trees  of  the  garden.' 

"  Such,  however,  was  the  mercy  of  God  that  He  would  not  utterly  and  at  once  aban- 
don his  wretched  creatures  to  destruction  ;  and  such  his  majesty  and  holiness  that  He 
would  not  immediately  announce  to  the  guilty  the  terms  of  reconciliation.  It  was  his 
pleasure  to  resort  to  a  scheme  which  displays  his  perfections  in  glorious  harmony  ;  ia 
which  a  ])lace  is  found  for  mercy,  while  his  awful  attributes  of  justice  and  holiness  are 
fully  preserved — a  plan,  in  which  '  mercy  and  truth  meet  together,  righteousness  and 


316  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

peace  kiss  each  other' — '  truth  might  spring  out  of  the  earth  and  righteousness  might 
look  down  from  Heaven.' 

"  This  Divine  plan  was  the  appointment  of  a  Mediator,  who  should  be  able  to  save 
to  the  uttermost  them  that  come  unto  God  by  Him'  as  He  should  '  ever  live  to  make 
intercession  for  them  ' — a  Mediator  who  should  bring  sinners  to  repentance,  and  give 
an  honorable  eflicac}'  to  tliat  repentance,  by  his  own  expiatorj'  sacrifice  ;  and  should 
present  their  cries  and  tears  for  mercy  to  God,  purified  and  rendered  acceptable  bv  his 
own  intercession." 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Abbot's  publications  : — 
Memorial  of  Divine  Benefits  :  A  Sermon  preached  at  Exeter  on  the 
15th,  and  at  Haverhill  on  the  29th,  of  November,  Days  of  Public  Thanks- 
giving in  New  Hampshire  and  Massachusetts,  1798.  Traits  of  Resem- 
blance in  the  People  of  the  United  States  of  America  to  Ancient  Israel: 
A  Sermon  preached  at  Haverhill,  on  the  Annual  Thanksgiving,  1799. 
Eulogy  on  the  Life  and  Character  of  Washington,  delivered,  by  request, 
before  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Haverhill,  on  his  Birth-day,  1800. 
The  Duty  of  Youth:  A  Sermon  occasioned  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Sarah 
Ayer,  of  Haverhill,  1802.  Self-preservation  :  A  Sermon  preached  before 
the  Ancient  and  Honourable  Artillery  Company,  in  Boston,  on  the  Anni- 
versary of  their  Election  of  Officers,  1802.  The  Mariner's  Manual :  A 
Sermon  preached  in  Beverly,  1804.  Introductory  Address  at  the  Ordina- 
tion of  the  Rev.  David  T.  Kimball,*  in  Ip.swich,  1806.  A  Discourse 
delivered  before  the  Portsmouth  Female  Asylum,  1807.  A  Discourse 
delivered  at  Plymouth,  at  the  Celebration  of  the  188th  Anniversary  of  the 
Landing  of  our  Forefathers,  1809.  A  Father's  Reasons  for  Baptizing  his 
Infant  Child  :  A  Discourse  delivered  at  Beverly,  1812.  Sermons  to  Jlari- 
ners, — (a  duodecimo  volume,)  1812.  An  Address  before  the  Massachu- 
setts Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance,  1815.  A  Discourse 
before  the  Missionary  Society  of  Salem  and  Vicinity,  and  the  Essex  South 
Musical  Society,  1816.  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Bible  Society 
of  Salem  and  its  Vicinity,  on  their  Anniversary,  1817.  The  Parent's  As- 
sistant and  Sunday  School  Book,  1822.  Charge  at  the  Ordination  of  the 
Rev.  B.  Whitman,  1826.  Address  before  the  Berry  Street  Conference, 
1826.  Eeclesiastical  Peace  recommended  :  A  Discourse  before  the  An- 
nual Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers  of  Massachusetts,  1827. 
The  Example  of  the  First  Preachers  of  the  Gospel  considered  :  A  Sermon 
at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot  in  the  Congregational  Church 
in  Peterborough,  N.  H.,  1827.  Letters  written  in  the  Interior  of  Cuba, 
between  the  Mountains  of  Arcana  to  the  East,  and  of  Cusco  to  the  West,  in 

*  David  Tenney  Kimbali,,  a  son  of  Daniel  and  Elizabeth  (Tenney)  Kimball,  was  born 
in  Bradford,  Mass.,  November  23,  1782.  He  fitted  for  College,  partly  under  the  instruction 
of  Moses  Dow,  of  Atkinson,  N.  H.,  (afterwards  the  Rev.  Moses  Dow,  of  Beverly,  Mass.,) 
and  partly  at  the  Atkinson  Academy,  under  the  Hon.  John  Vose,  as  Preceptor.  He  entered 
Harvard  College  in  1799,  and  graduated  an  excellent  scholar,  in  1803.  For  one  year  after 
his  graduation,  he  was  a  teacher  in  Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  and  then  commenced  bis 
theological  studies  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Jonathan  French.  He  commenced 
preaching  in  March,  1805,  and  was  engaged  immediately  to  supply  the  pulpit  in  Ipswich.  On 
the  17th  of  June,  1806,  that  congregation  unanimously  invited  him  to  become  their  Pastor, 
and,  having  accepted  their  invitation,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  there  on  the  8th  of 
October,  1806.  Here  he  laboured  with  great  diligence  and  faithfulness,  for  nearly  forty 
years,  before  he  was  relieved  by  a  colleague.  For  ten  or  twelve  years,  he  instructed  the 
children  of  his  parish,  at  the  meeting-house,  and  at  his  own  dwelling-house,  in  the  Assem- 
bly's Catechism.  He  was  a  man  of  great  conscientiousness,  modesty  and  humility.  He  was 
married  October  12,  1807,  to  Dolly  Varnum  Coburn,  daughter  of  Capt.  Peter  and  Mrs.  Eliza- 
beth Coburn,  of  Dracut,  and  had  seven  children, —  five  sons  and  two  daughters.  He  died  at 
Ipswich,  on  the  3d  of  February,  1800,  aged  seventy-seven  years. 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  317 

the  months  of  February,  March,  April  and  May,  1828,  (an  octavo  vol- 
ume.) A  Second  volume  of  Sermons,  in  connection  with  a  Memoir  of  the 
Author'a  Life,  by  his  Son-in-law,  the  llev.  S.  Everett,  1831. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

New  York,  April  15,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir  :  I  avail  m3^self  of  a  brief  interval  of  leisure,  during  my  sojourn 
in  this  city,  to  communicate  to  you  such  reminiscences  of  the  Pastor  of  my 
boyliood,  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D.,  of  Beverly,  as  may  aid  you  in  a  sketch 
of  his  life  and  character  for  your    fortlicoming  work. 

I  always  think  of  Dr.  Abbot  as  pre-eminently  distinguished  by  his  native 
and  acquired  endowments  for  the  office  of  a  Parish  Minister.  His  peculiar 
felicities  of  manner,  mind  and  character,  were  all  such  as  came  into  constant 
exercise  in  his  profession,  while  his  deficiencies  were  such  as  could  not  inter- 
fere with  his  acceptance  and  usefulness  in  his  own  appropriate  sphere.  An 
utter  stranger  could  not  have  been  five  minutes  in  his  society  without  being 
impressed  with  the  blended  dignity  and  suavity  of  his  countenance  and  manner. 
His  face  seemed  incapable  of  austerity  or  sternness  ;  yet  the  smile  which  never 
left  his  features,  never  settled  upon  them,  but,  by  its  incessant  and  luminous 
play,  indicated  the  constant  activity  of  the  kindest  sentiments  and  emotions. 
At  the  same  time,  there  was  a  sort  of  solemnity  pervading  his  every  look  and 
utterance,  which  checked  the  remotest  approach  to  levity  in  his  presence,  and 
made  one  feel  that  he  never  laid  aside  the  consciousness  of  his  sacred  calling. 
His  conversational  powers  were  singularly  rich  and  attractive.  In  a  social 
circle,  without  exacting,  he  always  engrossed,  attention.  In  a  well  iilled  par- 
lour, when  he  was  present,  the  separate  gioui)s  would  gradually  dissolve 
themselves,  and  the  tete-a-tete  conversations  would  cease,  and  the  whole  com- 
pany would  remain  delighted  listeners,  till  tlie  sober  hour  of  ten  reminded 
them  how  fast  and  how  unconsciously  the  evening  had  glided  away.  On  such 
occasions,  though  religious  subjects  were  never  obtruded,  yet  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  tell  an  anecdote,  describe  an  adventure,  or  discourse  on  a  topic 
of  history  or  science,  without  dropping  some  hint,  suggestive  of  Providence, 
duty,  or  accountableness.  Had  I  his  skill,  or  more  properly  spenking  his 
unartificial  tact,  of  communicating  religious  thought  and  impulse  indirectly, 
I  should  deem  it  the  part  of  wisdom  in  me  almost  never  to  assume  in  private 
the  form  of  direct  address  on  religious  themes.  He  liad  travelled  much,  and 
■with  open  eyes  and  heart;  and,  as  I  have  since  viewed  many  of  the  scenes  which 
I  have  heard  him  describe,  my  .sentiments  of  beauty,  awe  and  adoration  have 
hardly  been  more  vivid,  than  when  his  description  made  me  familiar  with  them 
in  my  boyhood. 

His  social  sympathies  were  quick  and  tender.  Though,  in  a  parish  three 
times  as  large  as  most  of  our  large  New  England  parishes  are  now,  he  could, 
by  the  most  assiduous  pastoral  visiting,  spend  but  little  time  with  the  indi- 
vidual members  of  his  flock,  they  all  felt  that  they  were  borne  on  his  heart  in 
all  their  joys  and  sorrows,  nor  was  there  a  single  family  which  did  not  deem 
him  virtually  one  of  themselves.  The  sick  and  dying,  the  afflicted,  poor,  soli- 
tary and  aged,  occupied  the  greater  part  of  his  time  ;  but  those  in  health  and 
prosperity,  though  they  seldom  saw  him,  except  by  their  express  invitation, 
never  felt  themselves  neglected. 

The  children  of  his  flock  were  peculiarly  dear  to  him.  He  knew  them  all  by 
name,  and  never  passed  one  of  them  without  a  kind  word.  He  took  great 
interest  in  the  public  schools,  attended  all  their  examinations  as  Chairman  of 
the  school  committee,  almost  uniformly  addressed  them,  and  sore  was  the  dis- 
appointment when,  from  courtesy,  he  devolved  that  office  upon  another.     No 


318  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

reward  was  so  eagerly  souglit  or  so  highly  piized  as  his  recognition  of  peculiar 
proficiency  or  excellence.  I  well  rcmeniher  his  public  '<  catecliizings  "  before 
tile  fornialion  of  our  parish  Sunday  School,  and,  (contrary  to  the  usual  testi- 
mony with  regard  to  these  exercises,)  they  were  gladly  and  eagerly  thronged, 
and  I  doubt  whether  parental  authority  was  ever  employed  to  coerce  attend- 
ance. 

His  home  was  happy.  His  house  proffered  unstinted  hospitality,  and  sel- 
dom was  without  guests  from  abroad,  while  all  classes  of  his  parishioners 
found  an  open  and  cordial  welcome  there.  My  intimacj''  with  his  j'ounger 
children  led  nie  to  resort  thither  in  season  and  out  of  season,  yet  never  out 
of  season;  for  I  was  never  happier  than  when  a  call  a  little  too  early  in  the 
morning  brought  me  into  the  circle  at  the  hour  of  family  praj^er.  At  this  sea- 
son the  tine  parlour  organ  was  always  put  in  requisition,  and  a  hymn  appropri- 
ate either  to  the  season  or  to  the  Scripture  lesson  of  the  morning,  was  read 
and  sung, — he  himself  taking  the  lead  in  a  voice  of  gi'eat  compass  and  power, 
and  joined  b}^  at  least  five  or  six  voices  from  his  own  domestic  choir;  then 
followed  the  pra3er,  which  alwaj'S  seemed  the  outpouring  of  a  heart  so  full  of 
gratitude  for  the  blessings  and  joys  of  a  Christian  home,  as  hardly  to  find  scope 
for  petition.  And  the  spirit  of  the  morning  prayer  seemed  to  rest  on  the  whole 
family  through  the  day,  in  contentment,  cheerful  activity,  unruffled  harmony 
and  overflowing  kindness,  rendering  a  day's  life  under  their  roof  a  beautiful 
commentary  on  that  precious  text  of  St.  Paul, — "  The  church  that  is  in  thy 
house." 

As  a  Preacher  Dr.  Abbot  was  at  once  calm  and  fervent,  never  dull,  sel- 
dom impassioned.  His  utterance  was  distinct  and  deliberate,  and  the  modu- 
lations of  his  voice  natural  and  graceful.  He  used,  if  I  remember  right,  but 
little  of  what  is  commonly  called  gesture  ;  yet  eye,  face  and  attitude  all  helped 
him  preach,  and  seemed- to  lend  themselves  spontaneously  to  the  impression 
which  he  was  labouring  to  produce.  His  subjects  wei'e  almost  alwaj's  of  the 
class  denominated  evangelical  ;  but  his  texts  were  full  as  often  from  the  Old 
Testament  as  from  the  New  ;  and  he  was  peculiarly  fond  both  of  tracing  the 
Gospel  in  its  types  and  foreshadowings,  and  of  engrafting  Gospel  lessons  on 
striking  passages  of  Jewish  biography  and  history.  I  find  in  my  own  memory 
some  of  the  narratives  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  which  are  now  very  seldom 
referred  to,  standing  out  conspicuously,  and  garnished  with  edifying  practical 
comments  from  his  lips.  He  preached  a  great  many  expository  sermons,  to 
the  composition  of  which  he  brought  the  best  scholarship  of  his  day,  together 
with  the  workings  of  a  mind  ready  to  find  gold  and  diamonds  beneath  the  sur- 
face of  all  Scripture.  Perhaps  his  greatest  merit  as  a  preacher  was  the  uni- 
form adaptation  of  his  sermons  to  time,  place  and  circumstances.  There 
always  seemed  some  reason  why  each  sermon  should  be  preached  then  and 
there.  His  best  sermons  were  strictl}'  occasional  ;  and  when  the  posthumous 
volume  of  his  published  sermons  first  appeared,  I  found  that  the  most  strik- 
ing passages  of  several  of  them  were  omitted,  as  too  exclusively  local  for  pub- 
lication, and  their  place  supplied  b}^  asterisks.  On  this  account,  as  Avell  as 
from  the  impossibilit}^  of  printing  his  look  and  manner,  that  volume  fails  to 
do  justice  to  his  real  reputation  and  power  as  a  preacher. 

His  devotional  services  were  peculiarly  interesting  and  impressive.  In  them 
he  took  distinct  cognizance  of  all  events  of  public  and  general  interest,  and  of 
whatever  events  in  the  town  or  parish  could,  bj'  any  possibility,  find  place  in 
an  exercise  of  social  devotion,  and  all  this,  without  ever  offering  what  has 
been  termed  a  gossiping  prayer.  So  far  from  letting  down  the  dignitj'  of  the 
service  by  this  minuteness,  he,  on  the  other  hand,  elevated  and  sanctified  even 
trivial  incidents  by  the  sustained  dignity  and  fervour  with  which  he  spread 
out  before  the  Most  High  in  thanksgiving  or  supplication  the  blessings,  sorrows 


ABIEL    ABBOT.  319 

and  needs  of  individuals  or  the  community.  During  his  whole  lifetime,  and 
no  doubt  in  great  part  on  account  of  the  unfailing  edification  derived  from  his 
style  of  public  prayer,  his  people  retained  the  habit  of  sending  in  notes,  not 
only  on  the  death  of  friends,  but  in  sickness,  on  the  birth  of  children,  when 
bound  to  sea,  or  on  their  return  from  voyages,  however  brief.  I  counted  on 
one  occasion  seventeen  of  these  notes.  He  seldom  grouped  them,  and  when  he 
did,  he  always  individualized  cases  of  special  interest.  On  most  occasions  he 
referred  to  each  case  bj"  itself,  generally  from  memory,  though  he  sometimes 
placed  the  entire  pile  of  notes  on  the  pulpit  cushion,  and  glanced  his  eye  at 
them  successively.  And  such  was  the  copiousness  and  unstudied  variety  of 
his  devotional  language,  that  Vie  never  seemed  to  repeat  himself,  and  these 
numerous  details  onl}^  added  to  the  richness,  beauty  and  fervour  of  his 
prayers. 

Both  as  a  Preacher  and  Pastor  he  manifested  an  exemplary  prudence  ; — 
exemplary  I  saj', — for  it  was  the  prudence  not  of  a  time-server,  but  of  one 
Avho,  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  sought  to  remove  whatever  might  serve  as 
a  snare  or  a  stumbling  block  to  any.  He  made  no  compromise  with  sin  ;  and 
while  he  commemorated  the  religious  worth  of  all  who  died  in  the  faith  of  the 
Gospel,  he  uniformly  withheld  the  funeral  eulogy,  where  a  life,  however  hon- 
ourable in  its  worldly  aspects,  had  not  received  its  highest  consecration  by 
Christian  principle  and  profession.  Nor,  wlien  there  had  been  connected  with 
the  death  of  an  individual  circumstances  adapted  for  admonition,  did  he 
slirink  fiom  the  painful  duty;  yet,  in  such  cases,  he  performed  it  with  an  admi- 
rable, kindly  skill,  which  at  once  spared  the  feelings  of  friends,  and  sent  the 
lesson  home  in  full  force  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that  Dr.  Abbot  concealed  his  theological  opinions,  and 
practised  a  temporizing  policy  with  regard  to  the  points  at  issue  between  the 
two  great  parties  into  which  the  Congregational  Body  was  divided.  I  am  able 
to  say,  from  very  distinct  remembrance,  that  there  was  no  ground  for  this 
charge.  I  can  call  to  mind  sermons  in  which  he  maintained  explicitly  the 
inferiority  of  the  Son  to  the  Father,  and  other. doctrines  which  form  no  part 
of  the  creed  of  the  "  Orthodox  "  school.  Indeed,  I  had  no  more  doubt  of  the 
views  of  Christian  doctrine  which  he  entertained,  than  I  have  of  those  which  I 
have  been  accustomed  to  recognize  in  my  own  preaching.  He  was  a  high 
Arian  ;  and  when,  after  his  death,  I  first  read  Dr.  Price's  '<  Sermons  on 
Christian  Doctrine,"  I  thought  that  I  could  recognize  almost  precisely  the 
form  of  belief  which  I  had  been  accustomed  to  hear  set  forth  by  our  Pastor. 

There  were  no  doubt  several  circumstances  that  served  to  give  colour  to  the 
charge  of  concealment  to  which  I  have  referred.  Among  them  was  the  fact 
that  nearly  half  his  congregation  consisted  of  Trinitarian  Calvinists,  who  left 
the  parish  before  or  shortly  after  the  settlement  of  his  successor.  I  think  that 
all,  and  know  that  manj',  of  these  were  fully  aware  how  far  his  theological 
opinions  differed  from  theirs  ;  but  I  know  also  how  strong  and  intimate  was 
their  attachment  to  his  person  and  character,  so  as  to  render  the  disruption  of 
the  parish  absolutely  impossible  while  he  lived,  though  it  had  long  been 
regarded  as  inevitable  whenever  he  should  be  removed. 

Then,  too,  there  was  an  important  point  in  which  his  sympathies  were  sin- 
cerely enlisted  with  the  Calvinistic  portion  of  the  church.  He  had  great  con- 
fidence in  "Revival  measures,"  and  at  two,  if  not  three,  different  periods  of 
his  ministry,  employed  the  usual  means  of  extra  services  and  inquiry  meet- 
ings ;  and  these  measures,  though  he  regarded  and  represented  them  as  the 
result  of  his  own  independent  judgment  and  deliberate  choice,  may  have  sub- 
jected him  to  the  imputation  of  seeking  to  identify  himself  with  a  portion  of 
the  Church  other  than  that  to  which  he  belonged  by  his  theological  sympa 
thies. 


320  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

He  Avas  also  earnestly  solicitous  to  unite  the  divided  portions  of  the  Chris- 
tian Body.  He  loved  to  dwell  on  points  of  agreement  rather  than  difference. 
He  made  every  possible  concession  for  the  sake  of  peace.  He  sincerely  loved 
good  men  of  every  name,  and  was  desirous  of  conciliating  their  reciprocal 
esteem  and  aflection.  Those  not  of  his  flock  might  easily  have  supposed  that 
these  pacific  expressions  and  overtures  were  made  at  the  expense  of  entire 
frankness  and  explicitness  as  to  his  own  views  ;  but  with  those  who  sitatedly 
listened  to  his  preaching  he  left  no  room  for  tliis  suspicion. 

I  was  piesent  the  last  time  he  appeared  before  his  people,  just  as  he  was 
embarking  for  Cuba.  His  health  was  too  much  inipaiied  to  adnut  of  his 
preaching.  At  the  close  of  the  afternoon  sernion,  he  opened  the  Bible  and 
read  the  passage  of  Scripture,  in  whicli  Samuel,  in  his  old  age,  takes  a  stone 
and  sets  it  up  between  Mizpeh  and  Shen,  calling  it  Ebenezer,  and  saying, — 
"  Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  me."  At  those  words  he  closed  the  Bible, 
and  said,  with  the  calmness  of  deep  emotion, — "  Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped 
me."  He  then  offered  a  brief  review  of  the  aims  and  outward  results  of  his 
ministry,  referred  to  the  strong  probability  that  he  was  then  standing  in  the 
pulpit  for  the  last  time,  expressed  his  entire  willingness  to  entrust  his  future 
to  Him  who  <<  docth  all  things  well,"  and  invoked  a  parting  blessing  upon  his 
flock.  The  address  and  the  closing  prayer  and  benediction  constituted  the 
most  deeply  affecting  service  that  I  ever  attended  ; — the  more  so  from  his  per- 
fectly calm,  quiet  and  self  collected  manner,  indicating  a  serenity  of  spirit  too 
profound  for  agitation  or  disturbance.  The  result  of  his  voyage,  the  restora- 
tion of  his  health  by  his  winter's  residence  at  Cuba,  and  his  death  by  fever  on 
his  homeward  passage  from  Charleston,  are  known  to  you  through  the  Memoir 
prefixed  to  his  Sermons. 

I  have  given  you  his  character,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  and  I  believe  to  all, 
who  sat  under  his  ministry.  If  my  sketch  seem  highly  coloured,  you  must 
impute  it  to  the  near  and  dear  relation  in  which  he  stood  to  me,  and  to  the  fact 
that  his  kindness  is  most  intimately  associated  with  so  many  of  the  happiest 
remembrances  of  my  early  life. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir, 

Sincerely  Yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 


JACOB  ABBOT. 

1795—1834. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ABIEL  ABBOT,  D.  D. 

West  Cambridge,  May  25,  1858. 

My  dear  Sir :  I  cannot  refuse  your  request  for  some  account  of  my 
lamented  brother,  the  Rev.  Jacob  Abbot ;  though  his  early  history  was  so 
blended  with  my  own  that  it  will  be  difficult  for  me  to  do  what  you  ask  and 
avoid  the  appearance  of  egotism.  I  shall  confine  myself  chiefly  to  a  state- 
ment of  the  more  important  facts  in  his  life,  and  these  will  supply,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  the  material  from  which  to  form  an  estimate  of  his 
character. 

Jacob  Abbot,  a  son  of  Major  Abiel  Abbot  and  Dorcas  his  wife,  was 
born  in  Wilton,  N.  II.,  on  *he  7th  of  January,  1768.     He  was  my  play- 


JACOB    ABBOT.  321 

mate  from  early  childhood.  He  was  not  irascible,  turbulent  or  obstinate. 
I  have  no  recollection  that  any  quarrel  ever  existed  between  hiiu  and  any 
of  hi's  brothers,  or  that  he  was  ever  guilty  of  any  impertinence  or  ill-tem- 
per towards  his  parents  or  superiors.  As.  soon  as  we  were  able,  we  were 
required  to  ass-ist  our  mother  by  taking  care  of  the  younger  children  ;  and, 
as  we  grew,  there  were  many  things  in  which  we  could  assist  our  father. 
My  brother  was  industrious,  quiet,  uncomplaining,  and  ever  ready  to  dis- 
charge every  duty  that  devolved  upon  him.  He  was  always  my  companion. 
We  were  habituated  early  to  obey  our  parents,  and  it  was  our  happiness 
to  do  so.  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  ever  known  of  his  being  guilty  of  an 
instance  of  falsehood,  or  prevarication,  or  deceit:  of  uttering  a  profane 
word,  or  endeavouring  to  provoke  or  irritate  his  playmates.  Like  other 
boys,  he  was  fund  of  play,  and  was  probably  sometimes  chafed  and  vexed ; 
but  he  was  never  boisterous,  harsh  and  noisy.  He  was  always  cheerful, 
obliging,  pleasant.  It  was  not  often  that  we  found  boys  to  play  with, 
there  being  none  in  the  neighbourhood  of  our  age  ;  and  when  we  went  to 
school,  especially  in  the  summer,  we  found  there  many  more  girls  than 
boys.  The  schools  were  kept  for  short  terms,  and  the  teachers  were  not 
well  instructed.  It  was  the  practice  of  all  the  members  of  the  family,  as 
far  as  possible,  to  attend  public  worship  on  the  Sabbath,  though  the 
meeting-house  was  distant  three  miles,  and  the  greater  part  of  us  were 
obliged  to  walk.  We  were  required  very  strictly  to  observe  the  Sabbath. 
It  was  the  practice  of  our  parents  to  hear  us  read  and  to  read  themselves; 
and  Sunday  after  meeting  we  were  constantly  taught  the  Assembly's  Cate- 
chism and  some  short  hymns. 

Jacub  was  a  good  scholar  for  that  day,  and  was  always  unexceptionable 
in  his  deportment.  When  he  was  about  twelve  years  old,  I  went  awa}'  tO' 
schoul,  and  was  not  much  with  him  except  in  vacations.  He  continued  to- 
labour  on  the  farm  diligently,  except  that  he  attended  school  for  about 
eight  weeks  in  tl»e  winter  till  he  was  eighteen  years  old.  The  winter 
schools  were  much  improved  after  1781-82,  as  care  was  taken  to  procure 
better  qualified  teachers.  In  1786  he  went  to  the  Andover  Academy, 
and  remained  there  for  about  a  year  ;  but  the  next  year  he  returned  to- 
Wilton,  and  prosecuted  his  studies  in  preparation  for  College,  under  a  Mr.^ 
Birge,  a  very  competent  teacher,  who  had  now  opened  a  school  in  that 
place. 

He  entered  the  Freshman  class  in  Harvard  College,  in  July,  1788, 
when  he  was  in  his  twenty-first  year.  Here  he  was  intimately  associated 
with  his  cousin,  (afterwards  the  Rev.  Dr.  Abiel  Abbot,  of  Beverly,) 
who  was  also  his  classmate,  and  whose  tastes  were,  in  uo^small  degree, 
congenial  with  his  own.  He  had  now  acquired  such  firmness  of  moral 
principles,  and  was  so  discreet  in  his  general  deportment,  that  he  passed 
through  College  without  any  censure,  and  was  much  esteemed  both  by  the 
Government  and  his  fellow-students.  He  took  a  high  rank  in  his  class  as 
a  scholar,  as  was  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  he  had  a  forensic  at  his  gradua- 
tion. 

Upon  leaving  College  in  1792,  he  engaged  in  a  school  in  Billerica, 
which  he  taught  with  full  satisfaction  to  his  employers.  Whatever  of 
leisure  he   could  command,  he   devoted  to  the   study  of  Theology,  audi 

Vol.  VIII.  21 


322  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

received  important  aid  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gumming,  the  Congregational 
minister  of  that  phice.  After  remaining  somewhat  less  tlian  a  year  at 
Billerica,  he  gave  up  his  school,  and  returned  to  Cambridge,  where  he 
continued  his  theological  studies  for  a  sliort  time,  it  is  believed,  under  the 
direction  of  Dr.  Tappan,  who  had  the  year  before  been  inducted  to  the 
Professorship  of  Theology.  After  leaving  Cambridge,  he  spent  some  time 
in  his  native  place  ;  and,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  he  commenced  preach- 
ing in  the  spring  or  summer  of  1795.  After  preaching  in  various  places 
until  the  autumn  of  the  year  1797,  he  came  to  Coventry  to  visit  me,  and 
shortly  after  was  employed  to  preach  in  the  neighbouring  parish  of  Gilead. 
Mr.  Appleton,  of  Hampton,  N.  H.,  (afterwards  the  llev.  Dr.  Appleton, 
President  of  Bowdoin  College,)  called  on  me  about  this  time,  with  a  view 
to  engage  him  to  supply  the  pulpit  at  Hampton  Falls,  with  reference  to  a 
settlement ;  and  when  the  proposal  was  communicated  to  my  brother,  he 
signified  his  willingness  to  accept  it.  Accordingly,  when  his  engagement 
at  Gilead  had  expired,  which  I  think  was  in  January,  1798,  he  went  to 
Hampton  Falls  and  commenced  preaching  there  as  a  candidate.  In  due 
time  the  Church  and  Society  presented  him  a  call,  which  lie  accepted,  and, 
on  the  15th  of  August  following,  he  was  constituted  their  Pastor  by  the 
usual  solemnities. 

My  brother  lived  in  much  harmony  with  his  people,  though  they  were 
never  able  to  give  him  an  adequate  support.  In  1809  he  was  invited  to 
take  charge  of  Dummer  Academy,  Newbury  ;  and,  as  this  was  a  promis- 
ing field  of  usefulness,  and  withal  one  which  he  was  well  qualified  to 
occupy,  and  as  he  would  here  be  relieved  from  the  embarrassment  to  which 
he  was  subjected  from  an  incompetent  support,  many  of  his  friends  were 
inclined  to  think  that  it  was  his  duty  to  avail  himself  of  this  opportunity 
of  improving  his  condition.  He,  however,  thought  proper  to  refer  the 
matter  to  the  judgment  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Council;  and  they,  in  view  of 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  deemed  it  expedient  that  his  relation  to 
■his  people  should  not  then  be  dissolved.  They  thought  it  more  important 
that  he  should  remain,  from  the  fact  that  Mr.  Appleton,  his  nearest  minis- 
terial neighbour,  .with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  the  greatest  intimacy, 
had,  a  short  time  before,  left  Hampton  to  become  President  of  Bowdoin 
■College.  Several  members  of  the  Council  came  prepared  to  assure  the 
people  of  Hnnipton  Falls  that  they  should  have  assistance  from  some  of 
the  liberal  ami  wealthy  members  of  their  parishes,  if  it  should  be  neces- 
■sary  in  order  to  enablo  tliem  to  retain  their  Pastor. 

For  several  years,  while  his  family  was  not  large,  he  received  as  boarders 
and  pupils  young  men  who  had  been  suspended  from  College.  By  this 
means  he  was  assisted  in  the  support  of  his  family,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
was  enabled  to  preserve  and  improve  his  knowledge  of  the  classics.  His 
■kindly  and  agreeable  manner  towards  his  pupils,  as  well  as  the  great  faith- 
ifuluess  with  which  he  directed  their  studies,  not  only  won  their  affection 
■and  confidence,  but  gave  entire  satisfaction  to  their  parents  and  to  the 
College  Faculty.  Their  gratitude  and  that  of  their  friends  was  shown  by 
many  cordial  expressions  of  good  will. 

He  was,  for  many  years,  an  active  and  useful  member  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees  of  the  Exeter  Phillips  Academy.     He  was  regular  in  attending 


JACOB    ABBOT.  323 

their  meetings  and  the  examinations  of  the  students,  and  did  his  utmost, 
in  every  way,  to  promote  the  prosperity  of  the  Institution.  He  was  also, 
for  several  years,  a  useful  Trustee  of  the  Female  Academy  at  Derry. 

Though  my  brother  remained  with  his  people  for  about  seventeen  years 
after  he  received  the  invitation  from  Dumnier  Academy,  he  was  always 
more  or  less  embarrassed  for  want  of  adequate  means  of  support ;  and,  at 
length,  a  mutually  satisfactory  arrangement  was  made  for  the  dissolution 
of  his  pastoral  relation.  Accordingly,  he  resigned  his  charge  on  the  1st 
of  April,  1826  ;  and  the  friendship  which  had  always  existed  between  him 
and  his  people  remained  unimpaired.  He  often  visited  them,  and  preached 
for  them,  and  was  always  ready  to  aid  them  by  his  friendly  advice. 

About  the  time  that  he  resigned  his  pastoral  charge,  he  purchased  a  farm 
of  two  hundred  acres  in  Windham,  N.  H.,  to  which  place  he  moved  his 
large  family.  He  preached  occasionally  in  neighbouring  parishes.  During 
the  winter  of  1827-28  he  supplied  Dr.  Abbot's  pulpit  in  Beverly,  while 
the  latter  was  on  a  visit  to  the  South,  and  to  the  Island  of  Cuba,  for  the 
benefit  of  his  health.  He  preached  at  Windham,  after  a  Unitarian  Society 
was  formed  there,  and  rendered  himself  useful  by  superintending  the 
scliools  in  that  town. 

The  circumstances  of  his  death  were  deeply  afflictive.  On  Sunday,  the 
second  of  November,  1834,  as  he  was  crossing  a  pond  on  his  return  from 
meeting,  the  boat  was  upset,  and  he  and  a  neighbour  who  was  with  him, 
were  drowned.  The  event  carried  deep  sorrow  into  every  community  in 
which  he  had  been  known. 

Mr.  Abbot  was  married,  at  an  early  period  of  his  ministry,  to  Catha- 
rine, daughter  of  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Thayer,  of  Hampton,  N.  H.  They 
had  eleven  children,  ten  of  whom  lived  to  adult  age.  Mrs.  Abbot  died  on 
the  27th  of  January,  1843.  Very  truly  yours, 

ABIEL  ABBOT. 

FROM  THE  REV.  EPHRAIM  ABBOT. 

Westford,  Mass.,  May  23,  18G4. 

Rev.  and  Dear  Sir :  I  have  received  your  letter,  and  embrace  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  comply  with  the  request  contained  in  it. 

My  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  Jacob  Abbot,  of  Hampton  Falls,  commenced 
in  1808,  when  I  was  introduced  to  liim  and  his  brother,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Abiel 
Abbot,  by  the  Rev.  Jonathan  French,  of  Andover,  under  whose  instruction  I 
was  than  pursuing  theological  studies.  lie  was  a  member  of  the  Council  at 
my  Ordination,  in  Greenland,  N.  H.,  in  1813.  Afterwards  our  intercourse, 
including  pulpit  exchanges,  was  frequent.  We  often  met  in  the  Piscataqua 
Ministerial  Association,  and  in  the  Piscataqua  IMissionary  Society,  where  he 
was  always  a  wulcome  and  respected  member.  He  took  a  deep  interest  in 
education,  and  through  his  influence  the  schools  in  Hampton  Falls  were  greatly 
in  advance  of  those  in  the  neighbouring  towns,  and  the  persons  educated  in 
them  were  distinguished  for  intelligence  and  respectability.  He  was  a  man 
of  much  reading  and  was  well  acquainted  with  Ecclesiastical  History.  His 
sermons  were  always  well  studied,  illustrative  of  his  text,  and  presenting  the 
truth  contained  in  it  in  a  clear  and  strong  light.  They  were  generally  more 
practical  than  doctrinal.  The  object  he  constantly  kept  in  view  in  his  preach- 
ing was  to  enlighten  the  understanding  and  elevate  the  moral  and  religious 
character  of  his  hearers.     His  success  in  this  respect  was  very  manifest  in  the 


324  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

elevated  tone  of  intelligence  and  Christian  feeling  and  deportment  that  pre- 
vailed among  his  people.  He  wrote  in  a  plain  neat  st3le,  and  was  very- 
methodical  in  the  arrangement  of  his  subject.  He  had  a  logical  piA}>(l,  and 
could  conduct  an  argument  with  great  skill;  but,  becau^Wlfrl^ilflved  peace,  he 
avoided  "perverse  disputings."  lie  had  not  the  graceful  elocution  of  liis 
cousin,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Abiel  Abbot,  of  Beverly;  but  his  utterance  was  distinct, 
his  pronunciation  good,  his  voice  plea.sant,  and  his  manner  altogalier  impres- 
sive. He  was  exceedingly  unostentatious  and  simple  in  his  manners,  and  so 
easy  of  access  tliat  a  child  would  not  be  embariassed  in  his  presence. 

Mr.  Abbot's  parish  was  very  small.  There  Avere  only  about  five  hundred 
people  in  the  town,  and  a  large  part  of  them  were  of  the  Freewill  Baptist 
denomination.  His  salary  was  three  hundred  dollars;  a  parsonage  on  which 
he  kept  a  horse  and  three  cows;  and  ten  cords  of  pine  wood  and  six  cords  of 
hard  wood,  which,  though  small  for  the  support  of  his  family,  was  a  heavy, 
burden  for  his  little  Societ}'^.  He  might  have  occupied  a  situation  that  would 
have  given  him  a  much  better  salary  than  he  received,  but  his  parish  were 
unwilling  to  release  him,  and  he  feared  that^ifhe  left  it,  it  would  be  long  before 
a  suitable  minister  could  be  settled,  if  the/parish  were  not  entirely  broken  up. 
He  therefore  remained  there  twenty-six  years. 

I  was  a  member  of  the  Council  by  wliich  he  was  finally  dismissed,  and  saw 
abundant  evidence  of  the  affection  of  h^g  parishioners,  and  of  their  reluctance 
to  part  with  him.  But  we  thought  the  circumstances  of  the  parish  made  the 
separation  necessarj'^,  and  the  connection  was  therefore  dissolved.  We  recom- 
mended him  as  an  able  and  faithful  minister  of  Christ. 

Mr.  Abbot  was  blessed  with  an  excellent  wife,  and,  with  their  united  coun- 
sel, educated  their  ten  children  so  well  that  they  all  became  worth}^  and  very 
respectable  members  of  society.  The)^  were  early  taught  that  all  honest  and 
useful  labour  is  honourable,  and  they  all,  when  not  attending  to  their  literarj' 
studies,  diligently  and  cheerfully  engaged  in  any  work  which  could  promote 
the  interests  of  the  family.  Though  Mr.  Abbot's  salary  in  money  was  only 
three  hundred  dollars,  he  purchased,  soon  after  his  dismission,  a  farm  in 
Windham,  N.  H.,  for  which  he  paid  immediatejy  the  full  price  of  four  thousand 
dollars.  Yet  they  alwa3's  had  enough  to  live  upon,  and  such  was  their 
hospitality  that  their  parishioners  thought  that  the  company  they  entertained 
was  equal  to  the  constant  board  of  one  and  a  half  persons,  besides  which,  they 
gave  a  very  considerable  amount  in  charit}'. 

After  Mr.  Abbot  removed  to  Windham,  he  performed  considerable  labour  on 
his  farm;  but,  during  his  ministry  in  Hampton  Falls,  he  performed  very  little 
manual  labour  except  in  hay  time.  He  religiously  devoted  the  greater  part  of 
his  time  to  reading,  writing  and  all  ministerial  duties.  At  the  time  of  my 
Ordination  he  said  to  me,  as  a  truth  he  had  learned  from  his  own  expeiience, 
— «'  You  have  a  small  parish,  and  you  will  be  obliged  to  do  much  visiting 
among  your  people." 

Regretting  that  I  am  not  able  to  give  you  a  more  extended  account  of  my 
excellent  friend, 

I  am,  with  high  esteem  and  respect, 

Your  brother  in  Christ, 

EPHRAIM  ABBOT. 

I  venture  to  supplement  these  letters  by  a  few  of  my  own  personal 
recollections  concerning  the  subject  of  them  ;  for  though  they  reach  back 
to  an  early  period  of  my  life,  time  has  done  little  to  impair  their  vividness. 

I  saw  Mr.  Abbot  first  in  the  spring  of  1811,  when  he  came  to  Coventry 
to  visit  hia  brother,  under  whom  I  was  then  pursuing  my  studies  prepara- 


JACOB    ABBOT.  325 

tory  to  entering  College.  He  remained  there  several  days,  during  wliicli  I 
had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  him  almost  constantly,  and,  as  the  Sabbath 
was  included,  I  heard  him  preach  both  parts  of  the  day.  Within  the  next 
half  dozen  years  I  visited  him  two  or  three  times  at  his  own  house  at 
Hampton  Falls,  spending  a  day  or  two  at  each  visit.  These  were  the  only 
opportunities  of  personal  intercourse  with  him  that  I  enjoyed,  though  I 
have  been  well  acquainted  with  several  of  his  intimate  friends,  who  have 
communicated  to  me  at  large  their  impressions  concerning  him. 

Mr.  Abbot  was  of  about  the  medium  height,  symmetrically  formed,  with 
a  face  inilicative  at  once  of  good-sense  and  good-nature.  His  manners, 
though  without  much  artificial  polish,  were  simple  and  natural,  and  well 
fitted  to  awaken  confidence  and  good-will.  As  soon  as  you  began  to  con- 
verse with  him,  you  found  yourself  in  contact  with  a  well-balanced  and 
well-furnished  mind,  that  brought  forth  nothing  that  was  not  well  worth 
listening  to.  He  did  not  sa}'^  brilliant  or  startling  things,  but  his  words 
seemed  well-considered,  and  weighty,  and  always  to  the  point.  There  was 
not  the  semblance  of  forwardness  about  him, —  nothing  that  was  allied  to 
any  thing  like  personal  display  ;  though  his  modesty  imposed  no  restraint 
that  was  embarrassing  to  himself,  or  unpleasant  to  those  with  whom  he 
conversed.  He  was  generally  sedate  and  always  dignified,  while  yet  he 
knew  how  to  unbend  in  familiar  intercourse,  and  attracted  attention  as 
well  ))y  his  good-humour  as  his  sound  common  sense. 

In  his  family  he  was  a  model  of  conjugal  and  parental  dignity  and  ten- 
derness. I  could  see  that  his*i)resence  made  a  perpetual  sunshine  in  that 
dwelling.  His  children  knew  no  greater  pleasure  than  to  hang  upon  his 
lips,  and  those  who  survive  know  no  greater  now  than  to  speak  his  praise 
and  emlialm  his  memory.  His  hospitality  scarcely  knew  a  limit,  and  those 
who  had  enjoyed  it  once  were  e:iger  fur  the  repetition  of  the  privilege. 

Mr.  Abbot  had  a  more  than  commonly  active  mind,  and,  so  far  as  his 
circumstnnces  would  permit,  he  was  a  diligent  student.  In  his  theological 
views  he  is  understood  to  have  been  an  Arian,  probably  to  the  close  of  his 
life.  His  discourses  contained  little  fron>  wliich  Christians  of  any  denomin- 
ation would  dissent,  tiiough  they  did  not  contain  every  thing  that  all  would 
desire.  Judging  from  a  single  sermon  of  his  in  print,  and  two  or  three  in 
manuscript,  which  I  have  had  the  opportunity  of  reading,  as  well  as  from 
my  general  rec(dlections  of  the  two  that  I  heard  him  preach  at  Coventry, 
and  I  may  add  from  the  testimony  of  some  who  were  familiar  with  his 
preaching,  I  should  suppose  that  his  sermons  were  written  with  great 
logical  correctness,  luminous  simplicit}^  and  classical  purity.  I  have 
heard,  upon  gdod  authority,  that  while  Chief  Justice  Parsons  lived  at 
Newburyjiort,  ISIr.  Abbot  was  his  favourite  among  all  the  preachers  with 
whom  his  minister  was  accustomed  to  exchange  ;  and  that  too,  when  there 
were  among  them  one  or  two  of  the  most  popular  preachers  in  Massachu- 
setts. But  it  was  the  matter  rather  than  the  manner  that  attracted  him. 
His  voice  was  of  moderate  compass,  and,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  not  par- 
ticularly melodious ;  and  I  think  he  had  little  or  no  gesture ;  but  his 
manner  was  simple,  grave,  and  not  otherwise  than  agreeable. 

Mr.  Abbot  commanded,  in  a  high  degree,  the  respect  not  only  of  his  own 
congregation,  but  of  the  people  generally  throughout  the  region    in  which 


326  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

he  lived.  His  brethren  in  the  ministry  were  strongly  attached  to  him, 
and  none  more  than  the  venerable  Dr.  Buckminster  of  Portsmouth,  vfho 
continued  to  exchange  with  him  till  the  close  of  life. 


JOHN  SHERMAN.* 

1796—1828. 

John  Sherman,  the  eldest  son  of  John  and  Rebecca  (Austin)  Sherman, 
was  born  in  New  Haven,  Conn.,  on  the  30th  of  June,  1772.  His  fatiier 
was  the  eldest  son  of  Roger  Sherman,  one  of  the  Signers  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  ;  and  his  mother  was  a  daughter  of  David  Austin,  Collec- 
tor of  Customs  of  tlie  United  States  for  the  port  of  New  Haven,  and  sister 
of  the  Rev,  David  Austin,  wlio  was  for  some  time  Pastor  of  the  Presbyte- 
rian Church  in  Elizabethtown,  N.  J.  Of  the  history  of  his  very  early 
years  nothing  can  now  be  ascertained.  He  entered  Yale  College  when  he 
was  not  far  from  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  graduated  in  the  class  of  1792. 
He  studied  Theology  partly  under  President  Dwight,  who,  it  is  said,  cau- 
tioned him  in  regard  to  his  proneness  to  metaphysical  speculation  ;  though 
the  greater  part  of  his  theological  training  was  under  his  uncle,  then  min- 
ister of  Elizabethtown.  He  was  licensed  to  preach,  by  the  New  Haven 
Association,  sometime  in  1796,  and,  having  accepted  a  unanimous  call  from 
the  First  Church  and  Society  in  Mansfield,  Coim.,  was  ordained  and 
installed  as  their  Pastor  on  the  15th  of  November,  1797. 

Mr.  Sherman's  early  services  met  with  much  favour  from  his  congregation. 
Divisions  which  had  existed  under  a  previous  ministry  were  healed,  and, 
about  five  months  after  his  settlement  a  powerful  revival  of  religion  took 
place  in  connection  with  his  labours,  which  brought  nearly  one  hundred 
persons  into  the  church. 

Not  very  long  after  his  settlement  at  Mansfield  he  began  to  doubt  in 
respect  to  some  of  the  doctrines  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  believe 
and  preach,  particularly  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  of  the  Divine  and 
human  natures  in  the  person  of  Christ  ;  and  the  result  of  his  inquiries  was 
that  he  became  fully  convinced,  and  openly  avowed  his  conviction,  that 
neither  of  these  doctrines  is  contained  in  the  Bible.  Much  the  larger  part 
of  his  congregation  were  desirous  of  retaining  him  as  their  Pastor,  though 
there  were  a  small  number  who  demurred,  and  the  Association  of  Windham 
County,  of  which  he  was  a  member,  immediately  took  the  initiatory  steps 
for  bringing  the  ease  to  trial.  The  letter  from  the  Rev.  Abiel  Abbot, 
appended  to  this  narrative,  supersedes  the  necessity  of  any  further  details 
here  of  the  controversy  which  issued  in  his  removal  from  Mansfield.  In  1805, 
he  published,  in  an  octavo  volume  of  two  hundred  pages,  a  work  bearing 
the  following  title  : —  "  One  God  in  one  Person  only  :  and  Jesus  Christ  a 
Being  distinct  from  God,  dependent  upon   Him  for  his  Existence,  and  his 

•View  of  Ecclesiastical  Proceedings  in  the  County  of  Windham,  Conn.,  &c. —  Trenton 
Falls  Illustrated,  2d  ed. —  Belsham's  Life  of  Theophilus  Lindsey. —  MSS.  from  Rev.  Abiel 
Abbot,  D.  D.,  <fc  Hon.  R.  S.  Baldwin. 


JOHN    SHERMAN.  327  ■ 

Various  Powers  ;  Maintained  and  Defended."  This  was  the  first  formal  and 
elaborate  defence  of  Unitarianism  that  ever  appeared  in  New  England.  It 
was  noticed  in  a  respectful,  though  somewhat  non-committal,  manner  in  the 
Monthly  Anthology,  and  it  was  replied  to  by  the  Rev.  Daniel  Dow,  of 
Thompson,  Conn.,  in  a  pamphlet  entitled  "Familiar  Letters  to  the  Rev. 
John  Slierman,  once  Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Mansfield,  in  particular  refer- 
ence to  his  late  Antitrinitarian  Treatise."  An  Answer  to  this  appeared 
under  the  title  of  "A  Wreath  for  the  Rev.  Daniel  Dow,"  &c.,  which  was 
attributed  to  the  late  Judge  Vanderkemp.  In  1806,  Mr.  Sherman  pub- 
lished a  "  View  of  Ecclesiastical  Proceedings  in  the  County  of  Windham, 
Conn.,  in  which  the  Original  Association  of  that  County  and  a  few  mem- 
bers of  the  First  Church  in  Mansfield  were  concerned  ;  containing  I'ublic 
Documents,  Letters,  &c.,  relative  to  the  Subject  :  To  which  are  added  the 
Result  of  Council,  and  Addresses  to  the  Society,  the  Cliureh,  the  Youth 
of  Mansfield  and  others."  This  pamphlet  was  answered  the  next  year  in 
one  by  the  Rev.  Moses  C.  Welch,  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  North  Mans- 
field, entitled  "  Misrepresentations  detected  :  or  Strictures  and  Familiar 
Remarks  upon  the  View,  by  John  Sherman,  A.  13.,  of  Ecclesiastical  Pro- 
ceedings in  the  County  of  Windham."  As  these  were  among  the  earliest, 
so  tliey  were  among  the  most  earnest  and  severe,  of  all  the  pamphlets  that 
have  been  written  in  connection  with  tlie  Unitarian  controversy. 

After  Mr.  Sherman's  difficulties  at  Mansfield  had  taken  on  a  very  threat- 
ening aspect,  he  made  a  visit  to  Oldenbarneveld,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Trenton  Falls,  N.  Y.,  where  some  of  his  relatives  were  settled.  Here  lived 
Colonel  Mappa  and  Judge  Vanderkemp,  both  zealous  Unitarians,  and,  on 
hearing  Mr.  Sherman  preach,  they  were  so  much  attracted  by  him  that 
they  resolved  to  make  an  effort  to  secure  his  permanent  services.  Accord- 
ingly, the  church  with  which  these  gentlemen  and  their  families  were  con- 
nected, styling  themselves  "The  Reformed  Christian  Church,"  after  Mr. 
Sherman's  return  to  Mansfield,  invited  him  to  become  their  Pastor  ;  and 
he  was  disposed  to  accept  the  invitation.  He,  accordingly,  took  measures 
for  convening  a  Council  to  effect  his  dismission  ;  and  tliis  Council,  which 
consisted  of  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Henry  Channing  of  New  London,  Aaron 
Bnncroft  of  Worcester,  Salmon  Cone  of  Colchester,  Abiel  Abbot  of  Coven- 
try, and  John  Thornton  Kirkland,  of  Boston,  witli  a  delegate  from  each 
church,  met  on  the  23d  of  October,  1805,  and  came  to  the  following 
Result  : 

"  It  appearing  to  this  Council  that  Mr.  Sherman's  exercise  of  his  minis- 
try in  this  place  is  attended  with  difficulties  and  embarrassments,  seriously 
affecting  his  personal  comfort  and  usefulness,  and  the  union  and  prosperity 
of  this  Church  and  Society, — 

"  Voted,  First,  That  it  is  expedient  and  proper  that  the  ministerial  connec- 
tion of  the  Rev.  John  Sherman  with  the  First  Church  and  Society  in  this* 
place  should  be  dissolved,  and  it  is  hereby  dissolved. 

"  Voted,  Secondly,  That  this  Council  find  Mr.  Sherman  to  have  been, 
till  this  time,  in  regular  standing  as  minister  of  this  church.  The};  give 
their  testimony  to  his  fair  moral  character,  express  their  favourable  senti- 
ments of  his  ministerial  gifts,  and  do  recommend  him  to  the  kind  reception 
of  such  churches  as  may  see  fit  to  employ   him;  subjoining  that,  by  thia 


328  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

reconiniciKlation,  the  Council  do  not  consider  themselves  as  giving  their 
approbation  of  Mr.  Sherman's  peculiar  phraseology,  or  circumstantial 
difference  of  sentiment,  on  (he  subject  of  the  Trinity." 

A  few  weeks  after  his  dismission,  he  received  a  communication  signed  by 
five  prominent  individuals  in  behalf  of  the  Society,  signifying  their  strong 
attachn)ent  to  him,  their  high  appreciation  of  his  services  as  a  minister, 
their  best  wishes  for  his  future  usefulness,  and  their  earnest  desire  that  he 
would  publish  a  statement  of  all  the  important  facts  having  a  bearing  upon 
his  dismission. 

About  two  months  after  his  dismission,  and  after  he  had  reached  Olden- 
barneveld,  a  messenger  from  Mansfield  came  to  him,  bringing  him  a  call 
from  both  the  Church  and  Society  which  he  had  left,  to  return  to  them  and 
resume  the  pastoral  relation.  lie  declined  the  invitation,  on  tlie  ground 
that  lie  thought  there  were  opportunities  of  more  extensive  usefulness  in 
the  field  to  which  he  had  then  just  been  introduced  ;  and,  in  the  same  com- 
munication, he  went  into  a  somewhat  elaborate  view  of  the  points  of 
difference  between  him  and  his  Orthodox  brethren.  The  paper  is  written 
with  no  small  ability  and  in  a  tone  strongly  controversial. 

Mr.  Sliermau  was  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  at  Oldenbarneveld, 
(Trenton  Village.)  on  the  9th  of  March,  1806.  He  continued  to  preach, 
however,  but  a  short  time  ;  and,  in  order  to  provide  more  comforta- 
bly for  his  increasing  family,  he  subsequently  established  an  Academy 
in  the  neighbourhood,  which  soon  acquired  great  popularity,  and  occupied 
nearly  his  whole  attention  for  many  years.  In  1822  he  caused  a  house  to 
be  built  at  the  Falls  for  the  accommodation  of  visitors,  which  he  called 
the  "  Rural  Resort."  The  next  year  he  removed  thither  w.ilh  his  family, 
and  this  was  his  last  earthly  home.  He  died  on  the  2d  of  August,  1828, 
in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried,  by  his  special  request, 
on  the  grounds  he  so  much  loved,  and  in  view  of  the  large  hotel  he  had 
been  instrumental  in  establishing. 

Mr.  Sherman  was  married  on  the  13th  of  February,  1798,  to  Abigail, 
daughter  of  Jacob  Perkins,  of  Norwich,  Conn.  They  had  nine  children, — 
four  sons  and  five  daughters.  Mrs.  Sherman  died  December  8,  1860,  in 
the  eighty-seventh  year  of  her  age,  at  the  house  of  her  son-in-law,  Mr. 
Moore,  who  keeps  the  hotel  at  Trenton  Falls,  and  her  remains  rest  beside 
those  of  her  husband. 

Besides  the  two  publications  of  Mr.  Sherman  already  referred  to,  he 
brought  out,  in  1826,  a  work  entitled  "  Philosophy  of  Language  Illus- 
trated :  An  entirely  new  System  of  Grammar,  &c.  ;  "  and,  in  1827,  A 
Description  of  Trenton  Falls,  an  illustrated  edition  of  which  was  published 
in  1851,  with  additions,  by  N.  P.  Willis. 

I  heard  Mr.  Sherman  preach  two  sermons  in  my  early  youth,  and  still 
retain  a  distinct  impression  of  his  appearance  and  manner,  and  of  the 
favourable  judgment  that  was  universally  passed  upon  his  services  by  the 
congregation  to  whom  he  preached.  I  remember  that  he  had  great  freedom 
and  ease  of  manner,  and  spoke  with  energy  and  earnestness,  and  every 
body  said  that  his  sermons  were  admirable.  I  believe  his  Orthodoxy  had 
not  tlien  been  called  in  question, —  certainly  not  so  far  as  to  prevent  the 
ministers  in  his  neighbourhood  from  exchanging  with  him.     I  well  remem- 


JOHN    SHERMAN.  329 

bei-  tliiit   tlie  controversy  vvliicli   resulted   in  liis  dismission  from  Mansfield 
excited    f^reat    interest    and    considerable    agitation    tliroughout    the  whole 


FROM  THE  REV.  ABIEL  ABBOT,  D.  D. 

Peterboro',  N.  n.,  16  September,  1851. 

My  dear  Sir  :  My  recollections  of  John  Sherman  reach  back  to  the  summer 
of  1797.  Daring  the  time  that  he  was  preaching  at  Mansfield,  as  a  candidate, 
he  was  detained  over  one  Sabbath  at  Coventry  by  a  heavy  rain,  and  was  one  of 
my  hearers  both  parts  of  the  day.  After  the  second  service  he  accompanied  me 
home  and  passed  the  night.  I  found  him  a  lively  and  agreeable  companion,  but 
quickly  perceived  that  he  was  rather  high-toned  and  earnest  in  liis  Orthodoxy. 
I  attended  his  Ordination,  shortly  after  this,  as  a  member  of  the  Council;  but, 
from  that  time,  1  had  little  or  no  intoicourse  with  him  for  several  years.  I 
subsequently  learned  that  he  had  leceived,  particularly  from  one  minister  in 
the  neighbourhood,  impressions  strongly  unfavorable  in  respect  to  my  Ortho- 
doxy ;  and  this  was  doubtless  the  reason  why  he  did  not  care  to  have  our 
relations  become  more  intimate. 

As  an  evidence  that  he  was  not  chargeable  with  any  lukewarmness  as  to 
the  matter  of  Orthodoxy,  he  drew  up  a  Confession  of  Faith,  of  the  strictest 
sort,  and  lequired  that  the  church  should  sign  it,  previous  to  l)is  Ordination. 
His  reading,  up  to  this  time,  as  he  informed  me,  had  been  altogether  on  the 
orthodox  side,  consisting  of  such  authors  as  Horsley,  Jameison,  &c.  Some- 
time after  his  settlement,  he  procured  McKnight's  Commentary  on  the  Epis- 
tles, and  was  much  struck  not  only  with  the  justness  of  many  of  his  exposi- 
tions, but  with  the  general  tone  of  candour  by  which  the  work  seemed  to  be 
pervaded.  About  this  time  also  he  fell  in  with  Dr.  Watts' work  on  "The 
Glory  of  Christ,"  which  contains  what  is  commonl}'-  called  "  the  Indwelling 
scheme;"  and,  for  a  while,  he  accepted  that,  as  what  .seemed  to  him  a  more 
rational  view  of  that  part  of  Scripture  doctrine  than  any  he  had  met  with  ; 
but  this  did  not  render  him  obnoxious  to  his  brethren,  as  several  members  of 
the  Association,  for  a  time  at  least,  fully  agreed  with  him.  lie  now  met 'with 
Piiestley's  work  in  opposition  to  lloisley  ;  and,  on  reading  it  carefully,  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  Priestley  had  got  the  better  of  the  argument.  He  came 
to  see  me  about  this  time,  probal)h'  fi>r  the  .same  reason  that  he  had  staj^ed 
awaj''  before, — that  he  considered  me  less  orthodox  than  any  other  minister  in 
his  neighborhood.  He  told  me  frankly  of  his  difficulties  and  sci'uples,  and 
mentioned  that  he  had  been  examining  minutely  all  the  texts  bearing  on  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  writing  out  explanations  of  them,  that  he  might 
be  ready  to  answer  Dr.  D wight,  who  he  expected  would  ere  long  call  him  to 
an  account. 

After  this  change  in  his  opinions  had  occurred,  he  M'as  of  course  embar- 
rassed bj^  the  orthodox  creed  which  lie  had  imposed  upon  the  church  previous 
to  his  Ordination  ;  but  this  difficulty  was  removed  by  a  vote  of  the  church 
that  the  acceptance  of  it  should  not  be  regarded  as  essential  to  Communion. 
The  church,  with  the.  exception  of  one  member,  made  no  complaint  in  respect 
to  him  for  some  time. 

The  Association  with  Avhich  Mr.  Sherman  was  connected,  having  become 
apprised  of  his  departure  from  the  accredited  faith,  appointed  a  Committee  to 
converse  with  him  in  order  to  ascertain  the  extent  of  the  change  which  his 
views  had  undergone.  The  conference  was  held,  but  resulted  in  nothing  satis- 
factory. A  second  Committee  was  appointed,  and  the  result  of  the  interview 
was  as  unsatisfactory  as  before.  The  Association  now  took  the  matter  in 
hand  in  serious  earnest,  and  advised  to  the  calling  of  the  Consociation  of 


330  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

"Windham  Count}'',  and  appointed  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Brockway  and  Ely,  the 
two  senior  members  of  the  Body,  to  take  the  requisite  steps  for  convening  it; 
and  if  the  people  of  Mansfield  would  not  consent  to  their  meeting  there,  (it 
being  understood  that  they  should  themselves  pay  the  expense  of  their  sojourn 
among  them,)  arrangements  should  be  made  for  their  meeting  at  Windliam. 
The  Committee  wrote  to  the  Cliurch  at  Mansfield,  according  to  instructions, 
and  received  for  answer  that  no  Consociation  existed  in  Windham  County, 
and,  even  if  there  was  one,  they  had  no  business  for  any  such  Body.  The 
Association  then  met,  and,  after  having  had  anotlier  unsatisfactory  conversa- 
tion with  Mr.  Sherman,  voted  that  he  was  no  longer  a  member  of  their  Body, 
and  appointed  a  committee  to  apprise  the  church  of  their  final  pioceedings  in 
respect  to  him;  at  the  same  time  requesting  Mr.  Sheiinan  to  warn  a  chuich- 
meeting  for  the  purpose  of  their  leceiving  the  proposed  communication.  vSlier- 
man  said  he  would  give  notice  as  far  as  he  could  conveniently,  without  calling 
a  regular  meeting — that  he  declined  to  do — though,  after  a  conversation  which 
I  had  with  him  on  the  subject,  he  resolved  on  a  different  course,  and  actually 
complied  with  the  letter  of  their  request.  The  meeting  was  well  attended, 
and  the  letter  was  accordingly  read  to  them,  stating  that,  if  they  persevered 
in  their  adherence  to  Mr.  Sherman,  the  Association  could  no  longer  recognize 
them  as  an  Evangelical  cliurch.  Seven  or  eight  of  the  members  of  the  cluuch, 
immediately  after  this,  consulted  Mr.  AVelcli,  the  minister  of  North  Mansfield, 
as  to  the  proper  course  to  be  pursued;  and  he  suggested  that  tliej''  had  better 
send  a  memorial  to  the  Association,  asking  their  advice;  and,  upon  their  con- 
senting to  his  proposal,  he  wrote  one.  The  Association  advised  to  the  call- 
ing of  a  Council  to  be  composed  of  members  of  their  own  Body,  after  they  had 
taken  the  regular  steps  with  their  Pastor;  but,  as  Mr.  Sherman,  about  this 
time,  visited  Trenton,  N.  Y.,  he  received  an  invitation  to  settle  there  for  a 
limited  time,  and  determined  to  accept  it.  In  consequence  of  this,  he  asked 
the  Society  to  grant  him  a  dismission,  waiving  the  provision  of  the  contract 
that  he  should  give  them  a  three  months'  notice.  The  church  consented  to 
his  proposal,  and  a  Mutual  Council  was  called,  consisting  of  five  ministers  and 
as  many  delegates.  The  Council  dismissed  him  with  the  usual  recommenda- 
tion, though  taking  care  to  avoid  any  thing  that  looked  like  a  direct  endorse- 
ment of  his  religious  opinions. 

I  have  reason  to  believe  that  Mr.  Sherman,  during  the  time  of  his  difficul- 
ties at  Mansfield,  was  an  Arian;  but,  after  he  went  to  Trenton,  I  have  no 
doubt  that  he  became  a  Humanitarian,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  continued  such 
till  the  close  of  life.  His  book,  entitled  "  One  God  in  one  Person  only,"  does 
not  commit  him  to  any  particular  view  of  the  subject  beyond  the  Antitrini- 
tarian  view. 

Mr.  Sherman  was  of  about  the  ordinary  stature,  of  a  compact  and  well 
proportioned  frame,  and  an  expressive  countenance.  His  talents  were  deci- 
dedly of  a  superior  order — he  was  quick  in  his  perceptions,  ready  in  his  utter- 
ance, and  had  the  power  not  only  of  commanding  his  thouglits  and  feelings  oa 
any  sudden  emergency,  but  of  rising  under  the  pressure  of  an  occasion.  He 
sometimes  preached  extempore,  and  with  great  point  and  pertinence. 

Yours  faithfully, 

ABIEL  ABBOT. 


JOHN    PIERCE.  331 


JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D.^ 

179G  — 1849. 

John  Pierce,  a  son  of  Julm  and  Sarah  (Blake)  Pierce,  was  Lorn  iu 
Dorchester,  Mass.,  July  14,  1773,  being  the  eldest  of  ten  children.  His 
father,  who  was  a  shoemaker,  and  an  intelligent,  excellent  man,  died  ia 
December,  1833,  at  the  age  of  ninety-one.  From  his  earliest  years  he^ 
had  a  strong  desire  to  go  to  College  and  to  become  a  minister,  owing,  aa 
he  used  to  say,  to  his  having  heard  much  said,  in  his  father's  family,  of  an 
uncle  who  died  shortly  after  he  began  to  preach.  The  same  woman,  who 
taught  his  mother  to  read,  taught  him  also;  and  he  remained  under  her 
instruction  till  he  began  to  study  Latin  in  preparatiun  for  College.. 

He  entered  Harvard  College  in  1789,  and  graduated  in  1793,  having 
sustained,  during  his  whole  course,  an  excellent  reputation  as  a  scholar. 
He  received,  at  his  graduation,  one  of  the  highest  honours  in  his  class, — 
the  second  English  Oration, —  the  first  being  assigned  to  Charles  Jackson, 
afterwards  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts  ;  and,  on  taking 
his  second  degree,  in  1796,  he  pronounced  the  Latin  Valedictory  Oration. 
The  expenses  of  his  wlnde  college  course  amounted  to  a  little  less  than  three 
hundred  dollars,  of  which  he  had  credit,  as  a  beneficiary,  for  upwards  of  one 
hundred. 

After  liuiving  College,  he  was,  for  two  years,  Assistant  Preceptor  of  the 
Academy  in  Leicester,  Mass.  In  the  summer  of  1795  he  commenced  the 
study  of  Theology,  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Thaddeus  Mason 
Harris,  then  recently  settled  in  Dorchester.  He  was  exan)ined  and 
approved  by  the  Boston  Association,  February  22,  1796.  and  preached,  for 
the  first  time,  in  his  native  town,  on  the  Glh  of  March  following.  Towards 
the  close  of  the  year  1796  he  accepted  a  Tutorship  in  Harvard  College, 
which,  however,  he  retained  only  about  four  months.  Having  preached 
in  several  different  places,  he  received  a  call  from  the  First  Church  and 
Society  in  Brookline,  as  the  successor  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Jackson  :  this 
call  he  accepted,  and  was  ordained  and  installed,  March  15.  1797,  —  the 
Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  T.  M.  Harris! 

On  the  31st  of  October,  1798,  Mr.  Pierce  was  married  to  Abigail 
Lovell,  of  Medway,  who  had  been  one  of  his  pupils  at  the  Leicester 
Academy.  She  died  on  the  2d  of  July,  1800,  leaving  an  iufant  son,  who 
died  at  the  age  of  about  two  years.  He  was  married,  a  second  time,  on  the 
6th  of  May,  1802,  to  Lucy,  daughter  of  Benjamin  Tappan,  of  Northamp- 
ton, and  niece  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Tappan,  at  that  time  Professor  of  Divinity 
in  Harvard  College.  They  had  ten  children,  all  but  one  of  whom,  with 
their  mother,  survived  their  father.     Mrs.  Pierce  died  February  12,  1858. 

In  1822,  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by 
Harvard  College. 

Doctor  Pierce  continued  sole  Pastor  of  the  church  over  which  he  was 
placed,  for  half  a  century.     The   15th   of  March,  1847,  being  the   Semi- 
centennial Anniversary  of  his  Ordination,  was  observed  as  a  jubilee  com- 
•  MS.  Autobiography. —  Mr.  Knapp's  Fun.  Serin. 


332  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

memorative  of  that  event ;  an  occasion  which  drew  together  large  numbers, 
of  various  denominations,  and  which  was  signalized  by  many  fine  speeches 
and  an  exuberance  of  kindly  feeling.  In  October  of  the  san)e  year  Mr. 
Frederick  N.  Knapp,  from  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge,  was  ordained 
as  his  colleague.  Dr.  Pierce  was  not,  at  this  time,  sensible  of  any  decay 
of  either  his  physical  or  intellectual  energies ;  but  though  he  at  first 
admitted  the  idea  of  receiving  a  colleague,  not  without  some  reluctance, 
yet,  when  brought  to  believe  that  the  interests  of  his  parish  would  be  pro- 
moted by  such  a  measure,  he  cheerfully  acquiesced  in  it;  and  the  gentle- 
man who  was  chosen  by  the  congregation  was,  in  every  respect,  the  person 
of  his  choice.  From  this  period,  though  relieved  in  a  great  measure  from 
the  care  of  his  own  pulpit,  his  services  were  often  put  in  requisition  by  his 
brethren  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  his  attendance  at  all  public  meetings 
•was  as  regular  and  prompt  as  ever. 

Dr.  Pierce  had  apparently  lost  none  of  his  vigour  until  the  autumn  of 
1848.  Then  he  attended  several  College  Commencements,  in  which  he  was 
exceedingly  interested,  contributing,  in  each  case,  his  full  share  to  the 
interest  of  the  occasion.  Among  them  was  that  of  Turlington  College,  ia 
Vermont ;  and,  during  his  absence  from  home  at  that  time,  he  presumed 
too  far  upon  his  own  ability  for  physical  effort,  and,  in  consequence  of 
excessive  exertion,  returned  with  his  health  somewhat  impaired.  Nothing 
serious,  however,  was  apprehended  in  respect  to  him,  until  about  the  begin- 
ning of  March,  1849,  when  his  physical  energies  seemed,  suddenly,  in  a 
great  degree,  to  fail,  and  he  was  induced  to  employ  a  physician.  From 
that  time  his  decline  was  gradual  but  constant.  During  the  spring  and 
the  greater  part  of  summer,  he  was  able  to  ride  out,  and  to  enjoy  the  com- 
pany of  his  friends,  who  thronged  to  his  dwelling  almost  without  number. 
On  the  18th  of  August,  just  six  days  before  his  death,  an  organ  having 
been  placed  in  the  new  church  at  Brookline,  there  was  quite  a  gathering  to 
witness  the  trial  of  the  instrument.  The  Doctor,  being  too  feeble  either 
to  walk  or  ride,  was  borne  to  the  church  in  a  chair  by  some  of  his  young 
friends,  that  he  might  share  the  pleasure  of  the  occasion.  He  was  able  to 
read  passages  from  the  Scriptures,  and  a  hymn,  and  to  join  with  much 
of  his  accustomed  animation  in  singing  the  latter  to  his  favourite  tune, — 
''  Old  tfundred."  When  the  hymn  was  sung  all  the  assembly  rose,  except 
the  Doctor,  who  remarked,  with  his  usually  cheerful  air,  that  he  no  longer 
belonged  to  the  rising  generation.  After  this,  his  bodily  strength  failed 
more  rapidly,  but  his  mind  retained  its  accustomed  clearness  and  vig- 
our. On  the  evening  immediately  preceding  his  death,  beside  the  Jnembers 
of  his  own  family,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Shailer  of  the  Baptist  Church,  and  two  or 
three  other  friends,  were  in  attendance  at  his  bedside.  As  Mr.  Shailer 
was  about  to  offer  a  prayer,  he  asked  Dr.  Pierce  whether  there  was  any 
particular  petition  that  he  wished  him  to  present  in  his  behalf;  and  his 
reply  was  «'  Entire  submission  to  the  Divine  will."  These  were  his  last 
words.  He  lingered  till  the  next  forenoon,  when,  with  one  brief  struggle, 
be  expired.  Upon  a  post  mortem  examination,  it  was  ascertained  that  his 
disease  was  a  cancerous  affection,  which  had  reached  the  scirrhous  stage. 

The  Funeral  solemnities  took  place  on  the  afternoon  of  August  27th, 
when  a  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Knapp,  the  surviving  Pastor 


JOHN    PIERCE.  333 

of  the  church.  It  was  published,  in  connection  with  a  biographical  notice, 
which  had  previously  appeared  in  the  «' Christian  Inquirer." 

Dr.  Pierce  was  identified  with  many  of  the  philanthropic  and  useful 
enterprises  of  his  day.  He  was,  fur  fifty-two  years,  a  member  of  the 
Massachusetts  Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers,  and  for  ten  years 
its  Scribe.  For  thirty  years  he  belonged  to  the  Massachusetts  Congrega- 
tional Society.  For  thirty-three  years  he  was  Secretary  to  the  Board  of 
Overseers  of  Harvard  College.  He  was,  for  several  years.  President  of 
the  Massachusetts  Bible  Society.  To  the  interests  of  the  Massachusetts 
Historical  Society  he  was  enthusiastically  devoted,  and  bequeathed  to  it  a 
series  of  manuscript  volumes,  reaching  back  almost  to  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  in  which  he  recorded  all  the  principal  facts  that  came  within  his 
observation.  These  volumes  he  calls  "Memoirs;"  and  they  contain  a 
vast  amount  of  information,  especially  concerning  distinguished  individuals, 
that  must  otherwise  have  perished.  Besides  these,  he  gave  to  the  Histor- 
ical Society  what  approaches  more  nearly  to  a  complete  set  of  the 
Massachusetts  Election  Sermons  than  is  elsewhere  to  be  found.  He  was  a 
zealous  friend  of  the  Tenmerance  cause,  and  endeavoured,  by  both  precept 
and  example,  in  public  and  in  private,  to  help  it  forward  to  the  extent  of  his 
ability.  He  delivered  tlie  Artillery  Election  Sermon  in  1813;  the  Dud- 
leian  Lecture  at  Harvard  College  in  1821  ;  the  Sermon  before  the  Massa- 
chusetts Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers  in  1825;  and  the  Annual 
Sermon  before  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  in  1849. 

Dr.  Pierce  enjoyed,  almost  uniformly,  through  life,  remarkable  health, 
as  was  evidenced  by  the  fact  that,  during  his  long  ministry,  he  was  kept 
from  his  pulpit  only  thirteen  Sabbaths.  In  the  spring  of  1805  he  was 
confined  by  a  rheumatic  fever  for  several  weeks  ;  and  it  was  a  somewhat 
singular  coincidence  that  his  friend,  the  celebrated  Joseph  Stevens  Buck- 
minster,  was  ill  at  the  time,  both  returned  to  their  pulpits  the  same  day, 
and  both  preached  from  the  same  text, —  Psalm  CXIX,  71.  He  was  habit- 
ually an  early  riser;  and  he  occupied  himself,  in  the  summer,  for  an  hour 
or  two  before  breakfast,  in  his  garden,  and  in  the  winter,  for  about  the 
same  length  of  time,  in  sawing  and  splitting  wood.  He  was  accustomed  to 
walk  long  distances,  and  not  unfrequently  made  his  exchanges,  six  or  seven 
miles  distant,  on  foot,  going  and  returning,  and  preaching,  all  the  same 
day.  He  was  frugal  in  his  style  of  living,  and  yet  always  liberal  and 
hospitable;  and,  though  his  salary  was  originally  small,  and  was  never 
large,  he  not  only  contrived  to  keep  out  of  debt  but  to  acquire  considera- 
ble property.  It  was  evident,  however,  that  he  did  not  covet  a  large 
estate  ;  and  when,  in  one  instance,  by  an  unfortunate  investment,  he  was 
well-nigh  reduced  to  bankruptcy,  his  wonted  cheerfulness  never  forsook 
him  for  an  hour,  and  even  his  nearest  friends  did  not  suspect,  from  his 
appearance,  that  any  thing  adverse  had  occurred.  He  was  passionately 
fond  of  music  ;  and,  on  various  public  occasions,  such  as  the  Thursday 
Lecture,  the  Commencement  Dinner  at  Cambridge,  and  the  Annual  Con- 
vention of  Ministers,  his  fine,  mellow  voice  was  sure  to  be  heard.  During 
his  last  illness  scarcely  any  thing  gratified  him  more  than  the  weekly 
visits  to  the  parsonage,  on  Saturday  evenings,  of  the  choir  of  his  church, 
whom  he  used  to  call  his  "sweet  Psalmists  of  Israel." 


334  UxNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Dr.  Pierce  was  a  most  devoted  friend  to  Harvard  College.  He  has  been 
lieiud  to  say  that,  when  he  was  a  school-boy,  he  used  sometimes  to  take 
Cambridge  on  his  way  from  Boston  to  Dorcliester,  thus  nearly  tripling  the 
di^^:ulce,  for  the  sake  of  looking  at  the  college  buildings.  And  this  was 
but  the  earnest  of  the  more  intelligent  and  cordial  attachment  which  he 
Was  destined  to  feel  for  the  College  in  after  life.  He  attended  sixty-three 
successive  Commencements,  with  the  exception  of  one,  which  occurred  on 
the  day  of  the  Funeral  of  his  mother  ;  and,  for  fifty-four  successive  years, 
he  "set  the  tune"  of  St.  Martin's  to  the  hymn  sung  at  the  Commence- 
ment Dinner.  He  kept  the  Records  of  the  Board  of  Overseers  with  the 
most  perfect  neatness  and  accuracy,  and  Was  a  model  of  punctuality  and 
fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  all  his  official  duties. 

As  a  matter-of-fact  man,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  Dr.  Pierce  had  any 
equal  among  his  contemporaries.  There  was  scarcely  any  body's  father  or 
grandfather,  of  the  least  notoriety,  of  whose  history  he  could  not  tell  some- 
thing, including  particularly  the  dates  of  his  birth,  graduation,  (if  graduated,) 
and  death.  The  whole  Cambridge  Catalogue  he  seemed  to  carry  in  his 
mind  ;  and  he  could  tell  instantly  who  was  the  Valedictory  Orator,  and 
what  was  his  subject,  in  every  class  that  had  graduated  since  he  began  to 
attend  Coujmenceinent.  It  would  be  difficult  to  make  any  representation 
of  his  knowledge  in  this  department,  which  would  not  be  justified  by  the 
«'  Menjoirs,"  and  other  kindred  manuscript  productions,  which  he  has  left 
behind  him.  When,  on  a  certain  occasion,  it  was  very  desirable  to  ascer- 
tain the  date  of  the  birth  of  an  individual,  and  Dr.  Pierce  was  appealed  to 
as  a  last  resort,  and  appealed  to  in  vain,  Judge  Davis  shrewdly  remarked, — 
•'  There  is  no  use  in  making  any  further  inquiries,  for  if  the  Doctor  does 
not  know  when  the  man  was  born,  he  ivas  not  horn  at  all.'''' 

Of  Dr.  Pierce's  peculiar  theological  views  it  may  be  considered  a  matter 
of  some  delicacy  to  speak,  as  he  always  disavowed  any  other  name  than 
that  of  Christian.  It  cannot,  however,  be  unjust  to  his  memory  to  allow 
him  to  speak  for  himself,  in  the  following  "Confession  of  Faith."  which  is 
found  in  his  Autobiography,  especially  as  he  gave  me  his  written  consent 
that  I  should  make  any  use  of  it,  in  framing  a  notice  of  him,  that  I  might 
think  proper.  It  was  written  in  an  early  period  of  his  ministry,  but  was 
transcribed  by  him,  as  I  understand,  as  late  as  the  year  1830. 

"  I.  I  believe  the  existence,  attributes,  and  perfections  of  a  Supreme, 
Eternal  Being,  who  created,  supports  and  governs  all  things. 

"  II.  I  believe  that,  by  his  providence,  this  infinite  Jehovah  overrules  all 
events  in  such  a  manner  that  nothing  is  permitted  to  overthrow  his  wise  designs. 

"III.  I  believe  that  the  Supreme  Being,  in  compassion  to  the  weak- 
ness, ignorance  and  fallibility  of  men,  was  pleased,  at  sundry  times  and 
in  divers  manners,  to  speak  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  and  hath  in 
these  last  days,  spoken  to  us  by  his  Son. 

"  IV.  I  believe  that  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament 
were  given  by  inspiration  of  God;  that,  of  consequence,  there  is  no  neces- 
sity of  erasing  or  supplying  any  chapters  or  verses  to  render  them  a  com- 
plete and  infallible  rule  of  faith  and  of  practice  ;  that,  although  some  of 
their  doctrines  are  above  human  comprehension,  they  do  not  contradict  it; 
and  though  they  are  incomprehensible,  they  are  not  absurd. 


JOHN    PIERCE.  335 

"V.  I  believe  that,  ever  since  the  apostacy  of  man,  the  Deity  has  been 
graciously  pleased  to  reveal  intentions  of  mercy  to  the  human  race  ;  that 
many  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Jewish  law  were  typical  of  the  Mes- 
siah ;  that  the  prophets  clearly  predicted  the  circumstances  of  his  life  and 
death  ;  that,  when  the  fulness  of  time  was  come,  when  all  previous  pre- 
dictionsof  Him  were  verified,  He  was  born  in  a  miraculous  manner,  and,  by 
an  incomprehensible  union,  became  God  manifest  in  the  flesh. 

"  VI.  I  believe  He  is  the  propitiation  for  our  sins,  and  that  the  neces- 
sity of  such  an  atoning  sacrifice  is  founded  in  the  depravity  of  man. 

"  VII.  I  believe  Clirist  has  made  offers  of  pardon,  grace  and  accep- 
tance to  all  who  apply  to  Him  by  faith  ;  and  that,  although  the  Deity  hath 
chosen  believers  in  Christ  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  that  they 
should  be  holy  and  without  blame  before  Him  in  love,  yet  none  will  be 
finally  rejected  but  through  their  own  fault. 

"  VIII.  I  believe  the  necessity  of  spiritual  influences  in  order  to  holi- 
ness ;  that  all  true  believers  are  born  of  the  Spirit,  and  have  access  by 
one  Spirit  to  the  Father. 

"  IX.  I  believe  what  the  Scriptures  have  revealed  concerning  the  dis- 
tinct offices  and  attributes  of '  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.  I,  however,  find 
in  this,  as  in  other  doctrines  of  the  Bible,  things  hard  to  be  understood. 
Yet  these,  as  there  are  mysteries  equally  great  and  incomprehensible  in 
nature,  appear  to  confirm  the  truth,  instead  of  exposing  the  fallacy,  of  the 
Scriptures. 

"Tlius  I  have  exhibited  as  concisely  as  possible  the  sum  of  what  I  es- 
teem the  most  essential  truths  in  religion.  I  acknowledge  I  have  great  oc- 
casion to  pray  •  Lord  increase  my  faith.'  It  is  my  earnest  wish,  fervent 
prayer,  and  shall  be  my  constant  endeavour,  that,  by  the  blessing  of  God, 
I  may  improve  my  acquaintance  with  the  Sacred  Oracles,  and  become  a 
successful  preacher  and  defender  of  the  religion  of  Jesus." 

I  have  no  evidence  that  Dr.  Pierce  ever  expressed  any  opinions,  either 
in  or  out  of  the  pulpit,  which  he  did  not  consider  as  consistent  witli  the 
above  creed  ;  nevertheless,  as  his  relations  and  intercourse  were  chiefly  with 
the  Unitarian  denomination,  and  as  he  never,  so  far  as  is  known,  by  any 
act,  manifested  a  disposition  to  place  himself  in  other  relations,  it  is  rea. 
sonable  to  infer  that  he  considered  himself  as  falling  on  that  side  of  the 
line  that  divides  the  Congregational  Church  ;  though  he  probably  came 
nearer  to  the  orthodox  faith  than  the  great  mass  of  the  clergymen  with 
whom  he  associated.  He  is  known  to  have  said  more  than  once,  and  even 
on  public  occasions,  that  he  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  called  a  Uni. 
tarian  ;  but  this,  as  he  afterwards  explained  it,  was  a  strong  expression  of 
his  disapprobation  of  a  party  name.  He  was  remarkable  for  his  use  of 
Scripture  language,  and  sometimes  introduced  more  of  it  into  a  sermon 
than  is  consistent  with  modern  taste.  That  he  possessed  a  truly  liberal 
spirit  none  who  knew  him  can  doubt ;  for  he  not  only  manifested  great 
friendship  towards  njen  of  orthodox  views,  but  was  always  glad  to  intro- 
duce them  into  his  pulpit  when  he  had  opportunity. 

My  own  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Pierce  having  been  somewhat  extended 
and  intimate,  I  may  be  allowed  to  refer  to  a  few  incidents  connected  with 
it,  as  illustrating  some  of  the  traits  of  his  character.     I  saw  him,  for  the 


336  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

first  time,  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  B.  B.  Wisner,  at 
the  Old  South  Church,  Boston.  He  was  kind  enough  to  seek  an  introduc- 
tion to  me,  on  account  of  his  great  reverence  for  my  venerable  and  then 
lately  deceased  colleague,  the  llev.  Dr.  Lathrop,  of  West  Springfield.  I 
was  immediately  struck  with  his  commanding  person,  his  face  perfectly  il- 
luminated witli  good-will,  and  his  fine  social  qualities,  which  made  me  nt 
once  lose  the  feeling  that  I  was  a  stranger  to  him.  He  poured  out  upun 
nie,  in  this  first  interview,  a  flood  of  minute  details  about  persons  and 
things,  that  filled  me  with  astonishment;  and  that  astonishment  was,  to  say 
the  least,  never  lessened,  at  any  subsequent  meeting  that  I  ever  had  with 
l;im.  In  1825  I  heard  him  preach  the  Convention  Sermon, —  the  only 
sermon  I  ever  heard  from  him.  It  was  on  the  Trials  of  ministers,  and  kept 
very  remote  from  all  points  of  controversy.  It  was  a  plain,  straightfor- 
ward discourse, —  the  thoughts  logically  arranged  and  perspicuously  ex- 
pressed,—  and  contained  many  sentiments  by  which  any  minister  of  the 
Gospel  might  profit.  His  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was  remarkably  good, 
his  voice  admirable,  his  manner  not  lacking  in  animation,  according  to  the 
standard  of  that  day,  but  the  general  eff"ect  of  his  speaking  considerably 
impaired  by  a  perfect  uniformity  of  cadence.  I  think  it  was  about  that 
time  he  told  me  that  he  had  taken  to  extemporizing  in  some  of  his  more 
private  services,  and  that  he  found  that  when  he  was  in  circumstances  in 
which  he  could  feel  entirely  unembarrassed,  he  could  speak  more  effectively 
in  that  way  than  with  mature  preparation.  I  remember  his  mentioning, 
as  an  instance,  his  preaching  a  short  time  before  to  the  tenants  of  the 
State's  Prison,  at  Charlestown. 

I  had  several  opportunities  of  observing  Dr.  Pierce's  great  generositj, 
and  one  which  I  cannot  forbear  to  record.  After  I  left  Massachusetts  and 
came  to  live  in  Albany,  though  I  occasionally  exchanged  a  letter  with  him, 
I  scarcely  met  him  at  all  for  a  number  of  years.  In  the  summer  of  1810, 
at  the  close  of  an  afternoon  service  on  the  Sabbath,  as  I  came  down  from 
the  pulpit,  I  saw  a  person  waiting  for  me,  whose  face  seemed  to  be  familiar, 
and,  though  I  did  not  at  first  recognize  him,  I  quickly  perceived  that  it  was 
Dr.  Pierce.  My  first  inquiries,  after  shaking  hands  with  him,  were, — 
"  When  did  you  come,  and  where  have  you  been  ?"  "  Why,"  said  he,  '•  I 
came  into  the  city  yesterday,  and  this  morning  I  have  been  talking  to  a  mis- 
sion school  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city;  for,  though  they  did  not  know  me, 
thej'  took  me  up  at  random,  and  set  me  to  talking  ;  and  this  afternoon,  I 
have  been  hearing  you  preach."  "  But  why  did  you  not  come  to  see  me  be- 
fore?" said  I.  "  Well,  I  will  tell  you  frankly,"  answered  he — "  I  did  not 
suppose  that  you  looked  upon  me  as  very  heterodox,  and  I  was  not  sure  but 
that  you  had  confidence  enough  in  my  Orthodoxy  to  ask  me  to  preach  for 
you  —  I  knew,  at  any  rate,  that  your  friendship  would  predispose  you  to  go 
as  far  in  that  direction  as  your  conscience  would  warrant  ;  but  I  did  not 
wish  to  place  you  in  any  embarrassing  situation —  any  situation  in  which 
your  friendly  feelings  should  be  on  one  side,  and  your  conscience  or  even 
judgment  on  the  other ;  and,  therefore,  I  chose  not  to  report  myself  to 
you  till  the  services  of  the  Sabbath  were  over.  If  you  had  actually  invited 
me  tb  preach,  I  should  have  told  you  that,  under  existing  circumstances,  I 
had  better  not;  but  no  objection  surely  exists  to  your  preaching  for  nie  — 


JOHN   PIERCE.  337 

you  are  at  liberty  to  preach  the  Gospel  any  where  ;  and  I  should  be  hear- 
tily glad  if  you  would  occupy  my  pulpit  the  next  time  you  come  to  Boston." 

I  recollect  a  case  or  two,  illustrating  his  remarkable  knowledge  of 
minute  facts.  He  happened  to  be  at  my  house  immediately  after  I  had 
received  a  letter  from  Dr.  Chalmers;  and,  while  he  was  looking  with  won- 
der at  the  almost  illegible  hand  in  which  it  was  written,  he  said  with  an 
air  of  no  small  confidence, — "  Dr.  Chalmers  is  just  eighteen  days  older 
than  Dr.  Clianning."  Said  I,  "Doctor,  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  have  cnught 
you  once  ;  Dr.  Chalmers,  I  am  confident,  is  several  years  older  than  Dr.  Clian- 
ning, and  I  think  I  can  prove  it  to  you  here  on  the  spot,  from  some  memo- 
randa that  I  made  after  a  conversation  with  him  in  respect  to  his  age."  lu 
th-is,  however,  I  was  disappointed,  but  still  felt  quite  sure  that  my  impres- 
sion was  correct,  while  the  Doctor  was  equally  confident  that  I  was  in  the 
wrong.  It  was  agreed  that  the  next  time  I  wrote  to  Dr.  Chalmers,  I  should 
refer  the  question  to  his  decision.  I  did  so  ;  and,  in  a  few  weeks,  the 
answer  came  back, — "Dr.  Pierce  is  right  —  I  was  born  on  the  17th  of 
MarclK  1780." 

Happening  to  be  in  Boston,  I  think  in  the  autumn  of  1847,  I  rode  out 
to  Broukline  to  call  upon  Dr.  Pierce,  and  the  moment  after  we  had  met, 
he  said  to  me,  with  no  little  apparent  earnestness, — "  Have  you  thought 
of  any  important  event  to-day?"  I  said  that  I  had  not  thought  of  any 
event  more  important  than  my  coming  out  to  visit  my  friend,  Dr.  Pierce. 
"  There  is  a  far  more  important  event  connected  with  the  day  than  that," 
said  he  — "  think  a  little,  and  see  if  it  does  not  occur  to  you."  After  a  few 
moments,  I  said, — "  Why  this  is  my  birth  day  !"  "  To  be  sure,  it  is  your 
birtli  day,"  said  he,  "and  you  had  not  thought  of  it  until  I  reminded, 
you." 

In  the  winter  of  1848-49,  knowing  that  Dr.  Pierce  had  some  time- 
before  delivered,  in  two  or  three  places,  a  Eulogy  on  John  Quincy  Adams,. 
I  procured  an  invitation  to  him  from  the  Young  Men's  Association  in 
Albany,  to  repeat  it,  as  one  of  their  winter  course  of  Lectures.  He  very 
modestly  consented  to  the  request ;  but,  on  the  day  that  he  was  to  leave 
home  for  Albany,  he  was  summoned  as  a  witness  in  an  important  case  at 
Court,  which  prevented  his  coming.  Another  day  was  then  appointed,  but 
on  that  day  he  was  taken  ill,  and  it  proved  the  commencement  of  the 
illness  that  carried  him  to  his  grave.  To  show  me  how  honestly  he 
intended  to  come,  he  subsequently  sent  me  a  revised  manuscript  copy  of 
his  Eulogy,  in  his  own  fine,  fair  hand,  which  I  have  carefully  preserved  as 
a  testimony  of  his  good-will,  and  as  a  remarkable  illustration  of  his  matter- 
of-fact  character. 

My  last  interview  with  Dr.  Pierce  was  in  May,  1849,  after  his  disease 
had  so  far  fastened  upon  him  as  to  leave  no  doubt  of  its  fatal  termination. 
I  found  him  where  I  had  always  found  him, —  in  his  study  ;  but  he  was 
sitting  in  his  easy  chair,  and  breathing  with  considerable  difficulty.  He 
was,  however,  perfectly  cheerful,  and  spoke  with  deep  emotion  of  the  many 
blessings  by  which  his  decline  was  marked.  He  lent  me,  for  a  few  days, 
several  volumes  of  his  Memoirs,  that  I  might  avail  myself  of  some  of  the 
facts  contained  in  them,  though  he  had  previously  made  very  important 
contributions  to  the  work  in  which  I  was  engaged.     I  received  a  letter 

Vol.  VIII.  22 


338  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

from  him,  written  three  days  before  his  death, — the  last,  I  understood, 
which  he  ever  wrote, —  breathing  the  most  fervent  good-will.  I  always 
found  him  a  generous,  excellent  friend,  and  all  must  admit  that  he  was, 
in  some  respects,  a  most  remarkable  man. 

Tlie  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Pierce's  publications: — 
On  the  Mystery  of  Godliness :  A  Discourse  delivered  at  Medfield,  1797. 
A  Eulogy  on  Washington,  1800.  A  Sermon  preached  at  Newbury,  at  the 
Installation  of  the  Rev.  John  Snelling  Popkin,  1804.  A  Discourse  deliv- 
ered at  Brookline,  on  the  day  that  completed  a  Century  from  the  Incor- 
poration of  the  Town,  1805.  A  Valedictory  Sermon  preached  on  Leaving 
the  Old  Meeting  House  at  Brookline,  ar(,d  a  Dedicatory  Sermon  on 
Entering  tlie  New  House  of  Worship,  1806.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the 
Gathering  of  the  Second  Congregational  Church  in  Dorchester,  1808.  A 
Discourse  delivered  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Clark,  at 
Princeton,  1817.  A  Discourse  delivered  on  the  Lord's  day  after  the  com- 
pletion of  a  Century  from  the  Organization  of  the  Church  in  Brookline, 
1817.  The  Dudleian  Lecture,  delivered  before  Harvard  College,  1821. 
A  Discourse  delivered  at  Canton  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Benjamin 
Huntoon,  1822.  The  Charge  delivered  to  the  Rev.  T.  B.  Fox,  at  New- 
buryport,  1831.  A  Sermon  in  the  "  Liberal  Preacher  "  on  the  Maternal 
Relation,  1835.  A  Sermon  entitled  "Reminiscences  of  Forty  Years," 
1837.  An  Address  delivered  at  the  Funeral  of  the  Hon.  Thomas  A.  Davis, 
1845.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Brookline  Jubilee,  1847.  A  Sermon 
entitled  "  Christians  the  only  proper  name  for  the  Disciples  of  Christ." 
A  Sermon  delivered  before  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  at  the  Annual 
Election,  1849. 

FROM  THE  REV.  GEORGE  PUTNAM,  D.  D. 

RoxBCRT,  September  17,  1850. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  am  happy  to  comply  with  your  request  for  some  notice  of 
our  late  friend  Dr.  Pierce.  But  instead  of  any  thing  fresh,  you  must  take 
what  was  written  by  me  just  after  his  decease,  with  only  such  alterations  as 
may  make  my  remarks  more  suitable  to  the  purposes  of  5-our  intended  work. 

Any  person  attending  the  Funeral  of  Dr.  Pierce  must  have  seen  that  he  was 
•a  man  of  mark  whom  they  were  burying.  There  was  a  great  concourse  of 
people  thronging  with  reverent  and  tender  emotions  around  his  coffin,  and 
among  them  many  men  of  eminent  character  and  station.  It  was  evident  from 
many  signs  that  those  were  not  the  obsequies  of  an  ordinary  man,  or  a  mere 
official  man.  And  those  signs  were  not  fallacious.  He  was  a  distinguished 
•man.  AVhen  his  death  was  announced,  it  was  every  where  taken  much  note 
■of  by  the  press,  and  in  conversation  spoken  of  with  a  feeling  of  interest,  I 
found,  by  all  sorts  of  persons  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  far  in  the  country. 
I  suppose  that  there  was  hardly  a  man  in  Massachusetts  whose  person  was 
knowii  to  so  many  individuals  in  the  State.  It  is  seldom  that  so  many  and 
hearty  expressions  of  affectionate  respect,  from  so  many  quarters,  follow  an 
old  man  to  his  grave. 

And  how  came  he  to  be  thus  distinguished  .'  It  may  seem  a  question  of 
^onie  difficulty,  but  I  will  try  to  answer  it. 

Born  in  Dorchester,  he  just  moved  over  to  that  pleasant  parsonage, —  only 
going  round  by  Cambridge  for  purposes  of  education;  and  there  be  d.velt  for 
more  than  fifty  years;  and  there  he  died.     During  that  period  I  doubt  if  he 


JOHN    PIERCE.  339 

has  ever  been  accused  of  neglecting  a  duty,  or  forgetting  an  appointment,  or 
committing  a  mean,  unjust  or  immoral  action,  or  speaking  a  false,  or  irreverent, 
or  unkind  or  insincere  word. 

But  it  would  be  unfair  to  describe  him  only  by  negatives.  His  was  a  posi- 
tive character,  and  had  great  positive  traits  of  excellence.  He  appears  to 
have  obeyed  and  carried  out  the  two  parts  of  the  great  commandment,  to  love 
God  and  love  man,  with  unusual  earnestness  and  thoroughness. 

His  theological  opinions,  as  to  disputed  points,  were  not,  I  suppose,  very 
clearly  defined  in  his  own  mind.  As  far  as  possible,  he  avoided  taking  sides 
in  the  great  controversy  between  the  Liberal  and  Orthodox  parties,  disclaim- 
ing all  party  names  and  relations  to  the  last.  His  views  of  Theology,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  never  underwent  any  material  change  from  his  early  youth 
to  the  day  of  his  death, —  none,  that  is,  which  he  was  distinctly  conscious  of. 
If  he  was  carried  along  at  all  by  the  progress  of  opinion  around  him,  he  was 
hardly  aware  of  any  change  of  position  in  himself.  His  mind  was  not  of  a 
cliaracter  to  discriminate  sharply  between  shades  of  doctrinal  differences, 
and  being  himself  where  he  always  was,  he  could  see  no  more  reason  for  a 
division  of  the  Congregational  Body  in  1815  than  in  1790.  He  was  strictly 
conservative  in  Theology.  He  entertained"  none  of  the  speculations  of  the  time, 
accepted  no  novelties,  would  give  no  hearing  to  those  who  promised  to  show 
a  better  way  of  truth  than  that  which  he  had  long  walked  in.  He  thought 
that  the  important  truths  of  Christianity  were  as  j)lain  to  the  spiritual  un- 
derstanding as  they  were  ever  likely  to  be  made  by  human  learning,  and  he 
did  not  want  any  young  man  to  give  him  his  spiritual  intuitions  as  substitutes 
for  the  old  texts  about  righteousness  and  love,  grace  and  peace,  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  the  resurrection  of  the  just  to  eternal  life.  His  faith  grew 
up  with  him,  and  grew  old  with  him,  and  it  seems  never  to  have  suflTered  any 
distractions  or  perplexities. 

But  the  most  striking  part  of  Dr.  Pierce's  character  lay  in  his  benevolence. 
He  had  the  kindliest  of  natures.  His  heart  seemed  a  fountain  of  loving  kind- 
ness, always  gushing  up  and  running  over.  Time  and  experience  of  the 
world's  coldness  never  checked  its  stream  or  dried  up  a  drop  of  it.  Wliat  a 
cordial  greeting  was  his!  What  a  beaming  friendliness  on  his  face!  I  never 
knew  the  person  who  took  so  hearty  an  interest  in  so  many  people,  and 
shoued  it  by  such  unequivocal  signs.  He  seemed  to  know  almost  every  body 
and  all  about  him.  And  it  was  not  an  idle  prurient  curiosity  —  if  it  had  been, 
it  would  have  run  into  scandal,  as  it  usually  does  in  those  who  make  it  a 
business  to  know  and  report  every  body's  affairs.  He  had  no  scandal.  His 
love  saved  him  from  that.  He  said  pleasant  and  kind  things.  There  was  no 
venom  under  his  tongue,  no  acid  in  his  breast.  He  probably  never  made  an 
enemy  nor  lost  a  friend.  His  affections  Avere  warm,  his  sympathies  were 
quick.  He  was  generous  according  to  his  means.  He  loved  young  men.  For 
more  than  fifty  years,  without  interruption,  I  have  been  told,  he  travelled  to 
Cambridge  several  times  a  year  to  attend  the  public  exercises,  and  listened  to 
every  student  with  fond  eagerness,  as  to  a  son  of  his  own,  and  forever  after 
remembered  him,  and  in  most  cases  knew  all  about  him. 

Age  did  not  blunt  these  kind  feelings,  or  quench  one  ray  of  their  youthful 
vigour.  Here  he  was  remarkable.  Age  did  not  tend  in  the  least  to  make  him 
shrink  into  himself,  or  to  narrow  the  circle  of  liis  sympathies.  After  seventy, 
he  would  start  off  with  the  ardour  of  a  school-boy,  and  walk  miles  just  to 
sec  an  old  friend,  and  would  live  for  months  after  on  the  pleasure  of  the  inter- 
view. And  he  not  only  loved  other  people  but  he  loved  to  be  loved.  He 
seemed  to  value  nothing  in  this  world  so  much  as  kind  attention,  affection, 
good  fellowship. 

He  was  welcomed  in  all  the  pulpits  to  which  he  had  access,  not  so  much  on 


340  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

account  of  his  preaching  as  on  his  own  account.  People  liked  to  see  him  and 
hear  his  voice,  especially  in  singing,  because  his  soul  was  in  it.  They  liked  to 
see  him,  he  seemed  such  a  personal  fiiend.  His  bare  presence  was  as  accepta- 
ble to  many,  and  perhaps  as  profitable,  as  the  sermons  of  some  much  greater 
men, —  he  was  so  sincere,  so  hearty,  so  kind.  A  word  from  him,  with  his 
great,  cordial,  friendly  voice,  at  the  church  door,  or  in  the  aisle,  would,  for 
multitudes,  make  ample  amends  for  any  dryness  in  the  regular  discourse. 

It  is  very  singular  that  such  warm  affections  towards  both  God  and  man 
did  not  impart  their  unction  to  his  intellect,  and  give  a  character  of  rich  and 
glowing  sentiment  to  his  composition;  but  I  believe  they  did  not.  Tliey  did 
lend  animation  and  force  to  liis  delivery,  but  never  gave  their  fire  to  his  com- 
position, lie  was  not  eloquent,  or  poetical,  or  aifecting  in  his  writing.  Some- 
how there  was  a  connecting  link  missing  between  his  heart  and  his  intellect. 
With  feelings  fresh  and  warm,  and  pure  enough  to  have  made  him  a  poet,  an 
orator,  and  a  splendid  writer,  he  was  not  a  bit  of  either.  It  was  a  singular 
instance  of  disconnection  between  the  two  parts  of  the  mind.  Ilis  great  fer- 
vent heart  is  not  in  his  writings-  But  no  matter, —  he  had  it,  and  every  body 
knew  he  had  it,  and  felt  the  influence  of  it,  was  warmed  by  its  radiance  and 
gladdened  bj''  its  benignity. 

Any  view  of  Dr.  Pierce  would  be  incomplete  that  should  not  include  some 
reference  to  his  last  days.  Providence  greatly  favoured  him  in  his  last  sick- 
ness. His  Aiculties  were  not  impaired,  and  he  was  without  pain.  He  was 
able  till  the  last  to  sit  up  m  his  study  and  receive  liis  friends.  And  how  they 
poured  in  upon  him  !  and  how  glad  he  was  to  see  them  ! — overwhelmed,  he 
said,  with  joy  at  their  kindness.  It  was  so  congenial  to  him  that  it  seemed 
not  to  weary  him.  And  he  was  so  cheerful,  so  happ}', —  nothing  but  happi- 
ness, he  said,  in  his  past  life  or  present  decay;  happy  when  he  laid  his 
hands  on  the  children  that  came  to  him;  happy  in  taking  from  kind  hands  the 
tokens  of  thoughtful  regard  that  were  brought  to  him;  happy  in  greeting  the 
troops  of  brethren  and  parishioners;  happy  in  the  grasp  that  he  knew  would 
be  the  last  of  a  life-long  friend,  and  happ}^  in  the  tears  of  affection  he  shed  on 
the  neck  of  a  foreigner,*  whom  he  never  saw  before,  but  loved  tenderly  as  the 
apostle  of  temperance  and  the  benefactor  of  his  race;  happy  too  in  pointing  to 
the  green  spot  before  his  house,  where  he  said  he  should  soon  be  laid;  and 
happiest  of  all  in  the  prospect  of  the  life  tliat  was  about  to  dawn  on  him.  His 
faith  was  firm,  his  trust  unfaltering.  He  not  onl}'^  submitted  to  God's  will, — 
he  loved  it  and  made  it  his  own.  He  loved  God  and  man,  earth  and  Heaven, 
more  than  ever.  And  one  could  hardly  tell  with  which  hand  his  heart  went 
out  with  most  energy  and  warmth, —  that  which  grasped  the  dear  ties  of 
domestic  and  friendly  love  on  earth,  or  that  which  pointed  in  joyous  and  tri- 
umphant assurance  to  the  opening  mansions  of  the  blest. 

If  these  remarks  upon  the  character  of  our  friend  are  acceptable,  they  are 
entirely  at  your  service. 

With  great  regard  I  remain 

Respectfully  yours, 

GEORGE  PUTNAM. 

PROM  THE  REV.  DANIEL  WALDO. 

Syracuse,  September  12,  1862. 

My  dear  Friend:  My  recollections  of  Dr.  Pierce  all  come  within  the  year 
1810-11,  which  I  spent  in  supplying  the  pulpit  at  Cambridgeport.  He  was  then 
in  the  full  vigour  of  manhood, —  probably  a  little  less  than  forty  years  old. 
I  became  quite  intimate  with  him, —  more  so  I  think  than  with  any  other  cler- 

•  Father  Matthew. 


JOHN    PIERCE.  341 

gyman  in  that  neigliborhood,  unless  it  was  Dr.  Holmes.  I  remember  once  taking 
his  place,  by  his  request,  in  the  Thursday  Lecture.  I  found  it  at  once  easy, 
pleasant  and  profitable  to  be  acquainted  with  him. 

Dr.  Pierce  was  a  man  of  very  superior  social  qualities.  He  was  frank, 
generous  and  confiding.  It  was  well  understood  that  his  .sympathies  were 
chiedy  with  the  Liberal  paity,  but  I  never  heard  from  him  an  unkind  expres- 
sion towards  the  Orthodox,  or,  so  far  as  I  remember,  towards  any  individual 
belonging  to  that  party.  And  my  impression  then  was,  and  still  is,  that  he 
approached  nearer  to  the  orlliodox  standard  of  doctiine  than  almost  an}'  other 
■  man  who  was  called  Unitarian.  I  u.sed  to  attend  the  meetings  of  the  Boston 
Association,  and  he  was  always  there  asa  matter  of  course.  Those  meetings,  so 
far  as  I  witnessed  them,  seemed  to  be  meetings  fur  good  cheer  as  mucii  as  any- 
thing else  ;  good  eating  and  drinking  being  not  the  least  important  of  the  ex- 
ercises. Dr.  Pierce's  fine  social  qualities  came  out  here  to  great  advantage. 
He  seemed  to  like  every-body,  and  every-body  liked  him.  He  made  it  all 
bright  sunshine  wherever  he  went.  I  doubt  wlielher  he  ever  conversed  ten 
minutes  with  a  person  whom  lie  did  not  leave  with  a  deep  impression  of  his 
kindly  spirit. 

I  heai'd  him  preach,  I  think  repealed!}',  at  tlio  Tiiursday  lecture.  Ills  ser- 
mons, wilhtAit  being  very  strong!}'  marked,  were  .serious  and  sensible,  and 
of  a  i)retty  decided  evangelical  charactei'.  He  had  a  strong,  clear  voice,  but,  if 
my  memory  serves  me,  there  was  no  great  variety  in  his  intonations.  I  think 
he  had  very  little  gesture  ;  but  it  was  not  the  fashion  then,  as  it  is  now,  to 
throw  about  the  hands  as  if  one  wev^  fighting  bumble-bees. 

Dr.  Pieice,  as  every-body  knew,  dealt  exclusively  in  facts  and  cared  little 
for  any  thing  else.  He  made  the  ages  of  his  friends,  and  especially  of  di.s- 
tinguished  men  who  had  been  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  a  study.  I  think 
very  few  persons  have  known  him,  who  have  not  some  anecdote  to  relate  con- 
cerning him,  showing  this  wonderful  peculiarity. 

Very  truly  yours, 

D.  WALDO. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  FORSYTH,  D.  D. 

>i  EWBURGH,  March  25,  18G3. 

Rev.  and  dear  Friend  :  My  recollections  of  the  late  Dr.  Pierce  of  Brook- 
line,  which  you  have  asked  me  to  send  you,  are  too  kw  and  insignificant  to 
be  of  value.  On  my  own  account,  I  sincerely  regret  tliat  it  is  so.  I  now  feel 
a  real  sorrow  that  I  did  not  avail  myself  of  the  privilege  which  I  might  have 
enjoyed,  of  visiting  him  at  his  own  pleasant  home,  and  of  sharing  the  hos- 
pitality he  was  so  ready  to  extend  to  all  men,  but  especially  to  those  of  the 
household  of  faith.  That  he  belonged  to  that  household  himself  I  could  not 
doubt,  after  I  came  to  know  him  personally. 

The  first  time  I  met  him  was  at  a  Commencement  of  Harvard  College,  which 
I  attended  in  company  with  one  of  my  colleagues,  as  a  sort  of  delegate  from 
the  College  of  New  Jersey.  We  were  both  struck  with  the  heartiness  with 
which  he  entered  into  and  enjoyed  the  exercises  of  that  .academic  festival,  and 
with  the  consideration  yielded  to  him,  by  common  consent,  though  the  Doc- 
tor himself  seemed  to  be  one  of  the  most  unassuming  of  men. 

Subsequently,  I  was  brought  into  close  contact  with  him  at  some  of  the 
meetings  of  the  American    Board.       I   well  remember  the  feeling  of  surprise 

■rt'hich  I  experienced — on  the  ground  of  his  denominational  relation when  I 

discovered  that  he  was  there,  not  as  a  casual  spectator,  but  (if  I  mistake  not) 
as  an  honorary  member,  certainl}'  as  one  who  took  a  lively  interest  in  the 
purposes  and  proceedings  of  the  assembly.    I  had  no  opportunity  of  comparing 


342  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

our  opinions  on  doctrinal  points,  but  I  could  not  help  drawing  my  own  con- 
clusion as  to  his  views,  not  only  from  the  fact  of  his  attending  the  meetings 
of  the  Board,  but  also  from  the  kind  of  exercises  in  which  he  appeared  to 
have  special  delight,  and  at  which  he  was  invariably  present.  No  one  who 
looked  upon  his  tine,  open,  venerable  countenance,  bearing  as  it  did  the  visi- 
ible  stamp  of  guilelessness  and  goodness,  could  fail  to  say  to  himself,  '  Tliere 
is  a  man  whose  heart,  I  am  pretty  sure,  is  in  full  sympathy  with  the  cause  of 
missions;'  and  this  opinion  must  have  been  converted  into  absolute  certainty, 
if  the  observer  had  caught  sight  of  Dr.  P.  during  tlie  devotional  and  othei-  re- 
ligious exercises  of  the  meeting.  But  it  is  needless  for  me  to  give  you  my  im- 
peifect  impressions  of  him,  when  there  are  so  many  who  knew  him  long  and 
intimately,  upon  whose  recollections  you  Avill  be  at  liberty  to  draw  as  largely 
as  you  please. 

Believe  me  very  affectionately  yours, 

JOHN  FORSYTH. 

FROM  THE  REV.  FREDERICK  H.  HEDGE,  D.  D. 

BuooKLiNE,  January  27,  1863. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  recollections  of  Dr.  Pierce,  about  which  you  question  me, 
date  from  the  years  of  my  college  life. 

As  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Overseers  of  Harvard  University,  ever  pro- 
foundly interested  in  all  the  affairs  of  that  institution,  he  was  often  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  always,  at  Commencements  and  all  college  festivals,  appeared 
conspicuous  among  the  dignitaries  present  on  those  occasions. 

He  seemed  to  me,  at  first,  though  but  entering  on  the  fifties  (as  I  now 
reckon)  the  impersonation  of  venerable  age, —  an  impression  due  to  his  snow- 
white  hair  which  had  turned  at  thirty.  Subsequent  and  nearer  observation 
discovered  a  fresh  though  pale  complexion,  an  unwithered  look,  an  elastic  car- 
riage, and  altogether  such  an  absence  of  all  decrepitude  as  greatly  modified  the 
hasty  estimate  of  his  senility. 

«'  What  a  pleasant  looking  old  man,"  we  youngsters  said,  accustomed  to 
read  in  men  of  that  age  a  judgment  on  our  own  immaturity.  "  The  atrocious 
crime  "  found  pardon,  and  not  only  pardon  but  connivance,  nay,  approval,  in 
those  friendly  eyes  lit  up  by  a  heart  which  could  reach  its  sympathies  into 
our  green  years. 

His  countenance  was  one  of  those  which  are  always  in  full  light,  and  admit 
no  shadow,  and  contract  no  frown.  The  word  pleasant  but  faintly  expresses  its 
radiant,  kindly  cheer.  A  face  where  no  deep  sorrow  and  no  strong  passions 
had  set  their  seal.  No  jollity,  or  fun,  or  even  humour,  was  legible  there;  the 
light  on  those  features  was  simply  the  pure  joy  of  life,  a  delight  in  being  such 
as  is  possible  only  to  holy  and  believing  minds.  The  world  of  his  experience 
reflected  the  sunshine  of  his  own  peace  and  was  full  of  blessing.  lie  heartily 
rejoiced  in  all  good  gifts  with  devout  gratitude  to  God  for  all.  He  had  great 
pleasure  in  "  times  and  seasons,"  in  College  and  State  Holidays  with  all  their 
belongings,  in  Election  and  Convention  Sermons,  Dudleian  Lectures,  Thursday 
Lectures,  Ordinations  and  Dedications,  all  of  which  he  failed  not  to  attend. 
Above  all,  an  incredible  and  insatiable  pleasure  he  had  in  facts,  especially  sta- 
tistical facts  relating  to  the  College  and  the  ministry.  These  he  hugged,  and 
treasured,  and  chuckled  over,  as  a  miser  over  his  gold;  but,  with  very  unmi- 
serly  communicativeness,  loved  to  share  with  all  his  friends,  and  was  ready 
to  bestow  even  on  the  indifferent  and  unthankful.  • 

His  looks  betokened  the  entire  presence  of  the  man  in  every  place  and  com- 
pany in  which  you  saw  him.  There  was  no  introversion,  no  pre-occupation, 
no  wandering  but  the  outward   wandering  of  the  eye  for  a    few  moments  at 


JOHN    PIERCE.  o43 

public  meetings,  when  he  set  himself  to  count  or  compute  the  numbers  present, 
and  to  register  and  classify  such  as  were  known  to  him, —  so  many  ministers; 
so  many  older,  so  many  younger  than  himself,  so  many  before,  so  many  after 
him  on  the  College  Catalogue.  Then  there  Avere  occasional  glances,  not  of 
impatience  but  of  curiosity,  at  the  old-fashioned  silver  watch  which  he  never 
forgot  to  set  by  the  clock  of  the  old  South  Church  every  Thursday  wlien  he 
went  into  town  to  assist  at  the  Weekly  Lecture  in  Chauncy  Street.  With  this 
he  timed  all  public  speech,  and  kept  the  log  of  sermons  and  prayers. 

Soon  after  my  graduation  I  came  into  family  relations  with  Dr.  Pierce,  and 
was  often  a  guest  at  his  house,  where  I  had  abundant  opportunity  of  studying 
his  character  as  it  manifested  itself  in  private  life.  There,  too,  the  joyfulness 
which  beamed  from  him  in  public  was  a  prominent  trait.  A  happier  man  I 
never  knew,  nor  certainly  one  who  had  a  better  right  to  be  happy,  so  far  as 
moral  qualities  avail  to  secure  that  state.  The  absence  of  all  worldliness, 
of  all  solicitude  about  the  future,  (notwithstanding  his  large  familj' and  small 
means.)  of  all  rivalry  and  ambition,  of  all  pride  of  appearance,  of  all  self-seek- 
ing,—  his  entire  humility,  his  perfect  trust  in  Divine  Providence  for  that  which 
is  least  as  well  as  for  the  greatest,  his  ready  acquiescence  in  the  Divine  will, — 
all  this  resulted  in  a  calm  of  soul  not  often  witnessed  m  otherwise  good  and 
religious  men. 

Something,  no  doubt,  of  this  uniform  cheerfulness  is  to  be  ascribed  to  vigor- 
ous health.  But  health  has  also  its  moral  side,  and  if,  in  his  case,  it  was 
partly  due  to  a  naturally  sound  constitution,  it  was  also  fairly  earned  by  tem- 
perance and  by  bodily  exercise,  of  which  it  cannot  be  said  that  in  this  mat- 
ter it  '<profiteth  nothing."  This  last  he  carried  to  what  seemed  to  me  a 
needless  excess.  At  tliree  o'clock,  A.  M.,  in  summer,  he  was  in  his  garden, 
where  he  did  a  day's  work  before  breakfast.  In  the  winter,  long  before  light, 
the  strokes  of  his  axe  resounded  from  the  wood-shed,  where  all  the  lire-wood 
was  prepared  by  him  for  family  use.  In  his  visits  to  the  city  and  to  Cam- 
bridge, and  in  his  exchanges  with  neighbouring  ministers,  he  oftener  walked 
than  rode.  By  this  means,  he  kept  his  athletic  frame  —  full  six  feet  in  height 
and  proportionally  broad — at  the  uttermost  mark  of  manly  vigour.  Though 
not  what  is  called  "  a  heavy  feeder,"  he  brought  to  his  meals  the  keen  relish  of 
perfect  health.  The  food  was  always  of  the  simplest,  but  he  insisted  that  he 
had  dined  royally,  and  doubted  if  her  Majesty,  the  Queen  of  England,  fared  so 
well. 

Intellectually,  it  always  seemed  to  me  that  he  never  did  full  justice  to  his 
powers.  His  preaching,  though  acceptable,  and  marked  by  accuracy  of  state- 
ment and  a  diction  severely  correct,  wanted  the  force  which  might  have  been 
expected  from  a  nature  so  large  and  capable.  An  excessive  caution  and  cer- 
tain homiletic  traditions  derived  from  the  standards  of  his  youth, —  the  dryest 
period  in  the  history  of  the  American  pulpit, —  seemed  to  hamper  the  action 
of  his  mind  in  that  function.  lie  never  poured  himself  freely  forth  in  his  dis- 
courses, but  found  a  speedy  limit  to  his  thought  in  some  inward  or  outward 
restraint, —  some  self-distrust  or  critical  bugbear  that  ruled  him.  Whatever 
success  he  had  as  a  preacher  was  due  to  the  reverend  and  loved  person  rather 
than  his  thought  or  illustration.  The  best  thing  he  did  in  the  pulpit  was  his 
singing.  Into  that  he  put  his  whole  heart;  it  was  eminently  effective.  Those 
whom  the  sermon  had  left  cold  could  not  fail  to  be  moved  by  the  fervour  and 
unction  of  his  psalmody. 

He  could  hardly  be  called,  in  the  years  in  which  I  knew  him,  a  student,. 
although  a  good  theological  and  miscellaneous  scholar  after  the  standard  of 
his  own  time.  He  read  no  Greek  but  the  New  Testament, —  but  in  that  he 
was  thoroughly  at  home,  reading  it  as  fluently  as  the  English  version,  and 
using  it  always  in  the  family  devotions.     I  am  not  aware  of  having  derived 


344  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

intelleclual  stimulus  from  his  conversation,  although  so  largely  indebted  to 
him  for  wise  counsel  and  the  precious  lessons  of  his  life.  Our  inLelleclual  ten- 
dencies were  widely  dissimilar.  I  was  apt  to  assume  an  ideal  position,  he 
planted  himself  tirnily  upon  facts. 

"  Facts,"  he  would  say  triumphantly,  after  battering  me  witli  his  statistics, 
««  are  stubborn  things," — a  characterization  which  did  not  much  recommend 
them  in  nu'  estimation.  lie  judged  all  questions  statistically,  nunieiically, 
reasoning  in  numbers,  "  for  the  numbers  came."  He  even  went  so  far  as  to 
reckon  up  the  texts  in  the  New  Testament  which  seemed  to  favour  the  Trini- 
tarian doctrine  on  the  one  liand,  and  those  which  tallied  with  the  Unitaiian 
view  on  the  other.  He  made  out  a  tie  between  them,  and  therewith  justified 
his  position  of  uncompromising  neutrality  between  the  two  parties, —  a  posi- 
tion resulting  from  his  natural  conservatism.  His  Theology  retained  to  the 
last  the  moderate  Arian-Arminian  type,  which  had  been  the  prevailing 
doctrine  of  this  vicinity  at  the  time  of  his  entrance  on  the  ministry.  He 
steadfastly  refused  to  take  the  name  of  Unitaiian,  though  forced  in  his  latter 
years  by  Orthodox  exclusiveness  to  associate  chiefly  with  the  clergy  of  that 
communion.  Nor  was  he  more  ready  to  embrace  the  Connecticut  doctrine, 
when,  in  1826  and  '27,  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  and  his  associates  attempted  to 
reform  the  Theology  of  Boston.  Rationalism  on  the  one  hand,  and  Calvinism 
on  the  other,  were  equally  distasteful  to  him.  He  regarded  both  as  attempts 
to  be '<  wise  above  what  was  written," — a  species  of  presumption  against 
which  he  seriously  cautioned  his  young  friends. 

Whatever  sectaries  might  think  of  his  Theology,  bigotry  itself  would  not 
deny  to  him  the  Christian  name,  nor  venture  to  impugn  his  Christian  worth. 
Those  who  came  nearest  to  him  best  know  with  what  harmony  and  complete- 
ness the  Christian  graces  combined  in  his  person.  Faith,  Hope,  Chaiity, 
Humility,  Patience,  Godliness, —  it  was  impossible  to  say  which  of  these 
traits  was  most  conspicuous  in  a  life  which  exhibited  them  all.  What 
impressed  me  as  much  as  any  thing  in  liis  character  was  its  unworldliness. 
It  happened  to  him,  in  advanced  j^ears,  to  lose  his  entire  property,  the  sav- 
ings of  his  whole  professional  life,  by  a  bad  investment.  This  misfortune 
elicited  no  complaint,  it  never  for  an  instant  disturbed  his  serenity;  I  doubt 
if  it  cost  him  a  pang.  No  allusion  to  the  subject  was  permitted  in  the  family. 
I  discovered  it  by  accident  long  after  the  event.  Frugal  in  the  extreme  in 
his  personal  expenditures,  because  so  simple  in  his  tastes,  there  was  no 
pinching  in  his  economy,  nothing  penurious  in  his  habits,  nothing  contracted 
in  his  views.  He  was  open-handed,  and  gave  in  proportion  to  his  means  as 
liberally  as  any  I  have  known.  It  was  remarked  that  with  all  his  retentive- 
ness  of  facts  and  figures,  he  never  could  remember  sums  of  money  ;  they 
were  the  one  piece  of  statistics  that  did  not  interest  him. 

The  good  old  man  had  all  that  should  accompany  old  age,  and  especially  the 
appropriate  "troops  of  friends."  Young  and  old  rejoiced  in  liis  fellowship. 
Even  little  children  were  attracted  by  the  sunshine  of  his  countenance.  In 
his  last  sickness  the  sympathy  of  a  wide  community  flowed  to  his  door. 
Men  resorted  to  his  house  as  to  a  shrine,  and  none  left  it  without  a  bene- 
diction. 

I  think  he  had  never  an  enemy  in  the  world.  Even  as  a  "temperance  man," 
and  zealous  advocate  of  total  abstinence  from  all  alcoholic  drinks,  he  so  man- 
aged his  cause  as  to  give  no  offence  and  provoke  no  ill-will.  In  an  intercourse 
extending  over  a  quarter  of  a  century,  I  recall  no  unworthy  sentiment,  no 
harsh  censure,  no  word  of  bitterness.  He  lived  peaceably  with  all  men,  and 
when  he  died,  it  seemed  to  those  who  knew  him  as  if  something  of  heavenly 
grace  had  been  withdrawn  from  the  world. 


JOSEPH    TUCKERMAN.  345 

I  have  set  down,  at  your  request,  Dear  Sir,  what  occurs  to  me  at  the  moment, 
concerning  our  common  friend.  I  am  sorry  to  want  the  time  for  a  more  meth- 
odical arrangement  of  my  reminiscences. 

With  best  wishes  for  success  in  your  enterprise,  believe  me 

Sincerely  yours, 
FKEDERICK  il.  HEDGE. 


JOSEPH  TUCKERMAN,  D.  D  * 

1801  —  1840. 

Joseph  Tuckerman,  a  son  of  Edward  and  Elizabeth  (Harris)  Tucker- 
man,  was  born  in  Boston,  on  the  18lh  of  January,  1778. 

His  father  was  distinguished  for  great  conscientiousness,  and  for  modest 
but  sterling  worth.  In  the  connnencement  of  the  Revolution,  he  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  John  Hancock,  and  was  among  the  early  Presidents 
of  the  IMassachusetts  Charitable  Mechanic  Association,  His  mansion  at 
the  "South  End  "in  Boston  was  pierced  by  a  cannon  ball  during  the  siege, 
and  the  place,  for  many  years,  was  designated  by  a  black  oval  inserted  in 
the  wall. 

His  mother,  who  was  a  person  of  superior  intellect  and  the  finest  moral 
qualities,  bestowed  great  pains  upon  his  domestic  education,  and  one  of  the 
mo.st  pleasant  of  the  occupations  of  his  childhood  was  sitting  by  her  siile, 
and  reading  to  her  the  New  Testament  while  she  was  busy  witli  her  needle. 
He  seems  to  have  very  early  formed  the  purpose  of  entering  the  ministry, 
and  to  have  adhered  to  it  steadily  until  the  object  of  his  aspirations  and 
hopes  was  finally  attained.  He  was  fitted  for  College,  partly  at  Phillips 
Academy,  Andover,  and  partly  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Thacher,  of  Dedliau), 
in  whot^e  family  he  lived.  In  due  time  he  entered  Harvard  College,  where 
he  was  distinguished  by  great  kindliness  of  feeling,  buoyancy  of  spirit,  and 
devotion  to  the  lighter  branches  of  English  literature,  rather  than  by  intense 
application  to  the  severer  studies  ;  though,  after  leaving  College,  the  habit 
of  his  mind  seemed  to  change,  and  his  studies  assumed  a  much  graver  and 
more  substantial  character.  He  graduated,  in  the  same  class  with  Dr. 
Channiiig  and  Judge  Story, "in  1798.  After  devoting  the  usual  time  to 
the  study  of  Theology,  under  the  Rev.  Mr.  Thacher,  who  had  partly  super- 
intended his  preparation  for  College,  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  it  is  be- 
lieved, by  the  Boston  Association,  and  shortly  after  was  invited  to  become 
the  Pastor  of  the  church  in  Chelsea,  as  successor  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Phillips 
Payson.  Chelsea  was,  at  that  time,  a  small  village,  and  the  people  were 
generally  farmers,  in  moderate  circumstances,  and  of  very  humble  intel- 
lectual culture.  But,  notwithstanding  this,  Mr.  Tuckerman  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  accept  their  call,  and  he  was,  accordingly,  ordained  and  installed 
there,  on  the  4th  of  November,  1801,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Thacher  preaching 
the  Sermon. 

*  Memoir  of  Dr.  Tuckerman. —  Ware's  Unitarian  Biography,  II. —  Ms.  from  Mr.  H.  T. 
fuckerman. 


346  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

On  llie  5th  of  July,  1803,  Mr,  Tuckerman  was  married  to  Aljigail, 
daugliter  of  Samuel  and  Sarah  (Rogers)  Parkinan,  and  siwter  of  tlie  hite 
l\uv.  Dr.  Francis  Parkman,  of  Boston.  She  was  a  lady  of  the  most  amia- 
ble and  attractive  qualities,  but  she  survived  her  marriage  only  four  years, 
and  died,  the  mother  of  three  children.  On  the  3d  of  November,  ISOS,  he 
was  again  married  to  Sarah,  daughter  of  Col.  Gary,  of  Clielsea,  wlio  was 
spared  to  him  during  a  period  of  thirty-one  years.  The  following  is  his 
own  testimony  concerning  her  : —  "  You  can  hardly  imagine  a  human  being 
more  true,  more  disinterested,  more  faithful  to  right  and  duty.  Never 
physically  vigorous,  she  has,  notwithstanding,  the  greatest  moral  courage 
and  independence.  In  times  of  difficulty  and  danger  she  is  as  calm,  as 
self-possessed,  as  under  the  n)Ost  tranquil  circumstances  ;  and  has  passed 
through  long  scenes  of  jirivation,  responsibility,  and  watching,  which  might 
liave  worn  down  a  strong  man."  IJy  this  marriage  there  were  seven 
children. 

During  his  ministry  at  Clielsea  iMr.  Tuckerman's  attention  was  specially 
drawn  to  the  temptations  and  necessities  of  sea-faring  men  ;  and  with  him 
originated  the  first  effort  that  was  made  in  this  country  for  their  improve- 
in(.Mit.  In  the  winter  of  lSll-1'2  he  formed  the  first  Society  that  was 
established  for  the  "  Religious  and  Moral  Improvement  of  Seamen."  This 
Society  was  for  several  years  in  active  operation,  and  the  Tracts  which  it 
put  in  circulation  are  said  to  have  exerted  a  benign  influence  upon  not  a 
small  number  of  the  class  for  whom  they  were  designed. 

In  181G  Mr.  Tuckerman,  witli  his  wife,  paid  a  visit  to  England,  in  the 
hope  of  benefitting  his  health,  which  had  been  failing  for  some  time  ;  but 
Lis  visit  was  very  brief,  and  he  returned  without  having  experienced  much 
apparent  advantage  from  his  tour.  Tie  continued,  however,  in  the  active 
discharge  of  his  professional  duties  till  the  spring  of  1826,  when  he  found  it 
necessary  to  relinquish,  in  some  degree,  the  labours  of  the  pulpit.  On  the 
4lh  of  November  following,  just  twenty-five  years  from  the  day  of  his  Ordi- 
nation, he  preached  his  Farewell  Sermon  at  Chelsea.  In  a  work  whicli  he 
published  many  years  later,  entitled  "  Principles  and  Results  of  the  Min- 
istry at  Large  in  Boston,"  he  writes  concerning  his  labours  at  Chelsea  as 
follows  : — 

"  I  ]iassed  twenty-tive  years  as  the  minister  of  a  small  Relipiious  Society  in  the  coun- 
try. The  lines  of  my  parish  tliere  were  the  lines  also  of  the  town,  there  was  no 
other  Religions  Society  in  tlie  ))lace  than  that  to  whicli  I  mini.stererl.  Tliere  the  i-ich 
and  the  poor,  or.  in  otJier  wor(ls,  tjiosci  who  had  some  capital  and  those  wlio  had  nonOj 
nivt  on  terms  of  equality  before  the  church  door  on  Sunday,  interchanged  expressions 
of  friendly  "greeting,  and  separated  to  pass  into  tlieir  own  pews  or  into  free  gMlleries, 
M'ithont  ihe  slightest  feeling,  in  either  case,  that  distinction  of  condition  was  thus  ini- 
pli'd  between  them.  In  every  family  of  my  flock  I  was  at  liome.  I  kiunv  intiiuatdy 
all  the  parents,  all  the  childi-en,  and  almost  every  one  who  was  employed  any  cotisid- 
crahle  time  as  a  labourer  upon  the  farms  around  me.  I  visited  all,  and  almost  all,  in 
return,  visited  me  ;  and  to  every  one  I  ever  felt  myself  at  liberty  to  speak  of  his  inter- 
ests, mora!  as  well  as  secular,  with  the  freedom  of  a  brother.  I  had  given  much  time 
to  pnstoral  intercourse,  to  communications  with  individual  minds  upon  subjects  iqion 
which  I  had  addresse<l  th(mi  from  the  imlpit  ;  and  I  had  l(>arned  that  this  intercourse 
was  a  means  not  less  important  than  the  services  of  the  church  for  giving  vitality  to 
the  religious  principle  among  the  members  of  a  congregation.  I  had  learned  also,  not 
only  that  conversation  might  usefully  be  held  upon  religious  and  moral  subjects,  but 
with  many  who  liad  been  indifferent,  or  even  opposed  to  them  ;  and  that  not  a  few 
were  most  glad  to  be  addressed  ui>on  them  by  their  Pastor,  whose  diffidence  would 
have  restrained  tiiem  from  making  these  the  leading  subjects  of  their  conversations 
with  him." 


JOSEPH    TUCKERMAN.  347 

In  1824,  lie  was  honoured  with  the  Degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

Ininiediatuly  after  the  resignation  of  his  pastoral  charge  at  Chelsea,  he 
entered  upon  his  work  as  Minister  at  Large  in  Boston,  to  which  i»lace 
he  soon  removed  witli  his  family.  He  now  commenced  visiting  the  poor, 
and,  though  there  was  much  that  was  discouraging  at  the  beginning  of  his 
enterprise,  his  prospects  of  usefulness  soon  began  to  brighten.  At  the  end 
of  tlie  first  year  he  had  become  acquainted  with  an  hundred  and  seventy 
families;  and,  at  the  expiration  of  another  six  months,  he  reckoned  two 
hundred  and  fifty  families  as  belonging  to  his  pastoral  charge,  and  there 
was  scarcely  a  dark  alley  or  by-place  in  the  city  which  he  had  not  explored. 
To  this  form  of  benevolent  activity  Dr.  Tuckerman  devoted  the  residue  of 
his  life,  labouring  to  improve  and  elevate  the  condition  of  the  poor  with 
all  the  intensity  of  a  ruling  passion. 

In  1S33  Dr.  Tuckerman's  health  had  become  greatly  reduced  under  his 
manifold  labours,  and  he  suffered  a  severe  pulmonary  attack  which  threat- 
ened his  life.  When  he  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  travel,  he 
accepted  an  invitation  from  his  intimate  and  highly  valued  friend,  the  Hon. 
Jonathan  Phillips,  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit  to  England,  witii  the  in- 
tention of  passing  the  following  winter  in  Italy, —  a  purpose,  however,  which 
was  not  accomplished.  Though  his  immediate  object  in  crossing  the  ocean 
was  the  restoration  of  his  health,  yet  the  great  work  to  which  his  life  was 
now  devoted,  was  always  in  his  thoughts,  and  wherever  he  paused  on  his 
journey,  he  busied  himself,  so  far  as  his  strength  would  permit,  in  ex- 
ploring the  retreats  of  poverty.  In  London  he  had  the  pleasure  of  be- 
coming personally  acquainted  with  that  eminent  Hindoo,  the  llajah  Kummo- 
hun  Hoy;  and  the  interview  between  them  is  said  to  have  been  mutually 
delightful.  After  visiting  several  of  the  most  important  towns  in  England, 
and  spending  some  little  time  in  Dublin,  he  passed  over  to  France,  where 
he  was  treated  with  great  kindness  by  the  13aron  Degerando,  whose  phil- 
anthropic labours  had  taken  nearly  the  same  direction  with  Dr.  Tucker- 
man's. He  returned  to  this  country  in  the  early  part  of  the  summer  of 
1834,  with  his  health  less  benefitted  by  his  tour  than  he  had  expected.  He 
was  no  longer  able  to  engage  in  the  active  duties  of  the  ministry,  though 
his  heart  was  by  no  means  withdrawn  from  his  chosen  field,  and  he  was  con- 
stantly on  the  alert  to  introduce  into  it  as  many  new  labourers  as  he  could. 
In  a  letter  to  a  friend  in  England,  written  in  1835,  he  speaks  thus  of  the 
success  of  the  great  enterprise  to  which  he  had  devoted  himself: — 

"  We  have  now  seven  Ministers  at  Large.  One  is  an  Episcopalian,  one  a  Baptist,  two 
are  Orthodox  Congregationalists.  or  as  tliey  would  be  called  in  England,  Independents, 
three  are  Unitarians;  and  on  all  great  general  interests  we  are  in  perfect  nnison.  Does 
not  this  look  like  Christian  advancement  ?  We  have  the  most  entire  public  confidence, 
and,  what  is  far  better,  we  all  feel  that  we  have  the  blessing  of  the  common  Father 
with  us." 

In  the  summer  of  1836  Dr.  Tuckerman  suffered  a  very  severe  pulmon. 
ary  attack,  which  induced  him  to  pass  several  weeks  in  Newport,  R.  I. 
He  had  hoped  that,  by  this  means,  his  health  would  become  so  much  in- 
vigorated that  he  would  be  able  to  labour  to  some  advantage  during  the 
succeeding  winter;  but,  instead  of  this,  as  the  winter  approached,  he  was 
obliged  to  seek  a  milder  climate,  and,  accordingly,  took  up  his  residence 


348  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

for  several  months  on  the  Island  of  Santa  Cruz.  He  returned  in  the  spring, 
as  it  was  thought,  with  his  health  considerably  improved  ;  but  there  was 
too  little  of  vital  force  remaining  to  justify  any  attempt  to  resume  his  la- 
bours. He  was  able,  however,  in  the  latter  part  of  October,  1837,  to  at- 
tend the  Ordination  of  a  new  colleague,  Mr.  Sargeant,  and  to  give  hira 
"  the  Charge."  The  occasion  was  one  of  great  interest  to  him,  and  he 
subsequently  declared  that,  during  the  exercise,  he  felt  all  the  elasticity 
of  youth. 

In  1838  Dr.  Tuckerman  published  a  book  which  he  had  long  had  m 
contemplation,  on  "  The  Principles  and  Results  of  the  Ministry  at  Large 
in  Boston."  Though  it  had  never  a  wide  circulation,  either  in  this  coun- 
try or  in  England,  the  Baron  Degerando  speaks  of  it,  as  throwing  "inval- 
uable light  upon  the  condition  and  wants  of  the  indigent,  and  the  influence 
which  an  enlightened  charity  can  exert." 

Shortly  after  this  he  was  subjected  to  a  most  desolating  aiBiction  in  the 
death  of  his  wife.  In  letters  written  to  his  friends  in  reference  to  this 
event,  he  expresses  himself  in  the  strongest  terms  in  respect  to  the  excel- 
lence of  her  character,  and  the  bitterness  of  liis  own  bereavement,  while 
yet  he  declares  himself  perfectly  resigned  to  the  will  of  God.  The  shock 
occasioned  by  this  separation  operated  very  injuriously  upon  his  health; 
and,  for  a  while,  he  was  alarmingly  ill  ;  but  he  so  far  revived  that,  after 
much  hesitation,  he  consented  to  try  the  effect  of  a  voyage  to  Cuba,  which 
was  recommended  as  the  only  means  of  prolonging  his  life.  He,  accord- 
ingly, sailed  for  Havana,  accompanied  by  his  daughter.  For  a  time  after 
his  arrival  there  his  health  seemed  to  in)prove,  and  he  proceeded  to  the  in- 
terior of  the  Island.  But  there  he  began  rapidly  to  decline,  and  it  was 
■with  some  difficulty  that  they  were  able  to  return  to  Havana,  His  mem- 
ory became  greatly  impaired^  except  in  regard  to  events  that  dated  back 
to  a  remote  period.  His  sufferings  were  most  intense,  but  he  was  often 
heard  to  say, —  "'The  cup  which  my  Father  has  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink 
it?"  He  died  at  Havana  on  the  20th  of  April,  1840.  His  remains  were 
conveyed  to  Boston,  and,  after  appropriate  funeral  services  at  King's 
Chapel,  conducted  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Greenwood,  were  laid  in  the  Mount 
Auburn  Cemetery,  where  a  monumetit  has  been  erected  at  an  expense  of 
about  one  thousand  dulhirs,  contributed  by  a  very  large  number  of  persons 
in  different  churches,  and  by  many  among  the  poor,  who  were  desirous  thus 
to  express  their  gratitude  to  their  beloved  and  venerated  benefactor. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Tuckennan's  publications: — 

A  Funeral  Oration,  occasioned  by  the  Death  of  General  George  Wash- 
ington, written  at  the  request  of  the  Ijoston  Mechanic  Association,  and 
delivered  before  them,  18«(0.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  request  of  the 
Ancient  and  Honourable  Artillery  Company,  on  the  day  of  their  Election 
of  Officers,  1804.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  Samuel  Gil- 
man,*  to  the  Pastoral  Care  of  the  Second  Independent  Church  in  Charles- 

•  Samuel  Oilman,  a  son  of  Frederick  and  Abigail  H.  (Somer)  Oilman,  was  born  in  Olouces- 
ter,  Mass.,  February  16,  1791.  In  early  ehildbood  be  lost  his  father,  and  when  he  was  about 
seven  years  old  his  mother  took  hiui  to  Atkinson,  N.  11.,  and  placed  him  at  the  Academy, 
then  under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Stephen  Peabody.  The  family  subsequently  removed  to 
Salem,  Mass.,  and  Samuel  was,  for  some  time,  employed  as  a  clerk  in  the  old  Essex  Rank.  In 
due  time  he  entered  Harvard  College,  where  he  graduated  with  high  honour  in  1811.  He 
Boon  commenced  the  study  of  Theology,  chiefly  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Ware,  and  remained 


JOSEPH      TUCKERMAN.  349 

ton,  S.  C,  1819.  Two  Sermons,  preached  in  Marbleliead,  one  on  the 
Government  of  the  Passions,  the  other  on  Erroneous  Views  of  lleligion, 
1820.  A  Discourse  preached  before  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gos- 
pel among  the  Indians  and  others  in  North  America,  1821.  A  Sermon 
preached  on  the  Twentieth  Anniversary  of  his  Ordination,  1821.  The 
Distinctive  Character  and  Claims  of  Christianity  :  A  Sermon  preached  at 
the  Ordination  of  tlie  Rev.  Orville  Dewey,  Pastor  of  the  First  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  New  Bedford,  1823.  A  Sermon  preached  at  tlie  Ordina- 
tion of  Charles  F.  Barnard  and  Frederick  T.  Gray,*  as  ministers  at  Large 
in  Boston,  1824.  A  Letter  on  the  Principles  of  the  Missionary  Enter- 
prize,  1826.  A  Letter  addressed  to  the  Hon.  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  Mayor 
of  Boston,  respecting  the  House  of  Correction  and  the  Common  Jail  in 
Boston,  1830.  Prize  Essay  :  An  Essay  on  the  Wages  paid  to  Females  for 
their  Labour,  in  the  furm  of  a  Letter  from  a  Gentleman  in  Boston  to  his 
Friend  in  Philadelphia,  1830.  An  Introduction  to  "  The  Viftitor  of  the 
Poor,"  translated  from  the  French  of  the  Baron  Degerando,  by  a  Lady  of 
Boston,  1832.  A  Letter  to  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Benevolent 
Fraternity  of  Churches  respecting  their  Organization  for  the  Support  of  the 
Ministry  at  Large,  1834.  Gleams  of  Truth,  or  Scenes  from  Ileal  Life, 
1835.  A  Letter  respecting  Satita  Cruz,  as  a  Winter  Residence  for  Inva- 
lids, addressed  to  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  of  Boston,  1837.  The  Principles 
and  Results  of  the  Ministry  at  Large,  1838. 

at  Cambridge,  engaged  in  this  and  kindred  studies,  for  several  years.  In  1817  he  was 
appointed  Mathematical  Tutor  in  the  College,  and  held  the  office  for  two  years.  In  1819 
he  went  to  Charleston,  S.  C,  where  he  received  a  call  from  the  Unitarian  Church,  then 
vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Anthony  I\I.  Forster.  lie  accepted  the  call,  and  was  ordained 
and  installed  Pastor  of  that  Churth,  on  the  1st  of  December,  1819.  Here  he  laboured  with 
great  diligence  and  acceptance  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  In  1837  he  received  the 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College.  In  the  winter  of  1858  he  came  to  the 
North  to  visit  his  friends,  and  died  suddenly  at  the  house  of  his  son-in-law,  Kev.  Charles  J. 
Bowen,  at  Gloucester,  Mass.  on  the  ytli  of  February,  aged  sixty-six.  In  his  general  inter- 
course with  society,  he  was  exceedingly  popular,  possessing  not  only  a  richly  endowed  and 
highly  cultivated  mind,  but  the  most  genial  and  kindly  spirit,  and  manners  singularly  urbane 
and  attractive.  Though  I  never  met  him  but  once,  I  often  had  occasion  to  test  his  kindness, 
and  no  friend  ever  conferred  favours  upon  me  more  promptly  or  more  gracefully.  lie  was 
married  on  the  14th  of  October,  1819,  to  Caroline,  daughter  of  Samuel  Howard,  of  Boston,  a 
lady  of  rare  gifts,  and  well  known,  in  the  walks  of  literature,  by  her  attractive  productions. 
He  had  five  children, —  four  daughters,  who,  with  their  mother,  survived  hinu  and  one  son, 
who  died  in  early  life.  He  published  a  Sermon  on  the  Introduction  to  the  Gospel  of  John, 
1825;  A  Sermon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Unitarian  Church  in  Augusta,  Ga.,  IS27 ;  Memoirs 
of  a  New  England  Village  Choir,  1829;  Pleasures  and  Pains  of  a  Student's  Life,  1852;  Con- 
tributions to  Literature,  Descriptive,  Critical,  and  Humorous,  Biographical,  Philosophical 
and  Poetical.  He  translated  the  Satires  of  Boileau,  and  published  some  original  poems, 
among  which  are  the  History  of  a  Kay  of  Light,  and  a  Poem  read  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa 
Society  of  Harvard  College.  He  was  also  a  liberal  contributor  to  the  North  American 
Review,  Christian  Examiner,  Southern  Quarterly  lleview,  and  other  periodicals. 

*  FuEDERiCK  Tarell  Gray  was  born  in  Boston  in  the  year  1804.  He  was  educated  to 
business  with  excellent  prospects,  but  was  gradually  drawn  into  the  clerical  profession  by  the 
deep  interest  which  he  took  in  the  moral  condition  of  the  lower  classes.  He  preached  his 
first  sermon  in  an  upper  chamber,  at  the  junction  of  Merrimack  and  Portland  streets,  Boston, 
in  December,  1826.  He  began  his  ministry  at  the  Friend  Chapel  in  Boston,  in  October,  1833; 
removed  to  the  Pitt  Chapel  in  1836  ;  and,  after  labouring  here  very  successfully  for  several 
years,  became  the  minister  of  the  Bulfinch  Street  Church.  With  this  church  he  was  connec- 
ted till  nearly  the  time  of  his  death,  when  he  asked  a  dismission,  and  was  appointed  Secre- 
tary of  the  Sunday  School  Society.  In  1853  he  visited  California  for  the  purpose  of  minis- 
tering, during  a  year,  to  a  church  recently  established  in  San  Francisco.  He  died  in  Boston, 
March  9,  1855.  His  publications  are  Christ  and  Him  crucified  :  Two  Sermons  preached  in 
the  Bulfinch  Street  Church,  at  the  close  of  the  Second  Year  of  the  Ministry  of  the  Pastor, 
1841.  A  New  Year's  Sermon,  1847.  A  Sermon  on  the  Duties,  Encouragements  and  Re- 
wards of  the  Sunday  School  Teacher,  1847.  An  Address  at  the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Bulfinch 
Street  Church,  1852.  Extract  from  a  Sermon  the  Sunday  following  the  Interment  of  Amos 
Lawrence,  1853. 


350  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Ill  aJdUioii  to  tlic  iiljove,  Dr.  Tuckerman  is  the  author  of  a  large  num- 
ber uf  llopurts  of  tlie  jMiiiistry  at  Large,  and  of  several  Tracts  published 
by  ihe  American  Unitarian  Association. 

The  most  definite  statement  wliich  I  can  find  of  Dr.  Tuckerman's  views 
of  Christian  doctrine,  as  given  by  himself,  is  contained  in  the  following  ex- 
tract from  a  letter  to  one  of  his  friends  written  in  1834  : — 

"Tliereare  certain  speculative  questions  in  Theology,  upon  which  some  decide  very 
aiithurilatively,  but  of  which  I  am  accustomed  to  thiulc  but  little,  and  to  say  notiiing. 
Tliere  are,  however,  certain  elementary  principles  of  religion,  which  have  all  the  force 
of  axioms.  One  of  these  piinci|)les  is  the  absolute  unity  of  the  Great  Su{)renie.  An- 
other is,  that  lie  is  our  Father,  and  that  He  is  jjerfect  rectitude  and  perfect  love.  An- 
other is,  tiiiit  1  was  made,  and  tiiat  all  my  fellow-beings  were  made,  for  the  know- 
ledge, love  and  enjoyment  of  God.  Another  is,  that  the  supreme  good  of  every  hu- 
man being  is  virtue,  or  a  conformity  to  the  will,  and  an  assimilation  to  the  character, 
of  God.  Another  is,  that  I  need,  and  that  all  need,  light  and  aids  in  the  discharge 
of  duties.  And  another  is.  that  my  greatest  beni'factor  is  the  benefactor  of  my  soul, 
of  my  immortal  nature.  These  at  once  are  teachings  of  Christianity  and  principles 
by  which  it  is  to  be  interpreted.  Under  the  influence  of  these  principles,  the  New  Tes- 
tament, as  often  as  I  open  it,  or  thiidi  of  it.  becomes  to  me  '  glad  tidings  of  great  joy.' 
I  cannot  think  of  Jesus  but  with  the  sentiment,  '  Thanks  be  to  God  for  his  unsjjeak- 
able  gift.'  My  best  evidence  of  the  truth  of  our  religion  is  in  the  fact  that  while  it 
reveals  to  me,  in  myself,  the  capacities  of  a  nature  wliich  was  formed  for  the  infinite, 
the  immense  and  the  everlasting,  it,  and  it  alone,  goes  to  the  height  and  the  depth 
of  the  soul  —  it,  and  it  alone,  supplies  the  objects  in  which  these  wants  ever  found,  or 
can  find,  satisfaction.  My  great  inquiries  are  not,  therefore,  for  the  metaphysical  na- 
ture of  Christ  or  for  any  of  the  secret  things  of  God.  I  \vould  be  one  in  spirit  with 
Christ,  as  He  was  one  with  the  Father.  This.  I  am  sure,  is  the  end  of  Ciu-istianity 
here,  and  will  be  the  perfecti<ni  of  Heaven  hereafter.  With  the  will  of  God.  as  illus- 
trated by  the  spirit  of  Jesus  for  my  law,  with  redemption  or  deliverance  from  all  sin, 
and  progress  in  all  viitue  and  holiness,  as  my  end,  1  liave  no  fear  of  any  dangerous 
error  in  my  faith.  Ah.  my  friend,  our  danger  lies,  not  in  our  liability  to  errimeous 
conceptions  of  Christian  docti  ine,  but  in  our  detective  sensibility  to  Cliristiau  obli- 
gations, and  in  our  i)oor  and  low  standard  of  Christian  duty.  Let  the  same  mind  be 
in  you  which  was  also  in  Christ;  and  be  'alive  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,' 
is  the  language  of  our  religion  to  all  its  believers.  Any  lower  aim  than  this  is  un- 
■wortliy  of  us  as  his  disciples;  nor  can  I  conceive  that  any  faith,  which  does  not  minis- 
ter to  our  advancement  in  the  si)irit  and  life  o'  Christ,  can  do  any  tiling  to  advance  our 
qualification  for  the  immortal  blessedness  of  the  Christian's  Heaven." 

FROM  HENRY  T.  TUCKERMAN,  ESQ. 

Oswego,  N.  Y.,  June  15,  1855. 

My  dear  Sir  :  A  visit  of  a  few  days  to  my  sister,  residing  in  this  place, 
gives  me  the  tirst  opportunity,  since  the  plea.sant  hour  I  passed  with  you  in 
Albany  la.st  week,  to  note  the  impressions  you  desire  in  regard  to  the  charac- 
ter of  my  uncle.  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Tuckerman. 

When  I  compare  his  demeanour  and  aspect  with  the  present  race  of  clergy- 
men, I  feel  that  with  him  departed  a  generic  type  of  the  profession  almost  ob- 
solete. Ilis  thin,  aquiline  face,  and  hair  combed  back  from  the  brow,  his 
benevolent  manner  and  habit,  on  all  occasions,  of  expressing  sentiments  and 
taking  a  stand  instantly  suggestive  of  his  calling,  made  him  more  distinctly 
clerical  to  the  most  casual  observer  than  is  usually  the  ca.se  with  ministers 
now.  Indeed,  he  took  both  pride  and  pleasure,  and  considered  it  his  duty,  to 
assert  the  principles  and  extend  the  .sympathies,  which,  in  old  times,  and  in 
early  American  society,  were  expected  from  a  Preacher  of  the  Gospel.  This 
earnest  and  habitual  challenge  to  the  world  he  unconsciously  bore  in  his  air, 
looks  and  conversation.  lie  could  not  be  five  minutes  in  the  presence  of  others, 
without  expressing,  directly  or  indirectly,  what  Swcdenborgians  call  his 
"use,"  which  was  to  advocate  what  he  deemed  true  and  right,  to  act  the  re- 
former, the  peace-maker  and  the  Christian  brother  ;  sometimes,  perliaps 
with  unwise  zeal,  but  always  in  sincerity  of  hoart  and  with  ardour.     His  mo- 


JOSEPH    TUCKERMAN.  351 

tions,  when  in  health,  were  nervously  rapid,  his  flow  of  words  ready  and  free, 
his  tone  usually  pleading  ;  he  was  capable  of  great  cheerfulness,  and  an  ex- 
citable temperament  lent  freshness  and  cordiality  to  liis  address.  lie  impres- 
sed all  with  a  sense  of  uprightness,  and  inspired  strangers  with  the  utmost 
confidence.  lie  was  the  creature  of  impulse,  and  frankly  put  himself  in  rela- 
tion with  any  one  he  encountered,  whom  he  desired  to  convince  or  influence. 
lie  was  ready,  except  when  enfeebled  by  illness,  under  which,  in  various  forms, 
he  suffered  frequently,  to  preach,  argue,  sympathize,  counsel,  rebuke,  com- 
passionate or  pray,  as  the  occasion  demanded;  and  if  there  be  such  a  tempera- 
ment as  the  clerical,  that  is,  an  instinctive  readiness  to  enter  into  religious  or 
benevolent  action,  through  unlimited  emotional  capacity,  I  think  he  possessed 
it  in  an  eminent  degree  ;  and  it  was  this  thatinade  him  efficient  as  a  mission- 
ary to  the  poor.  The  sect  to  which  he  belonged  have  been  reproached  with 
intellectual  haidihood.  a  coldness  of  tone  growing  out  of  the  predominance  of 
reflection  and  taste  over  sensibilit}^  and  passion;  but  lie  was  an  exception,  and 
one  of  his  warmest  admirers  was  a  Methodist  preacher,  of  remarkable  fer- 
vour.    The  'flow  of  soul'  took  precedence  in  him  of  <the  feast  of  reason'. 

Indeed,  the  basis  of  his  character  was  a  peculiar  ardour  of  feeling,  in  which 
consisted  both  its  strength  and  weakness.  All  my  recollections  exhibit  him 
as  an  enthusiast  ;  and  the  reserved  manners,  and  somewhat  formal  tone  of 
mind,  which  used  to  prevail  in  New-England,  made  him  a  striking  contrast  to 
those  with  whom  I  came  in  most  frequent  contact.  So  vivid  was  his  example  in 
this  respect  that,  to  my  young  imagination,  goodness  and  emotion,  or  rather  the 
display  of  the  latter,  were  long  identified.  It  was  a  curious  speculation  to  me, 
even  iu  boyhood,  to  reconcile  the  moral  superiority  I  earl}'  learned  to  appreci- 
ate in  my  excellent  relative  and  revered  Pastor, — Dr.  Channing,  with  the  total 
diversity  of  manner  and  expression  in  the  two  friends.  It  is  impossible  to 
fancy  a  greater  diversity  than  they  presented  when  engaged  in  conversation, 
whether  argumentative,  serious  or  playful,  the  one  all  impulse,  and  the  other 
profoundl}^  calm  and  self-possessed.  AVhen  I  learned  how  to  discriminate,  it 
became  evident  to  my  apprehension  that  the  one  was  indebted  to  contempla- 
tion, and  the  other  to  sj'inpathy,  for  the  influence  each  exerted,  and  the  inter- 
est of  their  individual  characters  —  perhaps  it  was  this  very  contrast  in  dis- 
position that  attached  them  so  strongly.  My  uncle's  efficiency  arose  from  the 
zeal  with  which  he  engaged  in  any  pursuit  ;  his  original  force  of  mind  was 
not  remarkable  ;  his  natural  powers  of  expression  were  limited;  but  few  men 
threw  themselves  so  entirel}^  into  an  enterprise,  a  discussion,  an  intimacy,  or 
even  a  casual  project.  From  a  condition  of  great  physical  exhaustion,  or  a  mood 
of  entire  listlessness,  I  have  often  seen  him  suddenly  emerge,  like  one  rejuve- 
nated, at  the  sight  of  a  congenial  acquaintance,  the  mention  of  a  benevolent 
scheme,  or  the  idea  of  an  interesting  journey.  Judge  Story,  his  chum  at  Har- 
vard, among  his  numerous  pleasant  anecdotes,  would  describe  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  he  quoted  Shakspeare  and  praised  Addison,  his  ardour  of  mind, 
under  the  influence  of  college  life,  having  taken  a  literary  direction.  My  own 
first  impressions  of  this  pervading  quality  of  his  nature  relate  to  what  used 
to  be  called  the  Unitarian  contioversy  ;  but  it  was,  in  fact,  quite  as  much  a 
struggle  between  the  spirit  as  the  creed  of  two  religious  parties  ;  it  being  im- 
possible to  divide  even  the  most  prominent  representatives  of  each  sect  into 
the  advocates  of  uniform  doctrines  ;  there  was  every  shade  of  belief  from  the 
most  rigid  Calvinism  to  mere  Deism  ;  but  under  the  titles  of  Liberal  and  Or- 
thodox, the  two  great  theological  parties  in  New  England  were  mainly  divided 
in  regard  to  the  relation  of  God  to  man,  the  nature  of  Christ,  and  the  destiny 
of  humanity.  My  earliest  remembrance  of  my  uncle's  professional  enthu- 
siasm was  the  deep  interest  he  took  in  the  conversion  of  Rammoliun  Roy 
to  the  form  of  Christian  belief  he  cherished  ;  he  corresponded  with  this  Ori- 


352  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ental  Unitaiian,  whose  portrait  long  ornamented  his  study  ;  and  used  to 
descant,  in  glowing  terms,  on  the  spread  of  views  which  he  deemed  essential 
to  the  welfare  of  his  race.  Many  good  men  of  other  denominations  respected 
his  honest  warmtli  of  suntiment,  and  were  attracted  by  it  to  the  man,  while 
they  repudiated  his  doctrine.  Two  incidents  that  occurred,  during  the  heat 
of  this  transition  period  in  the  religious  community,  I  have  never  forgotten  ; 
and  tliey  illustrate  his  habitual  ardour.  One  day  he  was  seized  with  a  sud- 
den illness  that  gave  the  family  much  alarm  ;  his  pliysician,  an  active  mem- 
ber of  the  orthodox  ciniicli,  was  called,  and,  as  he  ministered  to  his  patient, 
■who  could  with  difficult}-  articulate,  the  latter,  under  the  belief  that  his  last 
hour  had  arrived,  gasped  out  repeatcdlj^,  "Do  not  misrepresent  me.  Doctor  : 
remember,  oh,  remember,  I  die  in  my  faith!"  "To  bear  testimony,"  as  the 
old  Covenanters  were  wont  to  say,  he  was,  indeed,  ever  zealous  and  em- 
phatic. 

lie  preached,  about  this  time,  the  Ordination  Sermon  of  his  friend,  the  Rev. 
Orville  Dewey,  at  New  Bedford.  My  father  was  a  delegate  on  that  occasion, 
and  our  visit  there,  being  almost  the  first  journey  of  my  childliood,  remains 
clearly  impressed  on  my  mind.  The  schism  that  afterwards  divided  the 
Society  of  Friends,  had  just  then  broken  out,  and  was  the  exciting  theme  in 
that  community.  The  Unitarian  church  was  filled,  on  the  day  of  the  services, 
by  members  of  all  the  Religious  Societies  in  the  town.  That  "  religion  is  an 
active  principle  "  was  the  proposition  my  uncle  attempted  to  demonstrate  in 
his  sermon.  Of  the  argument,  of  course,  I  can  recall  nothing;  but  the  earnest- 
ness of  his  manner,  the  ardour  of  his  deliver}^,  the  length  of  his  discourse, 
unconsciously  prolonged  by  numerous  extemporaneous  episodes,  are  very  dis- 
tinct in  the  retrospect.  The  attention  was  profound;  and  a  feeling  of  unusual 
interest  was  evident  among  the  auditors,  owing  doubtless  to  the  religious 
sympathies  of  many  present  having  been  quickened  by  the  dominant  excite- 
ment and  the  strong  appeals  of  the  Preacher.  The  moment  he  ceased,  and 
before  the  hymn  could  be  announced,  forth  from  a  pew  immediately  before  me 
stepped  a  fine  looking  man  in  Quaker  costume;  standing  in  the  aisle,  he 
exclaimed  in  tremulous  but  feeling  tones,  "  Let  us  pray  !"  At  first  there 
■was  a  look  of  surprise,  but  in  a  moment  all  seemed  to  understand  that  this 
was  a  conscientious  seceder  from  the  ultra  Orthodox  Friends,  or,  at  all  events, 
one  who  felt  impelled  to  obey  the  intimations  of  the  Spirit,  whenever  and 
wherever  moved.  A  more  eloquent  prayer  I  never  heard — it  seized  on  the 
hearts  of  the  assembly,  and  was  a  deep  and  spontaneous  response  to  the 
sentiment  of  the  discourse.  We  afterwards  dined  at  the  house  of  this  gentle- 
man; and,  just  as  we  took  our  seats,  the  host  inquired  of  my  uncle  how  many 
children  he  had.  He  stated  the  number  then  living,  and  added,  "  and  two  in 
Heaven."  "  IIow  do  you  know  that.'" — asked  a  guest;  and  this  was  the 
signal  for  one  of  the  most  obstinate  disputations  on  the  conditions  of  a  future 
state  to  which  I  have  ever  listened.  With  characteristic  oblivion  of  the  pro- 
prieties of  time  and  place,  my  uncle  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  and,  forgetful 
of  his  dinner  and  the  unpolemical  part  of  the  companj',  fairly  overwhelmed  us 
■with  his  vindication  of  "  the  ways  of  God  to  man." 

This  self-absorption,  incident  to  all  enthusiastic  men,  occasionally  led  to 
amusing  results.  One  evening,  he  entered  the  house  adjoining  his  own,  hung 
up  his  hat  in  the  entry,  and  seeing  a  fair  neighbour  in  the  parlour,  welcomed 
her  with  unusual  cordiality  — "  This  is  indeed  kind,  my  dear  Madam,"  said 
he,  "  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  thus  sitting  at  your  work,  and  making  your- 
self at  home  — it  is  truly  neighbourly — just  what  I  like."  He  drew  a  chair 
to  the  fire  and  began  to  chat,  his  amused  companion  perceiving  and  being 
determined  to  humour  the  mistake  —  after  about  half  an  hour,  wishing  to 
■write  a  note,  he  looked  to  his  accustomed  corner,  and  missed  his  desk,  and 


JOSEPH    TUCKERMAN.  353 

then  glancing  at  the  wall,  wondered  what  had  become  of  the  portrait  of  his 
venerable  friend, —  the  great  Peace  Apostle,  Noah  AVorcester,  and  at  last  the 
truth  flashed  upon  hiui  that  he  was  in  the  wrong  house.  One  morning  he  sent 
to  the  livery  stable  for  the  horse  and  chaise  with  which  he  made  visits  to  the 
poor  —  word  was  brought  that  they  had  not  been  returned  the  previous  even- 
ing; and  then  he  remembered  having  been  completely  pre-occupied,  the  day 
before,  with  an  afflicted  faniil}^  from  whose  humble  home  he  had  retuined  on 
foot;  a  search  was  instituted,  and  the  vehicle  found  at  the  end  of  Long  Wharf, 
where  the  poor  animal  had  passed  the  whole  night  under  the  lee  of  a  cask  of 
molasses  !  When  he  consulted  Abernethy,  on  his  first  visit  to  England  for 
his  health,  forgetful  of  the  Doctor's  well-known  antipathy  to  circumlocution, 
ha  expatiated  upon  the  importance  of  health  to  him  as  the  Pastor  of  a  "  lit- 
tle parish  in  Chelsea,"  about  which  he  indulged  in  some  very  natural  but  rather 
untimely  regrets,  until  the  impatient  physician  cut  him  short  with  ««  no  mat- 
ter about  your  little  parish — go  home  and  build  a  barn."  Though  inclined 
at  first  to  resent  this  unsympathetic  dictum,  my  uncle  followed  the  advice,  and 
found  it  precisely  adapted  to  his  case;  he  secured  thereby  exercise,  and  had  a 
mechanical  employment  that  occupied  his  attention  at  the  same  time;  and 
when  the  barn  was  finished  his  health  was  restored. 

I  do  not  think  any  written  memorial  can  give'  an  adequate  image  of  one 
whose  influence  was  so  singularly  personal.  Impatient  for  results,  he  seldom 
thought  out  any  subject,  except  for  an  immediate  object.  The  best  things  he 
said,  wrote  or  did,  were  the  direct  and  instant  off'spring  of  his  awakened  sen- 
sibilitj'.  His  mind  was  far  more  active  than  profound;  his  language  more 
diffuse  than  finished;  it  was  through  sympathy  rather  than  reflection  that  he 
achieved  good.  Enlist  his  feelings  and  you  had  his  will.  Warm  in  liis  attach- 
ments, fervent  and  somewhat  exclusive  in  conversation,  alwa3's  engrossed  in 
some  alfcction,  experiment  or  course  of  action,  it  was  the  living  man,  and  not 
his  gifts  or  achievements,  that  best  represented  all  he  was.  lie  was  more  of 
a  social  being  than  a  scholar,  moie  of  a  philanthropist  than  a  thinker.  In  the 
denomination  to  which  he  belonged*  with  such  pulpit  orators  as  Buckminster, 
Ware,  Dewey,  Greenwood  and  Channing,  Avhose  writings  have  a  standard 
literary  value,  he  never  sought  renown  as  a  Preacher.  The  field  of  duty  tO' 
which  be  was  first  appointed  was  obscure,  though  singularly  in  need  of  an 
eflicient  clergyman.  No  village  near  Boston  was  more  the  resort  of  fellows- 
<'that  hang  loose  about  town"  than  Chelsea,  although  several  excellent 
families  were  included  in  the  parish.  Among  the  former  he  did  much  good, 
and  to  the  latter  he  greatly  endeared  himself  by  the  kindly,  self-devoted  and 
sincere  spirit  in  whicli  he  fulfilled  his  duties.  But  in  those  days  of  slow  com- 
munication he  was  somewhat  isolated,  and  dependent,  in  a  great  measure,  for 
society  upon  Boston.  I  remember  his  home  as  a  delightful  place  to  visit,  when 
a  child,  and  a  scene  of  domestic  enjo3'ment,  whose  rural  quiet  was  sometimes 
invaded  by  the  monthly  gathering  of  the  neighbouring  clergy,  always  an  occa- 
sion of  much  interest.  My  uncle's  temperament,  his  ph3^sical  and  moral  need 
of  activity',  the  quickness  of  his  sympathies,  his  social  disposition  and  the- 
marked  superiority  of  his  parochial  labours  over  those  of  the  pulpit, — all  indi- 
cated a  different  sphere,  as  f\ir  better  adapted  to  elicit  his  powers  of  useful- 
ness. The  project  of  a  "  Ministry  at  Large,"  to  be  sustained  by  the  combined 
aid  of  the  various  Unitarian  Churches,  was  a  precedent,  the  importance  of 
which  can  hardly  be  overrated.  It  was  an  enterprise  precisely  fitted  to  my 
uncle's  character,  tastes  and  ability;  and  this  was  made  evident  the  moment 
he  entered  upon  its  functions.  Ilis  whole  nature  was  quickened;  he  interested; 
the  young  and  the  wealthy  in  behalf  of  his  mission;  his  services  at  the  Free 
Chapel  were  fully  attended;  at  the  office  of  the  Association  a  record  was  kept 
of  all  the  poor  known  to  be  without  employment  in  the  city,  with  such  facts  of 

Vol.  VIII.  23 


354  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

their  history  as  were  needed  to  their  intelligent  relief.  My  uncle  became  the 
almoner  of  the  rich  and  the  confidant  of  the  poor;  he  visited  families  who  had 
no  religious  teachers  and  no  regular  source  of  livelihood,  collected  and  reported 
facts,  corresponded  with  the  legislators  at  home  and  abroad,  and  thus  opened 
the  way  for  a  more  thorough  understanding  of  the  condition  of  the  indigent 
and  the  means  of  relieving  them,  the  causes  of  pauperism  and  the  duty  of 
Christian  communities  towards  its  victims.  A  work  entitled  "  Principles  and 
Results  of  the  Ministry  at  Large,"  besides  a  series  of  Annual  Reports  to  the 
Association  that  appointed  him  to  the  office,  abundantly  indicates  the  indirect 
value  of  his  labours  to  the  political  economist  and  to  the  charitable  enquirer, 
as  well  as  the  great  amount  of  immediate  good  effected  in  the  way  of  physical 
relief  and  moral  reformation.  These  labours  initiated  a  new  sphere  of  Protes- 
tant charity;  they  excited  much  interest  in  England,  and  one  of  the  ablest 
emanations  of  his  pen  was  an  eloquent  rebuke  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  for  views 
advanced  by  him  for  the  prevention  of  pauperism  in  Great  Britain,  which 
ignored  the  highest  claims  of  humanity  in  order  to  subdue  a  material  evil. 
The  friendships,  correspondence,  discussions  and  personal  ministrations  inci- 
dent to  this  extensive  undertaking,  absorbed  his  time,  thoughts  and  feelings 
for  several  years.  His  craving  for  usefulness,  his  need  of  action,  and  his  love 
of  truth,  were  all  gratified'.  His  object  met  with  the  highest  recognition  at 
home  and  abroad;  and  his  nature  thus  found,  at  last,  the  free  scope  and  am- 
ple inspiration  required  for  one  to  whom  sympathetic  activity  and  earnest 
devotion  were  alike  an  instinct  of  character  and  a  demand  of  conscience. 

Very  respectfully  and  truly  yours, 

HENRY  T.  TUCKERMAN.  ' 

FROM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

Boston,  September  9,  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  remember  hearing  Dr.  Tuckerman  preach  between  1815  and 
1820  in  the  North  Church  of  Salem,  while  he  was  a  Pastor  in  Chelsea;  and  I 
know  he  Avas  a  very  acceptable  Preacher,  and  reputed  at  that  time  to  be  a 
high  Arian.  But  his  preaching  was  rather  practical  than  doctrinal.  One  of 
his  sermons  made  a  very  deep  impression  on  my  mind,  and  I  think  has  been  a 
recognized  part  of  its  furniture  ever  since.  It  was  upon  the  text, — <<  There 
are  yet  seven  thousand  men  in  Israel,  who  have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal;" 
and  he  made  it  teach  that  the  Christian,  however  dark  the  prospect  around 
him,  and  however  he  might  seem  to  be  alone  in  any  cause  which  he  had  evi- 
dence was  the  cause  of  God,  should  never  doubt  that  there  was  a  multitude, 
somewhere,  working  with  him,  and  so  take  courage. 

Subsequently,  ill  health  compelled  Dr.  Tuckerman  to  relinquish  his  pastoral 
charge,  which  seemed  very  dear  to  him;  but  it  was  not  many  years  before  his 
prevailing  love  of  pastoral  duty  had  involved  him  in  the  cares  of  the  Ministry 
©f  the  Poor  in  Boston,  which  began  in  spontaneous  visits  on  his  part;  and 
when  he  found  how  great  was  the  field,  he  became  so  zealously  interested  as 
to  attract  the  co-operation  of  his  much  loved  friends,  Dr-  Channing  and  Mr. 
Jonathan  Phillips.  They  aided  him  by  their  counsels  and  sympathy  as  well 
as  by  pecuniary  contribution.  For,  although  the  plan  was  to  give  moral  and 
spiritual  aid  to  the  poor,  he  found  it  necessarj^  that  material  aid  should  be 
given  also,  in  some  instances,  and  preferred  it  should  come  from  some  other 
source,  as  he  wished  to  have  the  sentiment  towards  himself  in  the  minds  of 
the.se  people  wlioUy  unadulterated  with  personal  expectations.  I  saw  much 
of  Dr.  Tuckerman  while  he  was  in  this  relation,  as  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
spending  my  evenings  with  Dr.  Channing,  and  Dr.  Tuckerman  was  a  frequent 
and  familiar  visitor.     For  some  reasons,  he  and  Mr.  Phillips  and   Dr.  Chan- 


JOSEPH    TUCKERMAN.  355 

ning  used  to  meet  once  a  week  to  take  counsel  together  in  regard  to  his  philan- 
thropic work,  in  which  they  all  seemed  equally  engaged,  though  Dr.  Tucker- 
man  was  the  active  and  public  agent  of  this  great  charity. 

The  effect  of  it  upon  himself  was  very  interesting  to  me.  lie  was  naturally 
self-conscious  and  sentimental,  and  being  an  invalid,  was  perhaps  a  little 
"  sultr}'  "  in  his  manners.  But  as  he  grew  more  and  more  fervent  in  this 
work,  and  saw  more  and  more  of  the  self-forgetting  resignation  of  the  vir- 
tuous and  pious  poor,  under  their  hardships  and  sufferings,  he  forgot  himself 
more  and  more,  in  sympatliy  with  them.  When  he  came  to  see  Dr.  Chan- 
ning,  he  would  tell  of  the  noble  virtues  that  he  had  witnessed, —  the  sublime 
piety  which  expressed  itself  in  patience  and  immortal  hopefulness,  especially 
in  the  case  of  women.  He  would  also  tell  of  the  temptations  of  the  poor,  and 
how  much  he  found  to  do  in  strengthening  them  to  hold  fast  their  integrity  in 
different  straits,  and  how  a  very  little  timely  sympathy  availed.  Dr.  Chan- 
iiing  was  exceedingly  earnest  that  the  sufferers  should  not  be  pitied  into  weak- 
ness, and  that  the  poor  should  not  be  degraded  by  the  help  of  those  who 
seemed  to  be  above  them.  He  wanted  them  to  be  helped  to  help  themselves, 
for  he  believed  that  to  cherish  the  dignity  of  human  nature  into  consciousness 
was  to  touch  the  highest  spring  of  energy  ;  and  he  believed  it  might  be  done, 
without,  in  the  smallest  degree,  infringing  upon  religious  humility.  And  Dr. 
Tuckerman  fully  acted  in  this  spirit,  and  grew  more  and  more  to  reverence 
those  among  whom  he  ministered.  It  was  wonderful  how  he  was  received  by 
even  the  vicious,  and  how  often  he  found  it  possible  to  awaken  in  those  who 
seemed  at  fii'st  to  be  hopeless  subjects,  self-respect  and  hope,  leading  to  the 
most  happy  results.  He  grew  every  day  and  hour  more  real,  as  he  acted  in 
this  noble  way  ;  and  it  did  indeed  seem,  when  you  heard  him  talk,  as  if  the 
worldly  society  of  the  better  classes  was  stale,  flat  and  unprofitable,  in 
comparison  with  what  he  found  in  what  are  called  tiie  lower  walks  of  life. 
But  he  would  never  let  you  call  them  <<  lower,"  he  would  say, —  <<  less  world- 
favoured." 

It  was  in  this  ministry  he  met  with  Father  Taylor,  the  Methodist  Sailors' 
Preacher,  whose  rare  genius  and  great  nature  he  was  one  among  the  first  to 
recognize.  I  remember  once  Dr.  Channing  told  me  with  great  delight  that  he 
was  telling  Brother  Tuckerman  that  he  must  endeavour  to  find  among  these 
people  co-adjutors  in  his  work  (he  was  always  inquiring  after  and  soliciting 
these)  for  "perhaps  he  would  discover  another  Taylor."  "Another  Tay- 
lor!"—  exclaimed  Dr.  Tuckerman  —  <<  as  well  might  you  expect  to  find 
another  Homer." 

As  he  made  progress  in  his  benevolent  work, —  endeavouring  to  recover  the 
lost,  helping  the  feeble  minded,  and  recognizing  the  unknown  brethren,  who 
were  not  perhaps  sealed  M'ith  the  name  of  Christ,  though  they  were  his  in 
spirit,  he  grew  less  speculative  and  more  practical  himself.  He  would  saj^, — 
"  Christianity  is  a  life, —  not  a  scheme  of  metaphj'sical  abstractions.  Its  sphere 
is  rather  the  heart  and  will  than  the  brain  and  imagination.  Its  fruits  are 
not  words  but  moral  growth,  enabling  men  to  work  with  their  hands,  day  after 
day,  and  grow  meanwhile  more  sweet,  noble,  kind,  helpful,  pure  and  high- 
minded.  Much  of  his  conversation  with  Dr.  Channing  was  upon  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  method  of  the  life  He  led  among  the  poor  to  whom  he  ministered.  Dr. 
Channing  was  always  meditating  on  the  Gospels.  The  scope  and  bearing  of 
every  word  and  deed  of  Jesus,  even  of  his  manner  on  various  occasions,  was 
an  exhaustless  study,  and  his  object  was  to  divine  from  what  He  did  and  said, 
how  it  was  intended  that  men  should  be  addressed  and  generally  treated, 
when  we  are  trying  to  help  them  towards  the  religious  life.  And  what  was 
beautiful  to  me  was  that  they  did  this  without  self-exaltation.  They  seemed 
to  feel  that  they  had  no  advantage  over  the  poor  except  in  fortune  ;  and  Dr 


356  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Tuckerraan  was  overflowing  with  the  expression  of  what  he  perpetually  gained 
from  the  example  and  tone  of  mind  of  those  with  whom  he  mingled  in  sym- 
pathy. He  sometimes  expressed  momentary  impatience  with  Dr.  Channing, 
because  he  persisted  in  saving  his  own  small  bodily  strength  for  making  .ser- 
mons ;  and  would  seem  to  disparage  all  forms  of  the  Christian  ministry  but 
the  one  in  which  he  was  so  ardently  engaged.  Dr.  Channing,  however, 
silently  persevered  in  his  own  line,  without  being  at  all  careful  to  have  his 
friend  acknowledge  his  righteousness  in  doing  so.  He  enjoyed  the  proof  it 
gave  of  the  earnestness  and  thorough  devotion  of  Dr.  Tuckerman  to  the  path 
he  had  ciio.sen,  that  he  could  not  even  see  any  other  for  any  man. 

If  these  brief  notices  of  a  man  who  filled  a  wide  space  in  his  day,  and  in 
his  way,  shall  be  of  any  use  to  you,  I  shall  be  heartily  glad. 

Very  truly  yours, 

ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  FORSYTH,  D.  D. 

Newburgh,  N.  Y.,  March  25,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir:  In  the  spring  of  1845  I  bought  a  copy  of  White's  Diatessaron, 
at  a  sale  of  old  books  in  New  York,  which,  upon  examination,  I  found  had 
once  belonged  to  Dr.  Tuckerman,  of  Boston.  My  reasons  for  thinking  that  the 
volume  was  his  property  are  these: — His  name  is  written  upon  the  title  page 
— ««  Joseph  Tuckerman,  1806;"  and  upon  a  subsequent  vacant  page  a  manu- 
script note,  evidently  in  the  same  hand,  occurs,  signed  ««  J.  T."  It  is  dated 
«<  September,  1827."  I  need  hardly  say  to  you  that,  after  reading  the  note, 
the  volume  acquired  fresh  inteiest  and  value.     It  is  as  follows: — 

««  This  has  been  my  daily  manual.  It  has  been  to  me  for  light,  and  strength, 
and  solace,  and  peace.  When  at  home,  it  has  long  been  my  custom  to  read  it 
every  morning,  that  I  might  take  a  lesson  from  my  Master  before  I  went  to 
the  ordinary  duties  of  the  day;  and  when  I  have  travelled,  it  has  been  my 
guide  and  my  treasury  on  the  water  and  on  the  land.  With  this  narrative  of 
Jesus  in  my  hand,  I  have  felt  myself,  in  any  solitude,  to  be  blest  with  the  best 
society;  in  any  danger,  to  be  safe;  amidst  strangers,  to  have  with  me  the  best 
of  friends;  and  in  the  deepest  darkness  of  my  way,  to  be  always  secure,  while 
my  feet  were  in  the  way  of  his  commandments.  May  he  into  whose  hands 
this  little  book  shall  pass  at  my  death,  value  it  as  I  have  valued  it  !  I  hope 
that  I  can  say  truly  with  Paul, —  «  I  account  all  things  but  loss  for  the  excel- 
lency of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord.'  " 

As  I  understood  you  to  say  that  you  designed  to  include  in  your  <<  Annals  " 
a  sketch  of  Dr.  Tuckerman,  I  have  thought  that  the  above  note  might  possibly 
throw  some  light  upon  his  character,  and  therefore  have  copied  it  for  you  to 
make  such  use  of  as  you  may  think  proper. 

Very  affectionately  yours, 

JOHN  FORSYTH. 


WILLIAM    FROTHINGHAM.  357 


WILLIAM  FROTHINGHAM. 

1801  —  1852. 

FROM  THE   REV.  CAZNEAU  PALFREY,  D.  D. 

Belfast,  Me.,  February  23,  1864. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  cheerfully  comply  with  your  request  for  some  account 
of  the  Rev.  William  Frothingham,  though  my  personal  recollections  of  him 
have  respect  to  only  a  few  of  his  last  years.  What  I  am  about  to  commu- 
nicate is  drawn  partly  from  a  Sermon  that  I  preached  on  occasion  of  his 
death,  and  partly  from  the  recollections  of  some  of  his  family  who  still 
reside  in  this  place. 

William  Frotiiingham,  a  son  of  William  and  Mary  (Leathers)  Froth- 
ingham,  was  born  in  Cambridge,  Mass.,  March  11,  1777.  His  parents  died 
when  he  was  quite  young,  and  he  passed  his  early  years  chiefly  under  the 
care  of  his  paternal  grandparents,  who  lived  in  his  native  place.  After 
going  through  the  preparatory  course,  he  entered  Harvard  College  in  1795, 
and  graduated  in  1799,  being  contemporary  with  Channing,  Buckmin.>5ter, 
Tuckcrman,  Nichols  and  Lowell,  and  many  other  departed  worthies.  Of 
this  period  of  his  life  I  know  of  no  fact  worthy  of  record,  except  that  he 
cultivated  poetry,  and  on  two  occasions  was  called  to  deliver  poems  in  pub- 
lic. After  graduating,  he  kept  school,  successively  at  Lexington,  Water- 
town  and  Hinghara,  Mass.,  and  at  Blue  Hill  and  Belfast,  Me.  Under 
whose  instruction  he  prosecuted  his  theological  studies,  I  do  not  know, 
though  it  was  most  probably,  in  part  at  least,  under  Dr.  Tappan,  then  Pro- 
fessor of  Divinity  at  Cambridge.  He  was  licensed  to  preach  by  "  The  As- 
sociation of  ministers  in  and  about  Cambridge,"  at  a  meeting  held  at  New- 
ton, June  9,  1801.  In  1804  he  was  married  to  Lois  Barrett,  of  Concord; 
and  on  the  26th  of  September,  of  the  same  year,  was  ordained  Pastor  of 
the  Church  in  Saugus,  Mass.  In  that  place  he  struggled  with  the  difficul- 
ties of  an  incompetent  support  for  more  than  twelve  years,  when  he  felt 
constrained  to  resign  his  pastoral  charge — this  was  on  the  7th  of  May, 
1817.  In  November  following  he  came  to  this  place,  in  the  double  capa- 
city of  a  Teacher  and  a  Missionary  in  the  neighbourhood,  in  the  employment 
of  the  Evangelical  Missionary  Society.  The  town  had  then  been  some  time 
without  a  minister;  the  old  meeting-house  was  dilapidated  and  untenanta- 
ble ;  and  public  worship  was  attended  in  the  Academy.  In  the  mean  time 
it  was  resolved  to  erect  a  meeting-house.  At  a  legal  parish-meeting,  in 
April,  1818,  it  was  voted — one  individual  only  dissenting  —  to  give  the 
candidate  a  call  to  settle  among  them  as  their  Pastor  and  Religious  Teacher. 
The  church,  in  due  time,  unanimously  concurred  with  the  parish.  Mr. 
Frothingham  did  not,  however,  accept  the  call  lill  after  several  months, 
owing  to  the  dangerous  illness  of  his  wife  in  Concord,  Mass.  After  her 
decease,  which  occurred  in  the  spring  of  1819.  he  formally  accepted  the 
invitation  he  had  received,  and  returned  to  this  place.  Arrangements 
were  immediately  made  for  his  Installation.  On  the  day  of  the  Installation, 
the  church  having  reconsidered  their  previous  concurrence  in  the  proceed- 


358  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ings  of  the  parish,  decl'meJ  to  co-operate  in  his  settlement  on  the  ground 
of  his  refusal  to  subscribe  to  the  doctrine  of  a  Tri-personal  God,  as  ex- 
pressed in  their  creed.  This  secession  finally  resulted  in  the  formation 
of  a  new  parish.  The  Installation  took  place  on  tlie  21st  of  July,  1819. 
The  Sermon  on  tlie  occasion  was  by  Dr.  Ripley,  of  Concord ;  the 
Charge  by  Dr.  Allyn,  of  Duxbury  ;  the  Installing  Prayer  by  Mr.  Mason,* 
of  Castiue  ;  and  the  Right  Hand  of  Fellowship  by  Mr.  AVarren.t  of  Jack- 
son. 

On  the  12th  of  August  a  new  church  was  gathered  in  the  First  parish, 
consisting  of  eight  members,  including  its  Pastor,  to  whom  were  afterwards 
added,  during  the  twenty-seven  years  of  Mr.  Frothingham's  ministry, 
ninety-four;  making  in  alia  hundred  and  two  who  became  members 
during  that  period.  He  had  a  peaceful  and  successful  ministry.  In  June, 
1845,  in  consequence  of  the  state  of  his  health,  which  had  been  some  time 
declining,  his  pastoral  connection  with  the  church  and  parish  was  dissolved 
by  mutual  consent.  He  conlinueJ,  however,  to  supply  tlie  pulpit,  as  far 
as  he  was  able,  till  the  following  spring.  His  last  sermon  was  preached 
April  4,  1847.  He  prepared  a  Discourse  for  the  Fast  day,  which  occurred 
during  the  ensuing  week,  but  was  too  feeble  to  deliver  it,  and  was  never 
able,  during  the  remaining  years  of  his  life,  to  take  part  in  tlie  exercises 
of  the  pulpit.  The  faculties  of  his  mind,  however,  remained  unimpaired, 
and  he  was  able  to  take  constant  pleasure  in  his  favourite  occupation  of 
reading.  The  enjoyment  he  derived  from  this  source,  together  with  his 
Christian  equanimity,  fortitude  and  patience,  gave  to  the  retirement  of  his 
last  days  a  serene  and  tranquil  aspect.  He  died  on  the  24lh  of  June, 
1852. 

Mr.  Frothiugham  had,  by  his  first  marriage,  four  children, —  one  son 
and  three  daughters,  of  whom  one  daughter  only  is  now  living,  married 
and  resident  in  Augusta.  In  1821  he  was  married  to  Lydia,  daughter  of 
the  Rev.  Caleb  Prentiss,  of  Reading,  Mass.  By  this  marriage  there  were 
two  sons  and  two  daughters,  of  whom  the  two  daughters  only  survive. 

The  turn  of  Mr.  Frothingham's  mind  was  historical  and  literary  rather 
than  philosophical.  He  loved  to  talk  of  facts  and  of  books  rather  than  to 
discuss  principles  ;  and  preferred  to  select  from  his  extensive  reading  such 
opinions  as  seemed  to  him  most  rational  and  well  founded,  to  the  pursuit 
of  profound  independent  inquiries.  The  size  of  his  library,  compared  with 
his  means,  was  a  proof  of  his  love  of  books.  The  carefulness  with  which 
the  selection  was  made  showed  his  judgment  and  good  taste.  And  his 
conversation,  though  obstructed,  during  the  period  of  my  acquaintance 
with  him,  by  his  infirmities,  and  perhaps  always,  to  some  extent,  by  his 
natural  difBdence,  still  gave  indications  of  the  diligence  with  which  he  had 
read,  and  the  faithfulness  with  which  his  memory  had  retained  the  results 
of  his  reading.  In  the  days  of  his  activity  he  must  have  been  a  man  of 
great  industry,  methodical  in  all  his  arrangements,  conscientious  in  the 
application  of  all  his  energies  to  the  work  before  him.     The  constitutional 

•  William  Masox  was  born  in  Rowley,  Mass.,  November  19,  1764,  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College  in  1792;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Castine,  Me.,  in 
October,  179:5;  was  dismissed  in  April,  1834;  and  died  in  1847. 

f  Silas  Warren  was  a  nati%'e  of  Weston,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1795;  was  ordained  at  Jackson,  Me.,  in  September,  1812;  and  died  in  1856. 


WILLIAM    FROTHINGHAiM.  359 

diffidence  to  which  I  have  alluded,  kept  him  more  aloof  than  his  people 
desired  from  social  intercourse  with  them.  This  is  the  only  circumstance 
in  his  pastoral. life  concerning  which  I  have  ever  heard  any  of  them  ex[>re38 
a  regret.  And  that  very  regret  indicated  the  value  which  they  placed  on 
his  society.  They  made  just  allowance  for  his  peculiarity  in  this  respect. 
They  saw  that  it  proceeded  from  no  defect  of  feeling  or  want  of  interest  ia 
them.  Neither,  on  his  part,  did  it  chill  the  sallies  of  a  genial  humour,  of 
which  they  have  preserved  a  pleasant  remembrance,  nor  on  theirs'  did  it 
prevent  the  formation  of  a  solid  attachment. 

Mr.  Frothingham  entered  the  ministry  at  the  period  when  the  lines 
which  divide  Unitarians  from  other  denominations  were  beginning  to  be 
distinctly  drawn,  and  he  took  his  stand  on  the  Unitarian  side.  At  the 
same  time,  I  have  no  doubt  that  his  type  of  Unitarianism  was  the  nearest 
approach  to  Ortliodoxy  consistent  with  his  assuming  tlie  Unitarian  name. 
It  would  be  impossible  for  me  here  to  give  my  reasons  at  length  for  this 
opinion, —  except  indeed  this  one  fact,  which  he  told  nie  himself,  that,  at 
the  commencement  of  his  ministry,  he  had  serious  thoughts  of  entering  the 
Episcopal  Churcli.  His  opinions  must  have  been,  at  that  time,  sufficiently 
near  the  standard  of  that  Church  to  make  it  possible  to  satisfy  his  owu 
conscience,  and  the  authority  of  the  Church,  with  regard  to  his  fitness  for 
its  ministry.  It  is  not  likely  that  his  theological  position  was  ever  mate- 
rially altered  after  that  time.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  setting  him  down  a 
high  Arian. 

But  notwithstanding  he  was  installed  here  as  a  minister  of  the  Unitarian 
denomination,  he  was  little  disposed  for  controversy — it  was  his  nature  to 
follow  after  the  things  which  make  for  peace,  and  things  wherewith  one 
•may  edify  another.  He  chose  rather  to  dwell  upon  the  great  truths  that 
underlie  all  forms  of  Christian  belief,  and  constitute  the  common  Chris- 
tianity of  differing  sects.  His  preacdiiiig  was  practical  and  useful.  Though 
I  never  heard  one  of  his  pulpit  perfurniances.  I  believe  that  I  have  formed 
a  correct  idea  of  them  from  much  that  I  have  heard  about  them  from  his 
habitual  hearers  ;  and  I  think  I  express  their  common  sentiment  when  I 
say  that  his  sermons,  though  not  set  forth  with  imposing  oratory,  attracted 
and  rewarded  attention  ;  that  they  were  characterized  by  great  variety, 
both  in  the  selection  of  subjects  and  the  manner  in  which  they  were  illus- 
trated and  enforced.  That  they  were  listened  to  with  interest  I  have  the 
testimony  of  many  of  his  hearers  ;  that  they  were  faithfully  remembered  I 
have  proof  in  the  manner  in  which  I  have  heard  particular  discourses  alluded 
to  after  a  lapse  of  many  years. 

Mr.  Frothingham  did  not  confine  his  efforts  to  the  limits  of  his  own  par- 
ish and  the  immediate  duties  of  his  ministerial  office.  He  was  ever  ready 
to  do  good,  as  the  opportunity  offered,  in  the  community  in  which  he  dwelt.. 
At  the  period  when  ministers  in  this  region  were  few  and  wide  apart,  he; 
cheerfully  answered  the  calls  that  were  frequently  made  upon  him  to  go  tO' 
a  distance  from  home  to  render  ministerial  service,  voluntarily  assuming  a 
duty  which  could  be  claimed  of  him  only  on  the  general  ground  of  obliga- 
tion to  do  good  to  all  men  as  he  had  opportunity.  He  was  prompt  ta 
encourage  and  assist  all  enterprises  for  promoting  the  moral,  social  and 
intellectual  improvement  of  the  town.     When  popular  lectures  were,  many 


360  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

years  ago,  introduced,  he  was  among  the  first  to  engage  in  that  service. 
He  laboured  long  and  assiduously  iu  that  humble,  but  really  important, 
sphere  of  usefulness, — the  School  Committee  ;  and  freely  gave  his  time,  and 
ofiForts,  and  thoughts  to  the  duties  of  that  sphere,  when  those  labours  were 
purely  labours  of  love,  unrequited  by  any  other  compensation  than  the 
consciousness  of  having  done  good.  And  he  bequeathed  to  this  community 
the  legacy  of  his  example,  the  influence  of  his  long,  consistent  and  unim- 
peachable life.  He  saw  almost  this  whole  village  grow  up  around  him.  He 
went  in  and  out  before  a  whole  generation  of  this  people,  and  the  breath 
of  censure  never  touched  his  cliaracter —  one  uniform  testimony  is  borne  to 
the  purity  and  excellence  of  his  life. 

Witli  regard  to  his  personal  appearance,  I  am  able,  as  I  have  already 
intimated,  to  speak  of  him  only  as  he  was  after  he  had  become  quite  infirm. 
His  stature  was,  I  should  say,  somewhat  below  the  average  height  ;  thougli 
it  may  have  appeared  so  to  me,  in  part,  by  reason  of  his  being  then  bowed 
down  by  disease.  His  complexion  was  light  and  his  eye  of  a  clear  blue. 
His  voice  was  deeply  pitched,  but,  when  I  knew  him,  of  small  volume. 
His  countenance  had  an  anxious  and  distressed  expression,  probably  the 
effect  of  constant  asthma  ;  yet  about  his  mouth  there  still  remained  a 
decided  expression  of  the  humour  which  unquestionably  belonged  to  him, 
and  which  he  continued  occasionally  to  exhibit.  He  was  reserved  in  man- 
ner and  not  copious  in  conversation.  During  my  acquaintance  with  him 
indeed,  it  was  physically  difficult  for  him  to  talk,  but  the  universal  testi- 
mony of  all  who  knew  him  in  health  is,  that  he  was  retiring,  diffident  and 
silent  in  company. 

I  will  only  add  that,  at  his  settlement  here,  he  purchased,  at  a  low  price, 
a  small  fiirm  beyond  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  which  he  cultivated  with 
great  diligence  for  many  years, —  thus  eking  out  his  slender  means  of  sup- 
port,—  and  which  he  lived  to  see  come  into  demand  as  house-lots,  as  the 
town  increased.  Very  respectfully  yours, 

C.  PALFREY. 


WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNING,  D.  B.^ 

1802—1842. 

William  Elleey  Channing  was  the  third  child  of  William  and 
Lucy  (EUery)  Channing,  and  was  born  at  Newport,  R.  I.,  on  the  7th  of 
April,  1780.  His  mother,  a  lady  of  uncommon  strength  and  excellence  of 
character,  was  the  daughter  of  William  EUery,  who  graduated  at  Harvard 
College  in  1747,  and  was  afterwards  a  distinguished  patriot  in  the  Ameri- 
can Revolution,  and  a  signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  His 
father,  distinguished  alike  for  his  intellectual  and  moral  qualities,  was 
graduated  at  the  College  of  New  Jersey  in  1769,  and  subsequently  set- 
tled as  a  lawyer  in  Newport,  his  native  place;  in  1777  he  became  Attorney 

•  Memoir  by  William  Henry  Channing. 


WILLIAM   ELLERY    CHANNING.  361 

General  of  the  State,  and.  upon  tlie  adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution, 
was  appointed  to  the  office  of  District  Attorney  for  the  District  of  Rhode 
Ishirid. 

The  subject  of  this  notice  was  sent  to  school,  while  he  was  yet  so  young 
that  he  was  often  carried  in  the  arms  of  a  coloured  man.  After  having 
been  under  the  care  successively  of  two  or  three  female  teachers,  ho 
entered  an  excellent  school  taught  by  a  Mr.  Rogers,  in  which  he  made 
rapid  improvement.  His  boyhood  was  distinguislied  for  great  consideration, 
conscientiousness  and  delicacy  of  feeling,  as  well  as  for  an  original  turn  of 
thought  and  an  independent  spirit  of  inquiry. 

At  the  age  of  twelve  he  was  sent  to  New  London  to  prepare  for  Col- 
lege. Here  he  resided  with  his  uncle,  the  Rev.  Henry  Channing,*  then 
the  minister  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  that  place,  and  attended  a 
school  taught  by  Mr.  (afterwards  Rev.  Dr.)  Seth  Williston.  It  was  dur- 
ing his  residence  here  (September  21,  1793)  that  his  father  died.  He  was 
sent  for  to  attend  the  Funeral,  and  the  event  seems  to  have  left  upon  his 
mind  an  impression  of  considerable  seriousness.  About  this  time,  a  revival 
of  religion  took  pbice  in  his  uncle's  congregation,  in  which  his  biographer 
informs  us  that  '*  the  mind  ot"  William  received  such  deep  and  lasting  im- 
pressions, that  he  (bited  back  to  that  period  the  commencement  of  a 
decidedly  religious  life."  Mr.  Williston,  his  instructor,  renders  the  fol- 
lowing testimony  concerning  him  at  this  period  : — "  His  scholarship  was 
goo'l  ;  his  attention  to  the  rules  of  the  school  was  very  exemplary;  and  all 
his  deportment,  so  far  as  it  came  under  my  observation  or  within  my  kuow- 

*  Henry  Cuanning,  a  son  of  John  and  Mary  Channing,  was  a  native  of  Newport,  R.  I. 
lie  was  graduated  at  Yale  College  in  1781,  where  also  he  was  a  Tutor  from  ITSo  to  178fi.  In 
this  latter  year  a  j'oung  Indian  girl,  of  Pequot  origin,  living  in  a  family  within  the  bounds 
of  New  London,  had  been  convicted  of  the  murder  of  a  white  child,  the  little  daughter  of  a 
neighbour,  in  revenge  for  some  petty  olfence.  The  crime  was  attended  with  such  fearfully 
aggravating  circumstances  that,  notwithstanding  the  criminal  was  less  than  thirteen  years  of 
age,  she  was  condemned  to  suffer  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law.  The  execution  was  to 
take  place  on  the  20th  of  December,  and  applicaiion  being  made  to  President  Stiles,  of  Yale 
College,  to  designate  some  one  to  preach  on  the  occasion,  he  recommended,  as  a  suitable  per- 
son, Mr.  Oluinning,  then  a  Tutor  in  College,  and  a  licensed  preacher.  He  consented  to  per- 
form tne  service,  and  deliveretl  the  cjermon  to  an  immense  throng  of  people,  many  of  whom 
Were  completely  overpowered,  and  some  of  them,  it  was  hoped,  savingly  benefitted,  by  the 
effort.  The  result  was  that  Mr.  Channing  was  immediately  called  to  become  Pastor  of  the 
Congregational  Church  in  New  London,  then  in  a  feeble  and  broken  condition;  and,  having 
accepted  the  call,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  17th  of  Ma}',  1787, —  President  Stiles 
preaching  the  Sermon.  A  revival  of  religion  commenced  with  his  ministry,  and  continued 
nearly  two  years,  during  which  eighty  persons  were  received  to  the  Communion  of  the  Church. 
Though  no  suspicion  existed  of  Mr.  Channing  being  a  Unitarian,  at-  the  time  of  his  settle- 
ment, or  for  several  years  after,  circumstances  have  since  seemed  to  render  it  probable  that 
his  mind  was  at  least  moving  in  that  direction,  even  from  the  commencement  of  his  ministry. 
He  was  dismissed  by  a  Mutual  Council,  called  at  his  own  request,  on  the  20th  of  May,  1806. 
He  left  New  Loudon  almost  immediately,  and  never  afterward  entered  a  pulpit  or  preached 
a  sermon  in  the  place.  In  January,  18U8,  he  was  called  to  the  Congregational  Church  in 
Canandaigua,  N.  Y.,  and  accepted  the  call,  and,  without  any  formal  Installation,  entered  on 
the  duties  of  his  ofiBce  in  the  following  June.  Here  he  continued  till  May,  1811,  when  he 
resigned  his  charge.  His  preaching,  during  this  period,  was  never  distinctively  Unitarian, 
and  indeed  little  was  known  of  Unitarianism,  at  least  in  that  part  of  the  country.  In  1817 
he  returned  to  New  London,  and,  in  the  two  following  years  was  a  member  of  the  Legis- 
lature of  Connecticut,  and  was  a  vigorous  supporter  of  what  was  then  known  as  "  the  tolera- 
tion ticket."  After  remaing  in  New  London  two  or  three  years,  he  went  to  New  York,  and 
lived  with  his  son,  then  a  practising  physician  in  the  city.  He  died  in  New  York,  in  the 
year  1840,  at  the  age  of  eighty  years.  He  was  married,  on  the  6th  of  September,  1793,  to 
Sally  McCurdy,  of  Lyme,  who  died  on  the  25th  of  September,  1811,  the  mother  of  nine  child- 
ren. Mr.  Channing  published  a  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Execution  of  Hannah  Occuish,  1786, 
and  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon,  1794.  For  the  facts  contained  in  this  note,  I  am  indebted  to  the 
Rev.  Joseph  Hurlbut,  and  Miss  F.  M.  Caulkins,  of  New  London,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Daggett, 
of  Canandaigua. 


362  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ledge,  was  peculiarly  aiiiialile.  Ilis  features  were  then  comely,  his  couute- 
Duiice  placid,  and  his  mind, —  the  more  important  part,  seemed  to  take  ti 
serious  turn,  beyond  what  is  common  to  boys  of  his  age." 

From  New  London  he  went  to  Cambridge,  where  he  entered  Harvard 
College  as  Freshman,  in  1794,  being  then  in  his  fifteenth  year.  Thruiigh- 
out  his  whole  college  course  he  distinguished  himself  as  a  scholar,  and 
was  regarded  as  one  of  the  brightest  lights  in  the  generation  of  students 
to  which  he  belonged.  Upon  the  occasion  of  his  graduation,  the  first 
honour,  the  English  Oration,  was  assigned  to  him  ;  but,  as  the  Faculty  of 
tlie -College  had  forbidden  the  introduction  of  political  questions  into  the 
exercises  of  Commencement  Day,  he  declined  to  speak  under  this  restric- 
tion. A  subsequent  interview  with  the  President,  however,  so  mudiQed 
the  case,  that  he  determined  to  fulfil  the  appointment,  and  he  did  it  in  a 
manner  that  evinced  great  independence  as  well  as  brilliancy,  and  drew 
from  (he  audience  the  most  tumultuous  shouts  of  applause. 

From  Cambridge  he  returned  to  his  mother  in  Newport,  without  having 
yet  formed  any  definite  plan  in  respect  to  the  future.  He  seems,  however, 
to  have  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  devote  himself  to  the  Christian 
ministry  ;  and.  not  having  the  means  of  supporting  himself  while  engaged 
in  the  study  of  Theology,  he  accepted  an  invitation  from  David  Meade 
llunilolph,  of  Richmond,  Va.,  then  on  a  visit  at  Newport,  to  take  the 
})lace  of  tutor  in  his  familj'.  Accordingly,  in  the  autumn  of  1798,  he 
went  to  the  South  to  meet  this  engagement.  Here  he  found  much  to 
interest  and  gratify  him,  though  he  seems  to  have  been  very  painfully  im- 
pressed by  the  institution  of  Slavery,  and  in  one  of  his  letters  he  declares 
that  this  alone  would  prevent  him  from  ever  settling  in  Virginia.  During 
his  residence  here  he  was  very  earnestly  engaged  in  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  his  mind  seems  to  have  taken  on  a  much  deeper  tone  of 
Seriousness  than  it  had  ever  had  before.  In  a  letter,  addressed  to  his 
uncle,  after  giving  an  account  of  the  prevalence  of  infidelity  and  the  low 
state  of  religion  in  the  community  in  which  he  lived,  he  writes  thus: — 

'■■  I  will  go  farther,  Sir — I  believe  that  I  never  experienced  that  change  of  heart  uliich 
is  ueces.sary  to  constitute  a  Christian,  till  within  a  i'^iw  months  past.  The  worldling 
would  laugh  at  nic  ;  he  would  call  conversion  a  farce.  But  the  man  who  has  I'elt  the 
intiuences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  can  oppose  fact  and  experience  to  empty  declamation 
and  contemptuous  sneers.  You  remember  the  language  of  the  blind  man  whom  Jesus 
healed — '•  This  I  know,  tliat  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see."  Such  is  the  hmgnage 
which  the  real  Christian  may  truly  utter.  Once,  and  not  long  ago,  I  was  blind,  blind 
to  my  own  condition,  blind  to  the  goodness  of  God,  and  blind  to  the  love  of  uiy  Re- 
deemer. Now  I  behold  with  shame  and  confusion  the  depravity  and  rottenness  of  my 
heart.  Now  I  behold  with  love  and  admiration  the  long-suffering  and  infinite  benevo- 
lence of  Deity. 

'' All  my  sentiments  and  affections  have  lately  changed.  I  once  considered  mere 
moral  attainments  as  the  only  object  I  had  to  i)ursue.  I  have  now  solemnly  given 
myself  up  to  God.  I  consider  supreme  love  to  llim  as  the  first  of  all  duties,  and  mor- 
ality seems  but  a  branch  from  the  vigorous  root  of  religion.  I  love  mankind  because 
they  are  the  children  of  God.  I  practise  tem])erance  aud  strive  for  purity  of  heart, 
that  I  may  become  a  temple  for  liis  Holy  Spirit  to  dwell  in.  I  long  most  earnestly  to 
be  such  a  minister  as  Fenelon  describes.  Religion  is  the  only  treasure  worth  pursuing. 
I  consider  the  man  who  recommends  it  to  society  as  more  useful  than  the  greatest  sago 
and  patriot  who  adorns  the  page  of  history.  What  liberty  so  valuable  as  liberty  of 
heart,  freedom  from  sin  ?" 

Mr.  Channing  remained  at  the  South  about  a  year  and  a  half,  and,  dur- 
ing this  time,  owing  partly  to  his  intense  application  to  study  in  connection 


WILLIAM    ELLERY    CHANNING.  363 

with  his  duties  as  a  teacher,  and  partly  to  the  severity  of  his  inward  con- 
flicts, he  lost  his  health,  and  was  reduced  to  the  mere  shadow  of  a  man. 
He  returned  to  Newport  in  July,  1800.  The  vessel  in  whi.oh  he  sailed, 
Was  damp  and  leaky,  and  manned  by  a  drunken  captain  and  crew.  They 
ran  upon  a  shoal,  and  were  obliged  to  lie  there  till  the  tide  fortunately 
lifted  them  off.  When  Mr.  Chanuing  left  home  he  was  hale  and  vigorous, 
but,  when  he  returned,  his  friends  were  shocked  to  find  that  he  was  little 
more  tlian  a  moving  skeleton.  From  this  time  his  life  was  a  perpetual  con- 
flict with  physical  derangement  and  infirmity. 

He  remained  at  Newport  a  year  and  a  half,  pursuing  his  studies,  and 
having  for  his  pupils  a  son  of  Mr.  Randolph,  and  his  own  youngest  brother. 
He  became  acquainted,  at  this  time,  witli  the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins, 
to  whose  character  he,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  paid  a  respectful  and 
grateful  tribute. 

In  the  beginning  of  1802  he  removed  to  Cambridge,  having  accepted  the 
office  of  Regent  in  the  College;  the  duties  of  which  were  so  light  as  to 
interfere  but  little  with  the  prosecution  of  his  theological  studies.  Hero 
he  became  connected  with  the  First  Congregational  Church,  whose  Pastor, 
the  Rev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Abiel  Holmes,  had  the  reputation  of  being  a 
moderate  Calvinist.  He  was  licensed  to  preach  in  the  autumn  of  1802,  it 
is  believed  by  the  Cambridge  Association.  His  theological  views  at  that 
time  were  probably  not  very  well  defined,  though  it  would  seem,  from  the 
following  statement  made  by  him  at  a  later  period  in  life,  that  he  was  not 
a  Trinitarian  : — 

"  There  was  a  time  when  I  verged  towards  Calvinism  :  for  ill  health  and  depres- 
sion gave  nie  a  dark  view  of  things.  But  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  held  me  hack. 
When  I  wns  studying  my  ])rofessi()n.  and  religion  was  the  suhject  of  deepest  personal 
concern  with  me.  I  fullowed  Doddridge  through  his  "  Rise  and  Progress,"  till  lie 
brought  me  to  a  prayer  to  .Jesus  Christ.  There  I  stopped  and  wrote  to  a  friend  that 
my  spiritual  guide  was  gone  where  I  could  not  follow  him.  I  was  never  in  any  sense 
a  Trinitarian." 

;Mr.  Channing's  first  efforts  in  the  pulpit  attracted  great  attention.  The 
Churches  in  Brattle  Street  and  Federal  Street,  Boston,  were  each  desirous 
to  avail  themselves  of  his  services,  and  were  making  arrangements  to 
secure  them  ;  but  while  the  forn)er  were  only  asking  him  to  preach  as  a 
candidate,  the^latter  actually  presented  to  him  a  call,  which,  in  view  of  all 
the  circumstances,  he  thought  proper  to  accept.  He  was,  accordingly, 
ordained,  and  installed  minister  of  the  Federal  Street  Church,  on  the  1st 
of  June,  1803, —  the  Rev.  Dr.  Tappan,  Professor  in  Harvard  College, 
preaching  the  Sermon,  and  his  uncle,  the  Rev.  Henry  Channing,  of  New 
London,  delivering  the  Charge. 

Mr.  Channing,  though  never  what  could  be  called  a  preacher  of  Polities, 
always  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  as  well  as  in  the 
triumph  of  liberal  principles  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  In  the  War  of 
1812-1815  between  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain,  his  sympathies 
were  decidedly  with  the  Federal  party,  as  was  indicated  by  two  Sermons 
preached  on  the  occasion  of  the  National  and  State  Fasts,  both  of  which 
were  published.  In  1814  he  delivered  a  Discourse,  in  the  Stone  Chapel, 
on  the  Fall  of  Buonaparte,  which  may  probably  be  reckoned  among  the 
most  splendid  of  all  his  efforts  in  the  pulpit. 


364  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  1815  the  Unitarian  controversy  formally  commenced  in  the  publica- 
tion, first  in  the  Panoplist  and  then  in  a  distinct  pamphlet,  of  an  article 
extracted  from  Belsham's  Life  of  Lindsey,  and  entitled  "American  Uni- 
tarianism."  Dr.  Channing  immediately  addressed  a  Letter  to  the  llev. 
Samuel  Cooper  Thacher,  deploring  the  publication  of  what  he  deemed  so 
unworthy  a  representation  of  the  views  of  the  Boston  Clergy.  This  brought 
a  Letter  to  him,  on  the  controverted  points,  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Worcester, 
of  Salem,  to  which  he  replied;  as  he  did  also  to  a  second  Letter  from  Dr. 
W. ;  and  then,  for  the  time  being,  retired  from  the  controversy.  In  1819, 
he  delivered  a  Discourse  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Jared  Sparks,  in  Balti- 
more, which  marked  an  important  epoch  in  the  history  of  Unitarianism  ia 
this  country;  as  it  led  to  a  controversy  in  which  was  enlisted,  on  both 
sides,  a  very  high  degree  of  ability.  In  1826  he  preached  a  Sernion  at 
the  Opening  of  the  new  Unitarian  Church  in  New  York,  of  a  very  decisive 
and  earnest  tone,  which  was  published,  and  which  is  believed  to  have  been 
the  last  of  his  decidedly  controversial  public  efforts. 

In  1814  Mr.  Channing  was  married  to  his  cousin,  Ruth  Gibbs,  of  New- 
port. About  this  time  commenced  his  summer  visits  to  Rhode  Island, 
where  Mrs.  Gibbs,  his  motlier-in-law,  who  resided  in  Boston  during  the 
winter,  retained  a  country-seat.  He  became  the  father  of  four  children, 
one  of  whom,  the  first  born,  died  in  infancy. 

In  1820  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

In  1822  his  Society  and  friends  urged  him  to  rest  for  a  year  from 
his  labours;  and,  at  their  suggestion,  he  sailed,  in  May  of  that  year, 
accompanied  by  his  wife,  for  England.  Here  he  made  many  valuable 
acquaintances,  among  whom  were  Wordswortli  and  Coleridge,  both  of 
whom  afterwards  expressed  high  admiration  of  his  character,  wliile  he  was 
no  less  delighted  with  them.  From  England  he  passed  into  France,  and 
thence  through  Switzerland  into  Italy.  At  lluuie  he  was  met  with  the 
tidings  of  the  death  of  his  youngest  son,  and  also  of  a  sister-in-law  to 
whom  he  was  greatly  attached.  He  reached  home  in  the  fall  of  1823,  and 
resumed  his  ministerial  duties  with  increased  alacrity  and  ardour. 

Dr.  Channing  did  not,  however,  experience  all  the  advantage  from  his 
tour  that  his  friends  had  fondly  anticipated.  He  had  scarcely  re-com- 
menced his  labours  before  it  became  manifest  that  he  was  tasking  his  ener- 
gies beyond  what  they  could  long  endure.  Accordingly,  in  the  spring  of 
1824,  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Gannett  became  associated  with  him  in  the  pastoral 
charge.  In  consequence  of  this  arrangement.  Dr.  Channing  relinquished 
a  portion  of  his  salary,  and,  from  time  to  time,  as  he  saw  how  the  duties  of 
his  colleague  multiplied,  he  gave  up  the  remainder,  "until  the  pecuniary 
tie  between  himself  and  his  congregation  became  almost  nominal." 

Dr.  Channing,  besides  attracting  great  attention  by  his  occasional  dis- 
courses and  other  contributions  to  our  literature,  was  identified  witli  many 
of  the  prominent  benevolent  projects  of  the  day.  He  took  a  deep  interest 
in  the  Temperance  Reform,  and  delivered  an  Address,  in  1837,  before  the 
Massachusetts  Temperance  Society,  in  which  he  discusses  the  causes  and 
remedies  of  Intemperance  with  great  ability.  He  rendered  important  aid 
to  his  friend,  Dr.  Tuckerman,  iu  the  establishment  of  the  Ministry  for  the 


WILLIAM   ELLERY   CHANNING.  365 

Poor.  The  cause  of  Prison  Discipline,  also,  had  his  hearty  sympathy,  and 
as  much  of  his  attention  as  he  was  able  to  bestow  upon  it.  In  1838  and 
1840  he  delivered  Lectures  on  Self-culture  and  on  the  Elevation  of  the 
labouring  classes,  which  were  republished  and  gained  a  wide  circulation  in 
England. 

Dr.  Channing  sympathized  strongly  with  the  Anti-slavery  movetnent. 
As  early  as  1828  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in  England,  expressing  his  deep 
interest  in  the  subject,  and  his  earnest  desire  that  some  plan  might  be 
devised  by  which  the  slaves  in  this  country  should  be  emancipated.  In  the 
autumn  of  1830  he  sailed  for  Santa  Cruz  for  the  benefit  of  his  health,  and 
remained  there  until  May  of  the  next  year.  Here  he  saw  much  to  cunfirm 
his  previous  impressions  in  respect  to  Slavery,  and  on  his  return  manifested 
a  strong  desire  that  something  should  be  done  to  arouse  the  public  mind 
on  the  subject.  While  in  the  West  Indies  he  commenced  a  work  on 
Slavery  which  was  not  published  until  1835.  In  1837  he  published  a 
Letter  on  the  threatened  Annexation  of  Texas,  addressed  to  Henry  Clay. 
In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  he  was  instrumental  of  procuring  a  public 
meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall,  to  bear  testimony  against  what  he  considered  a 
gross  outrage  upon  all  freedom  of  thought,  in  the  shooting  down  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Lovejoy,*  at  Alton,  while  defending  the  building  containing  his 
press  which  was  devoted  to  Anti-slavery.  But,  while  his  mind  dwelt  with 
perhaps  greater  intensity  on  this  subject  than  almost  any  other,  he  declared 
his  disapprobation  of  all  extreme  measures,  and  relied  upon  the  power  of 
argument  and  persuasion  rather  than  reproachful  epithets  or  violent  deal- 
ing. 

In  the  summer  of  1842  Dr.  Channing  went  to  pass  a  few  weeks  at 
Lenox,  Mass.,  to  enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  season  and  the  country,  and  the 
warm  greetings  of  a  circle  of  intelligent  and  affectionate  friends.  While 
here,   he  made  his  last  public  effort    in   the    delivery  of  his  well   known 

*  Elijah  Parish  Lovejoy  was  born  in  Albion,  Me.,  on  the  9th  of  November,  1802.  His 
father  was  the  Rev.  Daniel  Lovejoy,  who,  after  passing  his  early  years  in  the  forests  of  Maine, 
became  a  resident  in  the  family  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Parish,  of  Byfield,  Mass.,  and  in  the  Academy 
at  that  place  received  his  literary  training  for  the  ministry.  He  was  ordained  as  an  Evangel- 
ist in  1805;  laboured  aa  a  missionary  in  different  parts  of  Maine  until  1818,  when  he  was 
installed  as  Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Robbinston,  Me.,  but  resigned  his  charge  the  next  year. 
He  continued  in  the  active  duties  of  the  ministry  until  his  death,  which  occurred  August  11, 
1833,  at  the  age  of  fifty-eight.  The  son,  having  fitted  for  College,  partly  at  the  Monmouth 
Academy,  and  partly  at  the  China  Academy,  entered  the  Sophomore  class  in  Waterville  Col- 
lege in  1823,  and  graduated  in  1826.  The  next  year  he  went  to  the  West,  and  engaged  in 
teaching  a  school  in  St.  Louis,  Mo.;  but,  after  a  short  time,  became  the  editor  of  a  news- 
paper, with  flattering  prospects  of  political  elevation.  Early  in  1832  his  mind  underwent  an 
important  change  on  the  subject  of  religion,  in  consequence  of  which  he  resolved  to  devote 
himself  to  the  ministry.  Accordingly,  he  joined  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Princeton,  and, 
after  remaining  there  a  little  more  than  a  year,  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Second  Pres- 
bytery of  Philadelphia,  in  April,  1833.  After  passing  the  summer  following  in  preaching, 
partly  at  Newport,  R.  I.  and  partly  as  a  supply  at  Spring  Street  Church,  New  York,  he 
returned  to  St.  Louis  in  the  fall,  by  request  of  some  of  his  Christian  friends,  to  become  the 
editor  of  a  religious  weekly  paper.  The  first  number  of  this  paper,  entitled  the  "  St.  Louis 
Observer,"  was  published  on  the  22d  of  November,  1833.  Having  become  deeply  convinced 
of  the  sinfulness  of  the  institution  of  Slavery,  he  felt  constrained  to  make  an  honest  exposition 
of  his  views  in  relation  to  it,  which  called  forth  an  earnest  remonstrance  from  his  patrons. 
Not  being  willing  to  yield  the  right  of  giving  expression  to  his  own  views,  and  finding  it  diffi- 
cult or  impossible  to  exercise  that  right  in  St.  Louis,  he  removed  with  his  paper  to  Alton. 
But  here  his  press  was  twice  destroyed  by  mobs;  and  on  the  third  attack  he  was  shot,  while 
defending  his  property  against  a  company  of  desperadoes.  This  horrible  event  took  place  on 
the  7th  of  November,  1837.  He  was  married,  March  4,  1835,  to  Celia  Ann  French,  of  St. 
Charles,  Mo.  Shortly  after  his  death,  there  appeared  a  Memoir  of  him,  written  by  two  of  hia 
brothers,  with  an  Introduction  by  John  Quincy  Adams. 


366  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Atldress  on  West  India  Emancipation.  He  left  Lenox  in  September, 
intending  to  return  through  tlie  passes  of  the  Green  Mountains,  but  was 
attacked  at  Bennington  bj  a  fever,  which,  after  a  little  more  than  three 
weeks,  terminated  his  life.  His  family  and  near  relatives  hastened  to  bim 
as  soon  as  they  heard  of  his  illness,  but  it  was  only  to  see  him  languish 
and  die.  On  Sunday,  October  2d,  the  last  day  of  his  life,  he  listened  to  a 
portion  of  Scripture  containing  some  of  the  words  of  Jesus,  with  great 
apparent  satisfaction.  "In  the  afternoon,"  says  one  who  was  watching  at 
his  bedside,  "  he  spoke  very  earnestly,  but  in  a  hollow  whisper.  I  bent 
forward,  but  the  only  words  I  could  distinctly  hear  were, —  '  I  have 
received  many  messages  from  the  Spirit.'  As  the  day  declined,  his  coun- 
tenance fell,  and  he  grew  fainter  and  fainter.  With  our  aid,  he  turned 
liimself  towards  the  window,  wliich  looked  over  valleys  and  wooded  sum- 
mits to  the  East.  We  drew  back  the  curtains,  and  the  light  fell  upon  his 
face.  The  sun  had  just  set,  and  the  clouds  and  sky  were  bright  with  gold 
and  crimson.  He  breathed  more  and  more  gently,  and,  without  a  struggle 
or  a  sigh,  the  body  fell  asleep.      We  knew  not  when  the  spirit  passed." 

The  body  was  immediately  conveyed  by  the  family  to  Boston,  and,  on 
the  afternoon  of  Friday,  October  7th,  his  Funeral  was  attended  at  the 
Federal  Street  Church,  and  a  Discourse  delivered  on  the  occasion  by  the 
Eev.  Dr.  Gannett.  The  burial  took  place  the  same  evening  at  Mount 
Auburn. 

Dr.  Channing's  published  works  are  contained  in  six  duodecimo  volumes, 
with  the  exception  of  the  following,  which  have  appeared  entire  only  in 
pamphlet  form  : — 

A  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  John  Codman,  Dorchester, 
1808.  A  Sermon  preached  in  Boston,  on  the  Day  of  the  Public  Fast, 
1810.  A  Sermon  preached  in  Boston  on  the  Day  of  the  Public  Fast, 
appointed  by  the  Executive  of  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  in 
consequence  of  the  Declaration  of  War  against  Great  Britain,  1812.  A 
Sermon  preached  in  Boston  on  the  Day  of  Humiliation  and  Prayer, 
appointed  by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  in  consequence  of  the 
Declaration  of  War  against  Great  Britain,  1812,  Two  Sermons  on  Infi- 
delity, 1813.  A  Discourse  delivered  in  Boston,  at  the  Solemn  Festival,  in 
commemoration  of  the  Goodness  of  God  in  delivering  the  Christian  World 
from  Military  Despotism,  1814.  A  Sermon  on  the  State  of  the  Country, 
delivered  in  Boston,  1814.  A  Letter  to  the  Rev,  Samuel  C.  Thacher,  on 
the  Aspersions  contained  in  a  Late  Number  of  the  Panoplist,  on  the  Minis- 
ters of  Boston  and  the  Vicinity,  181.5.  Remarks  on  tlie  Rev.  Dr.  Wor- 
cester's Letter  to  Mr.  Channing  on  the  "Review  of  American  Unitarian- 
ism,"  in  a  late  Panoplist,  1815.  Remarks  on  the  Rev.  Dr.  Worcester's 
Second  Letter  to  Mr,  Channing  on  American  Unitarianism,  1815,  Reli- 
gion a  Social  Principle:   A  Sermon  delivered  in  Boston,  1820. 

In  addition  to  the  above.  Dr.  Channing  wrote  all  the  Reports  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bible  Society  from  1812  to  1820,  with  a  single  exception, 
together  with  some  other  less  extended  occasional  Reports,  and  was  a  lib- 
eral contributor  to  the  Christian  Disciple,  while  it  was  under  the  editorial 
charge  of  Dr.  Noah  Worcester. 

Of  Dr.  Channing's  views  of  Christian  doctrine   I  do  not  feel   myself 


WILLIAM   ELLERY    CHANNING.  367 

competent  to  testify,  other  tlian  by  presenting  a  few  extracts  from  Lis 
writings  at  different  periods  of  his  ministry.  The  extracts  have  been  sub- 
mitted to  a  prominent  Unitarian  clergyman,  who  has  expressed  the  opinion 
that  they  form  as  faithful  a  representation  of  Dr.  C's  religious  views  as 
can  be  condensed  within  a  few  paragraphs. 

Tiie  following  is  from  a  Sermon  on  Ministerial  Earnestness,  preached  at 
the  Ordination  of  John  CoJman,  at  Dorchester,  in  December,  1808  : — 

"  Fourtlily,  as  another  most  solemn  incitement  to  earnestness,  let  a  minister  con- 
sider tiie  dangerous  circninstuiices  of  his  j)e(ipie.  To  whom  is  lie  sent  to  preacii  1 
To  men  of  upriglit  hearts,  disposed  to  receive  and  obey  the  truth  wliich  guides  to 
Heaven?  To  men  before  wlioni  tlie  future  is  arrayed  in  liglit,  and  who  are  surrounded 
only  with  objects  friendly  to  peace  and  improvement  ?  Ati  no  !  He  is  called  to  guide 
a  wandering  flock  through  a  thorny  rugged  wilderness,  beset  with  snares  and  beasts 
of  prey,  and,  on  this  side  and  on  that,  terminated  by  abrupt  and  hidden  precipices. 
He  is  sent  to  a  world  of  sinners,  in  whose  hearts  lurk  idolatry,  sensuality,  pride  and 
every  corruption.  He  is  sent  to  many  who  are  bound  in  fetters  of  iron  and  are  j)er- 
isiiing  with  the  most  loathsome  diseases.  He  is  indeed  sent  with  balm  for  their  wounds, 
with  light  and  hope  and  consolation.  But  there  are  those,  and  sometimes  not  a  ihw, 
who  turn  away  from  the  proffered  aid.  Even  among  the  decent  and  regular,  he  sees 
his  most  solemn  instructions  crowded  out  of  the  mind,  and  the  most  hopeful  impres- 
sions worn  away,  by  the  cares  and  pleasures  of  the  world.  He  sees  immortal  beings, 
committed  to  his  care,  advancing  with  rapid  steps  to  the  brink  of  an  abyss,  from  which 
they  are  never  to  arise,  and  can  he  be  unconcerned?  Can  he  read  of  that  fire  which 
is  never  quenched,  of  that  worm  which  never  dies,  and  yet  see  without  emotion  fel- 
low-beings, with  whom  he  sustains  the  tenderest  connections,  hastening  forward  to  this 
indescribable  ruin?  My  Christian  brethren,  when  we  look  on  the  people  of  our  charge, 
can  we  hope  that  every  .soul  is  safe,  that  the  sigh  of  acceptable  penitence  has  ascended 
from  every  heart?  Are  none  living  without  God?  And  is  it  not  a  thouglit  unutterably 
alleciing,  that  these  are  all  trembling  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  that  soon,  very  soon, 
one  or  another  will  be  forever  removed  from  the  reach  of  our  warning  voice,  to  receive 
an  irreversible  sentence  from  the  righteous  Judge  ?  Negligent  minister,  look  forward 
to  the  tribunal  of  God  Behold  a  human  being  there  condemned,  whom  thy  neglect  has 
helped  to  destroy.  In  that  countenance  of  anguish  and  despair,  which  might  have 
beamed  with  alfthe  light  and  i)urity  of  heaven;  in  that  voice  of  weeping  and  wailing, 
which  might  have  sung  the  sweet  and  hapjjy  strains  of  angels,  see  and  hear  the  ruin 
which  thou  hast  made:  and  canst  thou  yet  be  slothful  and  unconcerned? 

•  •••*••••*• 

*  *  *  Lastly,  let  the  minister  of  Christ  be  excited  to  an  earnest  and  affectionate 
discharge  of  his  duties  by  the  consideration  that  his  own  eternal  interests  are  involved 
in  it.  A  minister  has  a  soul  to  save  as  well  as  his  people.  Like  them,  he  is  spending 
life  in  the  presence  of  his  Judge.  Like  them,  he  has  a  work  assigned,  an  account  to 
render,  a  probation  on  which  eternity  depends.  Soon  his  pastoral  relation  will  be  dis- 
solved, his  period- of  usefulnes.s  be  closed,  and  he  must  meet  the  Chief  Shepherd  the 
Head  of  the  Church,  to  answer  for  the  trust  assigned  him.  Of  all  men  a  cold  negligent 
minister  has  the  darkest  prospects.  It  is  the  whole  tendency  of  his  life  to  form  him  to 
peculiar  blindness  and  hardness  of  heart.  By  repeating  often,  with  hypocritical  formality, 
the  tenderest  expressions  and  the  most  animating  motives,  his  conscience  becomes  pecu- 
liarly seared.  The  most  alarming  threatenings  become  too  familiar  to  move  him.  With 
moral  feelings  thus  dei)raved,  that  decency  of  life  to  which  his  profession  almost  compels 
him,  easily  passes  with  him  for  true  religion.  He  dies,  as  he  lived,  self  deceived.  Need  I 
describe  to  you  his  anguisli  on  that  day,  which  will  i)rove  him  a  false,  heartless  minister 
of  Jesus  Christ,  which  shall  discover  to  him  many  souls  lost  through  his  neglect;  in  which 
the  searching  eyes  of  Jesus  shall  be  fi.xed  on  him  with  righteous  indignation  ;  in  which  ho 
shad  hear  the  voice  of  the  Saviour  saying  to  him, — '  Behold  the  inestimable  souls  for 
which  my  blood  was  shed,  which  I  committed  to  your  care,  but  which  your  negligence 
has  helped  to  destroy.  Depart  with  them  far  from  me  into  everla.sting  fire.'  O  scene 
of  agony  !  Let  us,  my  friends,  hold  it  to  our  minds  till  it  shall  have  exerted  its  full 
power  ;  and  then  let  us  turn  for  relief  to  a  brighter  prospect.  Contemplate  the  char- 
acter and  rewards  of  the  faithful  minister  of  the  Gospel.  The  affectionate  pious  la- 
bours in  which  he  is  daily  engaged  have  a  peculiarly  ameliorating  influence  on  his 
heart,  by  continually  awakening  the  sentiments  of  kindness  and  devotion.  The  truths 
and  impressions,  which  he  so  zealously  communicates,  are  reflected  back  on  his  own 
soul,  and  he  is  himself  most  improved,  whilst  he  labours  to  improve  his  fellow-beings. 
With  what  joy  will  such  a  minister  stand  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ!  With 
what  joy  will  he  meet  again  his  Christian  friends,  the  objects  of  his  former  solicitude, 
safe  f'rom  every  temptation  in  a  happier  world  !     Think  ye,  my  friends  that  the  over- 


368  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

flowing  gratitude  of  men  wliom  he  has  guirled  to  Heaven ;  think  .ye  that  the  mild  conn- 
tenancc  of  his  Redeemer  beaming  on  him  with  coniphicency  ;  tliink  ye  tliat  tlie  hum- 
ble liope  of  iiaving  swelled  the  everlasting  joys  of  lleaven,  will  give  no  thrill  to  his 
pure  heart?  Behold  his  fidelity  approved  hy  liis  Merciful  Judge,  liehold  him  en- 
trusted with  new  talents  ami  powers,  exalted  to  be  the  minister  of  Divine  benevolence 
in  other  worlds,  perhaps  united  with  the  beings  whom  he  instructed  on  earth,  in  ac- 
complishing purposes  of  love  too  vast  for  the  most  expansive  imagination  to  embrace. 
Gloiitied  servant  of  God,  our  lifted  eyes  toil  in  vain  to  follow  thee  in  thy  rapid  and 
eternal  progress  towards  Divine  perfection.  God  almighty  !  God  most  merciful  ! 
Grunt  to  us  tliy  servants,  that,  by  our  earnest  faithuil  ministry,  we  may  ensure  that 
glory  which  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  lieart  conceived,  but  which  thine  infinite  grace  hath 
prepared  for  the  sincere  and  devoted  preachers  of  thine  holy  word." 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  tlie  Letter  addressed  by  Dr.  Cliaiming 
to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher  "  on  the  Aspersions  contained  in  a 
late  number  of  the  Panoplist,  on  the  Ministers  of  Boston  and  the  Vicinity," 
in  1815  :— 

"  As  to  myself,  I  liave  ever  been  inclined  to  cherish  the  most  exalted  views  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Avhich  are  consistent  with  the  supremacy  of  the  Father  ;  and  I  have  felt  it  my 
duty  to  depart  from  Mr.  Belsham  in  perha|)s  every  sentiment  which  is  peculiar  to  him 
on  this  subject.  I  have  always  been  pleased  with  some  of  the  sentiments  of  Dr.  Watts 
on  the  intimate  and  i)eculiar  union  between  the  Father  and  the  Son.  But  I  have  al- 
ways abstained  most  scrui)ulonsly  from  every  expression  which  could  be  construed 
into  an  acknowledgment  of  the  Trinity.  My  worship  and  sentiments  have  been  Uni- 
tarian in  the  proper  sense  of  that  word.  In  conversation  with  my  people,  who  have 
requested  my  ojuuion  upon  the  subject,  I  have  spoken  with  directness  and  simplicity. 
Some  of  those  who  differ  from  me  most  widely,  have  received  from  me  the  most  ex- 
plicit assurances  of  my  disbelief  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  my  views  in  rela- 
tion to  the  Saviour.  As  to  my  brethren  in  general,  never  have  I  imagined,  for  a  mo- 
ment, from  their  preaching  or  conversation,  that  they  had  the  least  desire  to  be  con- 
sidered as  Trinitarians;  nor  have  I  ever  heard  from  them  any  views  of  God  or  of  Jesus 
Christ,  but  Unitarian  in  the  proper  meaning  of  that  word." 

In  his  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Jared  Sparks,  in  Baltimore,  in  1819, 
Dr.  Channing  says  : — 

*'  "We  have  no  desire  to  conceal  the  fact  that  a  difference  of  opinion  exists  among 
us  in  regard  to  an  interesting  part  of  Christ's  Mediation;  I  mean  in  regard  to  the  pre- 
cise influence  of  his  death  on  our  forgiveness.  Some  suppose  that  this  event  contrib- 
utes to  our  pardon,  as  it  was  a  principal  means  of  confirming  his  religion,  and  of  giv- 
ing it  a  power  over  the  mind  ;  in  other  words,  that  it  procures  forgiveness  by  leading 
to  that  repentance  and  virtue,  which  is  the  great  and  only  condition  on  which  forgive- 
ness is  bestowed.  Many  of  us  are  dissatisfied  with  this  explanation,  and  think  that  the 
Scriptures  ascribe  the  remission  of  sins  to  Christ's  death  with  an  emphasis  so  peculiar 
that  we  ought  to  consider  this  event  as  having  a  special  influence  in  removing  punish- 
ment, as  a  condition  or  method  of  pardon,  without  which  repentance  could  not  avail 
us,  at  least  to  that  extent  which  is  now  promised  by  the  Gospel. 

"  Whilst,  however,  we  differ  in  explaining  the  connection  between  Christ's  death  and 
human  forgiveness,  a  connection  which  we  all  gratefully  acknowledge,  we  agree  in  re- 
jecting many  sentiments  which  prevail  in  regard  to  his  Mediation.  The  idea  which  is 
conveyed  to  common  minds  by  the  i)oj)ular  system,  that  Christ's  death  has  an  influence 
in  making  (iod  placable  or  merciful,  in  quenching  his  wrath,  in  awakening  his  kind- 
ness towards  men.  we  reject  with  horror.  We  believe  that  Jesus,  instead  of  making 
the  Father  merciful,  is  sent  by  the  Father's  mercy  to  be  our  Saviour;  that  He  is  noth- 
ing to  the  human  race  but  what  He  isby  God's  appointment;  that  He  communicates  noth- 
ing but  what  God  empowers  Him  to  bestow  ;  that  our  Father  in  Heaven  is  originally, 
essentially,  eternally  placable  anddisjjosed  to  forgive;  and  that  his  unborrowed,  unde- 
rived  and  nncliangeable  love  is  the  only  fountain  of  what  flows  to  us  through  his  Son. 
We  conceive  that  Jesus  is  dishonoured,  not  glorified,  by  ascribing  to  Him  an  influence 
v/hich  clouds  the  splendour  of  Divine  benevolence." 

Tlie  following  paragraphs  are  from  Dr.  Channing's  Discourse,  delivered 
at  the  Dedication  of  tlie  Second  Congregational  Unitarian  Church  in  New 
York,  in  1826:— 

"  I  know  it  is  said  thatTrinitarianism  magnifies  God's  mercy,  because  it  teaches  that 
He  Himself  provided  the  substitute  for  the  guilty.    But  I  reply  that  the  work  here  as- 


WILLIAM   ELLERY    CHANNING.  369 

cribed  to  mercy  is  not  tlie  most  appropriate,  nor  most  fitted  to  manifest  it  and  impress 
it  oil  the  heart.  This  may  be  made  apparent  by  familiar  illustrations.  Supiiose  that  a 
creditor,  through  compassion  to  certain  debtors,  should  persuade  a  benevolent  and  opu- 
lent man  to  pay  liim  in  tlieir  stead.  Would  not  tlie  debtors  see  a  greater  mercy ,  and  feel 
a  greater  obligation,  if  they  were  to  receive  a  free,  gratuitous  release  ?  And  will  not 
their  chief  gratitude  stray  beyond  the  creditor  to  the  benevolent  substitute?  Or  suppose 
that  a  parent,  unwilling  to  intiict  a  penalty  on  a  disobedient  but  feeble  child,  should 
persuade  a  stronger  cliild  to  bear  it  —  Would  not  the  offender  see  a  more  touching 
mercy  in  a  free  Ibrgiveness,  sjjringing  immediately  fr(nn  a  parent's  heart,  than  in  this 
circuitous  remission  ?  And  will  he  not  be  tempted  to  turn  with  his  strongest  love  to 
tlie  g.'uerous  sufferer  ?  In  tliis  process  of  substitution  of  which  Trinitarianisui  boasts 
so  loudly,  the  mercy  of  God  becomes  com[)licated  with  the  rights  and  merits  of  the 
substitute,  and  is  a  more  distant  cause  than  these  in  our  salvation.  These  are  nearer, 
more  visible,  and  more  than  divide  tiie  glory  with  grace  and  mercy  in  our  rescue. 
They  turn  the  mind  from  mercy,  as  the  only  spring  of  its  happiness,  and  only  rock  of 
its  hiipe.  Now  this  is  to  dei)rive  piety  of  one  of  its  chief  means  of  growtli  and  joy. 
Nothing  slionld  stand  between  tlic  soul  and  God's  mercy.  Nothing  should  share  with 
mercy  the  work  of  our  salvation.  Christ's  intercession  should  ever  be  regarded  as  an 
application  to  love  and  mercy,  not  as  a  demand  of  justice,  not  as  a  claim  of  merit. 
I  grieve  to  say  that  Christ,  as  now  viewed  by  multitudes,  hides  the  lustre  of  that  very 
attribute,  which  it  is  his  great  purpose  to  display.  I  fear  that,  to  many,  Jesus  wears 
the  glory  of  a  more  winning,  tender  mercy  than  his  Father  ;  and  that  He  is  regarded 
as  the  siiHier's  chief  resource. 

"  Trinitarians  imagine  that  there  is  one  view  of  their  system,  peculiarly  fitted  to 
give  peace  and  hope  to  the  sinner,  and  consequently  to  promote  gratitude  and  love. 
It  is  this.  They  say  it  jirovides  an  infinite  substitute  for  the  sinner,  than  which  noth- 
ing can  give  greater  relief  to  the  burdened  conscience.  Jesus,  being  the  second  per- 
son of  the  Trinity,  was  able  to  make  satisfaction  for  sin;  and  what,  they  ask,  in  Uni- 
tarianism,  can  compare  with  this  ?  I  have  time  only  for  two  brief  replies.  And,  first, 
this  doctrine  of  an  iufiuite-satisfaction,  or,  as  it  is  improperly  called,  of  an  infinite 
atonement,  subverts  instead  of  building  up  hope,  because  it  argues  infinite  severity  in 
the  government  which  recjuires  it.  Did  I  believe  what  Triuitarianism  teaclies,  that  not 
the  least  transgression,  not  even  the  first  sin  of  the  dawning  mind  of  the  child,  should, 
be  remitted  without  an  infinite  expiation,  I  should  feel  myself  living  under  a  legisla- 
tion unsi)eakably  dreadful;  under  laws  written,  like  Draco's,  in  blood;  and,  instead, 
of  thanking  the  Sovereign  for  providing  an  infinite  substitute,  I  should  shudder  at  the 
attributes  which  render  this  expedient  necessary.  It  is  commonly  said  that  an  infinite- 
atonement  is  needed  to  make  due  and  deep  impressions  of  the  evil  of  sin.  But  He 
who  framed  all  souls,  and  gave  them  their  susceptibilities,  ought  not  to  be  thought  so- 
wanting  in  goodness  and  wisdom  as  to  have  constituted  a  universe  which  demands  so 
dreadful  and  degrading  a  method  of  enforcing  obedience  as  the  penal  sufferings  of  a 
God.  This  doctrine  of  an  infinite  substitute,  suftering  the  penalty  of  sin,  to  manifest 
God's  wrath  against  sin,  and  thus  to  support  his  government,  is,  1  fear,  so  familiar  to 
us  all  that  its  monstrous  character  is  overlooked.  Let  me  then  set  it  before  you  in 
new  terms,  and  by  a  new  illustration  ;  and  if.  in  so  doing,  I  may  wound  the  feelings 
of  some  wlio  hear  me,  I  beg  them  to  believe  that  I  do  it  with  pain,  and  from  no  im- 
pulse but  a  desire  to  serve  the  cause  of  truth.  Suppose,  then,  that  a  teacher  should 
come  among  you  and  should  tell  you  that  the  Creator,  in  order  to  pardon  his  own 
children,  had  erected  a  gallows  in  the  centre  of  the  universe,  and  had  publicly  ex-- 
ecuted  upon  it,  in  room  of  the  offenders,  an  Infinite  Being,  the  partaker  of  his  own  Su- 
preme Divinity  ;  suppose  Him  to  declare  that  this  execution  was  appointed  as  a  most 
conspicuous  and  terrible  manifestation  of  God's  justice  and  wrath,  and  of  the  infinite 
wo  denounced  by  his  law  ;  and  suppo.se  Him  to  add  that  all  beings  in  Heaven  and 
earth  are  required  to  fix  their  eyes  on  this  fearful  sight,  as  the  most  powerful  enforce- 
ment of  obedience  and  virtue.  Would  you  not  tell  him  that  he  calumniated  liLs- 
Maker  ?  AV'ould  you  not  say  to  him  that  this  central  gallows  threw  gloom  over  the 
universe  ;  that  the  spirit  of  a  government  whose  very  acts  of  pardon  were  written  in 
such  blood,  was  terror,  not  paternal  love  ;  and  that  the  obedience  which  needed  to  hp 
upheld  by  this  horrid  spectacle  was  nothing  worth  ?  Would  you  not  say  to  liim  that 
even  you ,  in  this  infancy  and  imperfection  of  your  being,  were  capable  of  being  wrought 
upon  by  nobler  motives,  and  of  hating  sin  through  more  generous  views  ;  and  that 
much  more  the  angels,  those  pure  flames  of  love,  need  not  the  gallows  and  an  executed 
God  to  confirm  their  loyalty  ?  You  would  all  so  feel  at  such  teaching  as  I  have  sup-- 
posed  ;  anil  yet  how  does  this  diff'er  from  the  popular  doctrine  of  atonement  ?  Ac- 
cording to  this  doctrine,  we  have  an  infinite  Being  sentenced  to  suffer,  as  a  substitute, 
the  death  of  the  cross,  a  punishment  more  ignominious  and  agonizing  than  the  gal- 
lows, a  punishment  reserved  for  slaves  and  the  vilest  malefactors  ;  and  He  sufibrs  this- 
punishment  that  He  may  show  forth  the  terrors  of  God's  law,  and  strike  a  dread  of 
sin  through  the  universe. 

Vol.  VIII.  24 


370  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

"  I  am  indeed  aware  that  multitudes  who  profess  this  doctrine,  are  not  accustomed  to 
bring  it  to  tlieir  minds  distinctly  in  this  light  ;  that  they  do  not  ordinarily  regard  the 
death  of  Christ  as  a  criminal  execution,  as  an  infinitely  dreadful  infliction  of  justice, 
as  intended  to  show  that,  without  an  infinite  satisfaction,  they  must  hope  nothing  from 
God.  Their  minds  turn  by  a  generous  instinct  from  these  appalling  views,  to  the  love, 
the  disinterestedness,  the  moral  grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  sufferer  ;  and  through 
such  thoughts  they  make  the  Cross  a  source  of  peace,  gratitude,  love  and  hope;  thus 
affording  a  delightful  exemplification  of  the  power  of  the  human  mind  to  attach  itself 
to  wliat  is  good  and  purifying  in  the  most  irrational  system.  But  let  none,  on  this 
account,  say  tliat  we  misrepresent  the  doctrine  of  atonement,  the  primary  and  essen- 
tial idea  of  which  is  the  public  execution  of  a  God,  for  the  purpose  of  satisfying  jus- 
tice and  awakening  a  shuddering  dread  of  sin." 

This  last  sentence  was  modified  in  the  second  and  all  subsequent  editions 
of  the  Sermon  as  follows  : — 

'•Not  a  few  may  shudder  at  the  illustration  which  I  have  here  given  ;  but  in  what 
respects  it  is  unjust  to  the  popular  doctrine  of  atonement  I  cannot  discern.  I  grieve 
to  shock  sincere  Christians  of  whatever  name;  but  I  grieve  more  for  the  corruption  of 
our  common  faith,  which  I  have  now  felt  myself  bound  to  expose." 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  Lecture  on  War,  delivered  by  Dr. 
Channing  in  1839:— 

"  God  has  ordained  that  the  wickedness  within  us  shall  always  find  its  expression 
and  punishment  in  outward  evil.  War  is  nothing  more  than  a  reflection  and  image 
of  the  soul.  It  is  the  fiend  within,  coming  out.  Human  history  is  nothing  more  than 
the  inward  nature  manifested  in  its  native  acts  and  issues.  Let  the  soul  continue 
unchanged  ;  and,  should  war  cease,  the  inward  plague  would  still  find  its  way  to  the 
surface.  The  infernal  fire  at  the  centre  of  our  being,  though  it  should  not  break  forth 
in  the  wasting  volcano,  would  not  slumber,  but  by  other  corruptions,  more  insensible, 
yet  not  less  deadly,  would  lay  waste  human  happiness." 

In  the  Address  on  the  Anniversary  of  Emancipation  in  the  British  West 
Indies,  which  he  delivered  at  Lenox,  a  few  weeks  only  before  his  death, 
we  find  the  following  paragraphs  : — 

"  All  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  are  more  and  more  seen  to  be  bonds  of  close, 
spiritual,  reverential  union  between  man  and  man,  and  this  is  the  most  cheering  view 
•of  our  time.  Christianity  is  a  revelation  of  the  infinite,  universal,  parental  love  of 
God  towards  the  human  family,  comprehending  the  most  sinful,  descending  to  the  most 
fallen,  and  its  aim  is  to  breathe  the  same  love  into  its  disciples.  It  shows  us  Christ 
tasting  death  for  every  man,  and  it  summons  us  to  take  the  cross,  or  to  participate  in 
his  sufferings  iu  the  same  cause.  Its  doctrine  of  immortality  gives  infinite  worth  to 
every  liuman  being;  for  every  one  is  destined  to  this  endless  life.  The  doctrine  of 
'the  'Word  made  flesh '  shows  us  God  uniting  Himself  most  intimately  with  our  nature, 
•manifesting  Himself  in  a  human  form  for  the  very  end  of  making  us  partakers  of  his 
own  perfection.  The  doctrine  of  Grace,  as  it  is  termed,  reveals  the  Infinite  Father, 
imparting  Ins  Holy  Spirit,  the  best  gift  lie  can  impart,  to  the  humblest  human  being 
who  imph)res  it.     Thus  love  and  reverence  for  human  nature,  a  love  for  man  stronger 

'than  death,  is  the  very  spirit  of  Christianity. 

•  •■«  «  «  »  •  «  •  »  • 

"  The  song  of  angels,  '  On  earth  Peace,'  will  not  alwaj's  sound  as  fiction.  0  come, 
thou  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  for  which  we  daily  pray!  Come,  Friend,  and  Saviour  of 
the  race,  who  didst  shed  thy  blood  on  the  cross  to  reconcile  man  to  man  and  Earth  to 
Heaven  !  Come  ye  predicted  ages  of  righteousness  and  love,  for  whieli  the  faithful 
have  so  long  yearned  !  Come  Father  Almighty,  and  crown  with  thine  Omnipotence 
'the  humbli!  strivings  of  thy  children  to  subvert  oppression  and  wrong,  to  spread  light 
and  freedom,  peace  and  joy,  the  truth  and  si)irit  of  Ihv  Son,  through  the  whole 
■earth." 

FROM  THE  REV.  EDWARD  W.  HOOKER,  D.  D. 

East  Windsor  Hill,  Conn.,  June  9,  1849. 

Hev.  and  dear  Sir  :  Absence  from  home,  and  pressing  engagements  when  at 
'home,  have  delayed  my  reply  to  yours  of  the  21st.  of  May.  And  I  regret  it 
the  more,  as  I  shall  be  jinable  to  give  you  much  information  which  will  be  of 


WILLIAM   ELLERY    CHANNINQ.  371 

use  to  3'ou,  relative  to  Dr.  Channing,  as  he  appeared  in  his  last  illness.  I 
will,  however,  cheerfully  communicate  to  you  every  thing  on  the  subject  that 
I  remember. 

I  saw  Dr.  Channing  after  his  arrival  at  Bennington  but  three  times  ;  and 
those  before  he  was  supposed  to  be  dangerously  ill  ;  and  my  visits  were  brief. 
The  first  was  a  call  of  but  a  few  moments, —  that  I  might  receive  from  him  a 
letter  of  introduction,  which  I  was  informed  he  had  for  me,  from  Mr.  Charles 
Sedgwick,  of  Lenox,  a  cousin  of  mine,  in  whose  family  Mrs.  Channing  and 
himself  had  visited  while  in  Berkshire  County.  I  recollect  nothing  of  par- 
ticular interest  at  this  call. 

My  second  was  perhaps  of  half  an  hour's  length,  and  under  better  circum- 
stances for  conversation.  He  was  sitting  up,  and  apparently  comfortable, 
though  feeble.  He  had  visited,  with  Mrs.  Channing,  different  places  in  Berkshire 
County,  and  had  taken  Bennington  in  his  route  in  Vermont.  Very  naturally, 
therefore,  as  a  man  of  taste,  he  spoke  of  the  scenery  of  the  two  Counties,  which 
is  unusually  diversified,  beautiful,  and,  at  some  points,  sublime.  I  was  es- 
pecially gratified  to  observe  that  he  seemed  to  be  looking  at  the  country  through 
which  he  was  passing,  not  alone  with  the  eyes  of  a  lover  of  fine  scenery,  but 
as  interesting  himself  in  studying  the  moral  aspects  of  the  people.  Among 
other  things,  I  remember  he  spoke  of  their  being  (^to  use  his  own  expression) 
«<  apparentl}'  a  religious  people." 

I  do  not  recollect  any  thing  in  his  conversation  at  this  time  which  indicated 
his  views  distinctively  on  matters  of  religious  belief.  But  on  the  subject  of 
Christian  practice,  and  a  high  standard  of  Christian  morals  in  those  profes- 
sing religion,  and  on  the  importance  of  living  in  consistency  with  their  relig- 
ious professions,  he  spoke  with  an  explicitness  and  earnestness  with  which  I 
•was  exceedingly  gratified.  If  I  recollect  aright,  this  topic  of  conversation 
came  up  in  connection  with  the  subject  of  fraudulent  bankruptcy,  as  having 
appeared  in  commercial  circles,  in  the  case  of  even  some  professing  to  be 
Christians.  It  was  obvious  that  he  had  thought  and  been  solicitous  upon  the 
subject  of  Christian  integrity  in  the  business  transactions  of  life.  Some  in- 
quiries also  which  he  made  of  me,  relative  to  two  persons  residing  in  our 
vicinity,  whom  he  had  met  at  the  Springs,  and  who  had  invited  Mrs.  C.  and 
himself  to  visit  them,  if  they  came  to  Bennington,  indicated  that  he  was  cau- 
tious of  cultivating  acquaintance  with  any,  however  wealthy,  or  fashionable, 
or  courteous  to  himself,  of  whose  character  for  strict  virtue  he  did  not  feel 
confident.  His  whole  demeanour  in  conversation  was  such  as  becomes  the 
ministerial  cliaracter  and  profession:  serious,  and  yet  in  as  good  degree  cheer- 
ful as  could  be  expected  in  one  whose  state  of  health  was  so  delicate. 

I  left  home,  a  day  or  two  after  this  second  call,  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the 
American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions,  at  Norwich,  Conn. 
Supposing  it  probable  that  he  would  be  able  to  resume  his  journey  in  a  few 
days,  and  be  gone  on  his  way  before  my  return,  I  had  no  expectation  of  see- 
ing him  again  during  his  sojourn  in  Bennington  at  that  time.  I  was  absent  a 
week  or  more,  and,  on  my  return,  found  that  he  was  still  at  the  hotel,  and 
that  his  malady  had  become  more  serious.  I  called  on  him  as  soon  as  practi- 
cable and  had  another  interview  with  him.  He  was  on  his  bed,  and  I  could 
see  that  he  had  grown  more  feeble  during  my  absence  ;  but  he  received  me  in 
a  very  friendly  manner,  and  seemed  gratified  that  I  had  called  again  to  see 
him.  On  my  mentioning,  as  a  reason  why  I  had  not  called  to  see  him  before, 
that  I  had  been  absent  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the  American  Board,  he  in- 
quired of  me  respecting  the  meeting,  and  asked  me  to  give  him  some  account  of 
it.  I  did  so,  so  far  as  to  describe  briefly  its  principal  features,  especially  the 
spirit  that  pervaded  it,  and  the  general  prospects  of  the  missionary  enterprise  as 
connected  with  the  Board.     I  do  not  recollect  any  remarks  which  he  made  on 


372  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

the  subject.  Indeed,  just  as  I  had  finished  answering  his  inquiries,  Iiis  phy- 
sician, Dr.  Swift,  camo  into  tlie  apartment,  and  of  course  I  resigned  my  place 
at  the  bedside  to  him,  and  waited  till  he  had  made  his  professional  visit.  Dr. 
Swift,  as  he  was  leaving  tlie  room,  remarked  to  me  that  Dr.  Clianning's  ner- 
vous system  was  in  so  delicate  a  state  that  he  would  advise  me  not  to  pro- 
tract my  call.  I  tliought  it  best,  therefore,  to  take  my  leave  of  him  fur  that 
morning,  and  retired  at  the  same  time  with  Dr.  Swift.  This  was  the  last  time 
that  I  saw  Dr.  Channing  ;  for,  though  I  called  at  his  room  afterwai-ds,  at  two 
or  three  different  times,  to  see  him,  if  it  warii  proper,  I  was  informed  that  he 
was  too  feeble  to  admit  of  it,  and  of  course  retired  without  seeing  him. 

Learning  from  Dr.  Swift,  from  day  to  day,  that  Dr.  Channing  was  gradu- 
ally sinking,  and  at  lengtli  that  he  probably  could  not  recover,  I  inquired  if  he 
was  aware  of  his  situation,  and  how  he  seemed  affected  in  the  prospect  of 
death.  Dr.  Swift  replied  that  Dr.  C.  had,  a  few  days  before,  requested  him 
to  tell  him  frankly  what  he  thought  of  his  case,  and  that  he  had  expressed  to 
him  his  own  and  his  brother's  apprehension  of  a  fatal  issue,  and  had  advised 
him  to  send  for  an}"^  of  his  fiiends  whom  he  might  wish  to  see  beiore  his  de- 
parture. Dr.  Channing's  replj^  as  nearly  as  I  can  now  recollect  Dr.  Swift's 
statement,  was  to  this  effect  —  that  it  would  have  been  his  wish  to  have  been 
able  to  reach  home,  and  die  among  his  friends,  but  if  Providence  ordered 
otherwise,  he  submitted  to  the  allotment.  On  my  way  home  from  church  on 
the  Sabbath  when  Dr.  0.  died,  I  met  his  nephew,  the  Rev.  William  II.  Chan- 
ning, who  was  attending  upon  him,  and  was  returning  from  a  walk,  appar- 
ently taken  to  refresh  himself  from  the  confinement  of  the  sick  room.  I  in- 
quired of  him  respecting  his  uncle,  and  he  told  me  that  he  was  evidently 
sinking  rapidly.  I  asked  if  he  seemed  conscious  of  his  situation  :  he  replied 
that  the  Doctor,  though  in  great  mental  languor,  had,  some  two  or  thiee  days 
previously,  requested  him  to  read  to  him  Christ's  Sermon  on  the  Mount  ; 
that  he  read  a  part  of  it  to  him,  and  it  seemed  to  comfort  him  ;  and  that,  on 
the  following  day.  Dr.  C.  requested  him  to  resume  the  reading  of  the  same 
portion  of  Scripture  :  from  which  he  presumed  that  he  was  able  to  recollect 
and  connect  things  from  day  to  day.  I  do  not  recollect  any  thing  further  men- 
tioned by  Mr.  Channing. 

Dr.  Channing  died,  1  believe,  about  sunset,  of  a  delightful  autumnal  Sab- 
bath. My  congregation  on  that  day  were  aware  of  his  situation,  and  the  fact 
that  he  was  dying  in  the  hotel  directly  opposite  our  place  of  worship  gave  to 
the  exercises  of  the  day  a  peculiar  solemnity.  I  endeavoured  to  offer  suit- 
able supplications  on  his  behalf  as  a  distinguished  stranger  who  had  come  to 
die  among  us.  No  public  religious  exercises  were  held  at  Bennington  in  con- 
sequence of  his  death  ;  and  the  whole  train  of  circumstances,  preceding  and 
attending  the  event,  passed  away  with  a  solemn  and  affecting  silence. 
With  Christian  salutations,  Yours  truly, 

E.  W.  HOOKER. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ORVILLE  DEWEY,  D.  D. 

Sheffield,  May  11,  1848. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  have  asked  me  for  my  recollections  of  Dr.  Channing.  I 
shall  willingly  devote  some  hours  to  retracing  them,  for  they  are  among  the 
most  interesting  of  my  life;  and  the  more  willingly  because  to  what  I  have 
said  of  him  in  a  public  Discourse  I  am  glad  to  append  some  things  that  belong 
more  properly  to  the  freedom  of  epistolary  writing.  You  will  understand, 
therefore,  that  I  do  not  propose  to  go  into  any  general  views  of  his  character 
and  writings,  which  I  have  already  expressed  elsewhere,  as  well  as  I  could, 
but  to  speak  of  him  in  a  more  familiar  manner- 


TVILLIAM    ELLERY    CHANNING.  373 

My  acquaintance  with  Channing  commenced  neaily  thirty  years  ago, —  just 
as  I  was  entering  my  profession.  I  passed  several  weeks  witli  him  in  his 
family  at  that  time,  and  for  more  than  a  year  often  officiated  in  his  pu  pil;  as 
his  health  then,  and  indeed  ever  after,  permitted  him  to  preach  hut  seldom. 
He  usuall}'  attended  church,  however,  and  it  was  not  a  little  trying  for  a 
young  man  to  preach  with  such  a  presence  as  his  in  the  pulpit.  He  was,  how- 
ever, a  most  considerate  as  well  as  sincere  critic.  It  is  characteristic  perhaps 
of  the  ablest  men.  I  remember  his  saying  of  Buckminster  that  "  he  was  the 
most  tolerant  critic  on  preaching  among  his  brethren."  But  Channing's  judg- 
ment on  every  subject  certainly  had  singular  weight,  not  only  from  its  intrin- 
sic worth,  but  because  it  was  not  eagerly  put  forward.  It  came  in  as  a  kind 
of  reserved  force  that  decides  every  thing.  At  any  rate,  it  was  rather  a  formi- 
dable tiling  to  have  in  the  pulpit.  "  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  him  who 
sat  behind  me,"  said  one,  "  though  my  text  vva.s,  <  forgetting  things  tliat  are 
behind  and  pressing  forward  to  things  tliat  are  before.'  "  I  reniembei'  bis  lirst 
criticism  on  mi  was,  «'  You  address  yourself  too  much  to  the  imagination,  and 
too  little  to  the  conscience."  Indeed,  I  always  felt  his  presence  to  be  the 
sharpest  inspection  or  the  keenest  trial  of  my  thoughts.  His  mind  was  con- 
stantly strained  to  the  highest  tension  — he  seemed  not  to  know  how  to  Itt  it 
down  to  ordinaiy  chit-chat.  It  has  been  said,  by  a  foreign  critic,  that  "  his 
style  was  a  naked  tlionght."  I  might  say  that  his  presence  was  a  living 
thought.  Something  like  this,  I  imagine,  might  have  been  the  impression  of 
one  of  the  most  eminent  persons  in  tliis  c<mntry, —  himself  conversant  with 
some  of  tlie  ablest  men  on  both  sides  of  the  water,  who  once  said  to  me,  '=  Mr. 
Channing  is  tlie  greatest  man  in  conversation  that  1  have  ever  met  witli — lliere 
is  nil  man  to  whom  I  listen  with  so  much  pleasure,  nor  to  whom  it  is  so  hard 
for  me  to  speak  when  my  turn  conies." 

For  myself  I  do  not  well  know  what  more  raie  or  remarkable  could  cross  a 
young  man's  path  tlian  intercourse  with  sucii  a  mind  as  his.  It  was  a  new 
thing  in  my  experience,  and  has  stood  alone  ever  since.  For  weeks  I  listened 
to  him  and  studied  him  as  ni}'  sole  business.  In  a  quiet  and  low  tone,  with 
little  variety  of  intonation,  without  passion,  without  a  jest,  without  laughter, 
■without  one  common-place  remark,  he  went  on,  day  after  day,  either  pursuing 
some  one  theme,  as  he  often  did  for  days,  or,  if  descending  to  ordinary  tojiics, 
always  surveying  iheni  from  the  loftiest  point  of  view,  and  always  talking  with 
such  mental  insight  and  such  profound  emotion  as  penetrated  the  heart 
through  and  through.  There  was  a  kind  of  suppressed  feeling  about  him,  far 
more  touching  than  any  other  manifestation  could  be;  and  1  have  heard  one 
say,  who  was  well  qualified  to  appreciate  it,  that  it  was  sometimes  difficult  in 
society  to  preserve  the  due  decorum,  to  restrain  the  teai'S  that  rose,  as  he 
talked  in  that  subdued  and  toucliing  tone,  and  especially  on  religious  subjects. 

It  was,  indeed,  altogether  a  most  lemarkable  tiling, —  his  conversation;  and 
3-et  1  do  not  know  that  T  would  have  purcha.sed  it  at  the  price  he  paid  for  it.  He 
stood  alone — I  found  him  embosomed  in  reverence  and  affection,  and  yet  living 
in  a  singular  isolation.  No  being  was  ever  more  simple,  unpretending  and 
kindly-natured  than  he,  and  yet  no  such  being  surely  was  ever  so  inaccessible 
—  not  that  he  was  proud,  but  that  he  was  venerated  as  something  out  of  the 
earthly  sphere.  Scarcely  any  of  his  professional  brethren,  even  those  for 
whom  he  had  the  highest  esteem,  had  any  fiimiliarity  or  any  proper  fieedom 
with  him.  Even  Henry  Ware,  possessing  in  so  many  respects  a  kindred 
nature,  said, —  "  I  go  to  Channing,  I  listen  to  him;  I  go  away;  that  is  all." 
One  felt  it  necessary  to  sit  bolt  upright  in  conversing  with  him,  and  to  strain 
his  mind  as  to  a  task.  It  was  long  before  I  could  lounge  upon  his  sofa,  as  I 
talked  with  him,  and  say  what  I  pleased.  Something  of  this  may  perhaps  be 
referred  to  local  influences.    Our  New  England  manners  are  proverbially  cold 


374  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Among  the  Southern  gentlemen,  you  may  have  observed, —  you  may  often  see 
it  in  Congress, —  that  when  a  man  sits  down  by  his  friend  to  talk  with  him, 
he  throws  his  arm  around  his  shoulders.  Nobody,  I  think,  ever  did  so 
to  Channing.  Nobody,  I  imagine,  ever  said,  on  entering  his  study,  "  IIo\r 
d'ye  do,  Channing  ?"  Ilis  own  family,  always,  and  most  affectionately,  called 
him  William,  but  the  freer  mteicourse,  the  fonder  leanings  of  friendship, 
never  went  with  him,  I  believe,  beyond  that  charmed  circle.  I  shall  be  curi- 
ous to  note,  in  his  forthcoming  biography,  whether  in  his  letters  he  ever 
addressed  any  body,  as  "My  dear  John" — or  <«  My  dear  Phillips."  I 
doubt  whether  he  did;  and  yet  he  did  not  like  isolation  or  formality.  He 
longed  for  freer  actings  of  mind  and  manners  around  him.  He  used  to  say  to 
me,  concerning  a  gentleman  celebrated  for  his  wit  and  agreeableness, —  '<  I 

want  to  see  your  friend,  Mr.  ,  I  want  to  see  him. and  hear  him  as  you 

do."  But  the  wish  was  as  vain  as  if  he  had  desired  to  see  a  well-bred  man 
laugh  in  church.  Ilis  presence,  his  spirit  made  a  kind  of  sanctuary  around 
him.  It  was  this,  I  suppose,  that  kept  him  in  a  degree  isolated  from  almost 
all  the  distinguished  men  of  the  country,  and  even  of  his  own  city. 

And  yet,  I  must  repeat,  nothing  could  be  less  intentional,  or  less  desired,  on 
his  part.  Nothing  could  exceed  his  simplicity,  his  freedom  from  all  preten- 
sion and  affectation.  I  first  knew  him  as  Mr.  Channing;  and  I  always  called 
him  so.  lie  did  not  like  a  title.  He  used  to  say  he  thought  it  a  kind  of  injus- 
tice, in  a  social  circle,  to  distinguish  one  person  in  it  by  the  title  of  Doctor,  as 
it  would  be  by  the  title  of  Prince  or  Duke;  though,  to  be  sure,  the  title  of 
Doctor  has  become  with  us  a  thing  of  little  enough  mark  or  note.  But  why 
should  it  be  applied  to  the  Clergy,  in  common  parlance,  more  than  it  is  to  a 
Doctor  of  Laws  ?  Let  it  stand  in  title  pages  and  such  places,  if  one  pleases, 
and  be  confined  to  them.  A  distinguished  Professor  once  said,  when  called 
in  question  for  not  giving  Channing  his  title, —  <'  I  will  not  call  such  a  man 
Doctor."  I  wish  the  heavy  and  lumbering  prefix,  and  now  nearly  unmean- 
ing too,  were  dropped  in  universal  conversation.  But  although  Dr.  Channing 
did  not  care  to  be  called  Doctor,  he  still  less  cared  to  make  an  ado  about  it. 
He  did  not  like  an  ado  about  any  thing.  I  may  say,  peihaps,  that  there  was 
a  kind  of  apathy  in  him  about  little  things,  and  things  which  to  others  pos- 
sibly were  not  little.  He  seemed  often  insensible  to  the  feelings  of  others, 
partly  fiom  abstraction  no  doubt,  and  partly  because  he  could  not  enter  into 
their  feelings  about  himself.  I  was  amused  sometimes,  when  persons  were 
introduced  to  him,  with  many  bows,  and  extraordinary  demonstrations  of 
respect,  to  see  him  apparently  as  unconscious  of  it  as  the  chair  he  sat  in. 
Yet  he  was  a  courteous  receiver.  It  was  not  possible  for  a  nature  like  his  to 
be  discourteous,  though  it  might  be  abstracted.  Those  that  -were  with  him 
might  think  themselves  neglected  because  he  seemed  to  pay  no  attention  to 
some  observation  or  question  of  theirs.  This  arose,  sometimes  from  his  not 
hearing  them;  for  his  hearing  in  one  ear  was  imperfect.  But  it  was  some- 
times owing  to  abstraction.  I  have  often  known  him  to  refer  to  the  remark 
that  solicited  his  notice  ten  minutes  after  it  was  uttered.  But,  though  ordi- 
narily grave,  and  frequently  absorbed,  he  would  gladly  have  escaped  oftener 
than  he  did  the  spells  of  thought  that  were  upon  him.  I  think  he  unbent  with 
children  more  easily  than  with  others.  Though  not  specially  fond  of  children 
perhaps,  yet  he  was  always  most  tender  and  affectionate  to  them;  and  I  have, 
more  than  once,  seen  my  own  driving  him  about  the  parlour  for  a  horse,  hold- 
ing on  to  the  skirts  of  his  coat  for  reins.  The  notion  which  some  persons 
entertained  that  he  was  unnecessarily  attentive  to  his  own  health  was  alto- 
gether erroneous.  I  know  that  his  extremely  delicate  constitution  needed 
singular  care.  If  he  changed  his  coat  five  times  a  day,  as  he  did  sometimes, 
to  him  it  was  necessary.     Doubtless  his  habits  of  abstraction  and  retirement 


WILLIAM   ELLERY    CHANNING.  375 

might  sometimes  lead  him  to  make  mistakes  that  looked  like  a  morbid  care  of 
himself.  A  parishioner  of  his  told  me  that  he  called  upon  him  one  April  day, 
—  one  of  those  da3'S  when  the  soft  South-west  wind  breathes  over  tl>e  earth 
the  promise  of  spring, —  and  he  said  to  Mr.  Channing  who  seemed  unwell,  and 
in  low  spirits, —  "  Why  do  you  not  go  out,  Sir,  and  take  a  walk  ?"  Channing 
simply  pointed  through  his  study-window  to  the  spire  of  Park  Street  Church, 
which  was  in  sight,  and  said, —  Do  you  see  that  vane?"  Yes,"  was  the 
reply  «<  I  see  it;  it  has  been  stuck  fast  and  pointing  to  the  North-oast  for  a 
fortnight."  This  information  dissolved  the  spell,  and  the  invalid  —  for  he 
was  never  otherwise  —  went  out  and  enjoyed  a  delightful  walk. 

His  summers  were  spent  almost  invariably  on  the  Island  of  Rhode  Island, 
near  Newport.  He  usually  paid  us  an  annual  visit  at  New  Bedford,  thirty 
miles  distant,  commonly  including  a  Sunday  among  the  days  he  spent  with 
us;  preaching  once,  and  making  it  harder  for  me  to  preach  all  the  rest  of  the 
year.  On  my  returning  one  of  these  visits,  I  recollect  finding  him  at  a  farm- 
house, occupied  by  a  tenant  of  the  family  near  the  beach.  Almost  the  first 
words  he  said  to  me  were,  ««  I  am  passing  days  here  in  questionings  and 
doubts."  It  was  indeed  a  place  in  which  to  muse  and  meditate,  amidst  the 
rise  and  fall  of  waters  and  the  murmurings  of  the  everlasting  sea.  I  immedi- 
ately replied, —  for  the  incessant  themes  of  our  conversation  did  not  allow  me 
to  hesitate  about  his  meaning, — ««  What  !  have  you  any  doubts  about  reli- 
gion ?"  "  No,"  he  replied,  "  my  doubts  are  about  myself  !"  Oh,  these  sol- 
emn doublings  —  what  honest  and  thoughtful  mind  does  not  at  times  feel  their 
cold  shadow  come  over  it!  But  about  principles  Channing  was  singularly 
free  from  doubt.  I  once  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  any  doubts  about  immor- 
tality. "  I  have  none  "  was  his  reply;  "  I  think  my  mind,  from  its  struc- 
ture, especially  inclines  to  believing."  It  was  doubtless  true.  Channing's 
genius,  if  I  may  say  so,  was  emphatically  a  religious  genius.  All  his  thoughts, 
tendencies,  conversations,  ran  irresistibly  in  that  direction.  I  think  it  was  on 
occasion  of  this  same  visit  to  which  I  have  referred,  that,  after  he  had  gone 
on  in  his  accustomed  way  for  a  day  or  two,  I  said  to  him, —  '<  I  cannot  bear 
this  any  longer,  I  am  not  well;  I  came  over  here  for  relaxation  —  if  you  persist 
in  talking  in  this  way,  I  must  take  my  leave  of  you  and  go  home."  "  Well," 
said  he,  '«  let  it  all  drop;  let  us  talk  about  something  else."  But  he  could  not 
let  it  drop  —  he  could  not  talk  long  of  any  thing  else. 

I  ought  to  add  that  Channing's  interest  in  every  thing  relating  to  the  gen- 
eral progress  and  welfare  of  the  world  was  one  of  singular  intensity.  The 
way  in  which  he  noted  every  indication,  and  signalized  every  fact,  and  scruti- 
nized every  opinion,  that  bore  upon  this  subject,  many  must  remember.  And 
in  his  mind  conservati\e  and  liberal  principles  were  strongly  bound  together. 
He  watched  every  project  of  reform  with  a  lively  and  sympathizing  interest, 
and  yet  he  was  equally  cautious,  and  more  than  one  disappointment  was  expe- 
rienced by  the  Reformers  of  the  day  because  to  their  projects  he  could  not  give 
in  his  entire  adhesion. 

1  have  thus  attempted,  my  dear  Sir,  to  comply  with  your  request.  I  have 
indulged  in  familiar  details,  because  I  suppose  that  such  were  sought  from 
me,  in  a  communication  of  this  kind,  rather  than  general  discussions  of  the 
character  and  writings  of  Channing.  This  familiarity  surely  implies  no  want 
of  veneration.  I  feel  that  a  high,  a  beautiful  presence  has  passed  away  from 
me,  which  I  hope  to  meet  again  in  auother  world. 

J  am,  my  dear  Sir,  with 

Sincere  regard,  yours  truly, 

ORVILLE  DEWEY. 


376  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  EPIIRAIM  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Boston,  June  15,  1852. 

Dear  Sir  :  My  personal  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Channing,  so  far  as  it  could 
be  made  serviceable  to  the  object  which  you  have  in  view,  was  confined  very 
much  to  the  single  winter  of  1837-38.  During  that  time,  I  had  what  1  es- 
teemed a  great  privilege, —  the  opportunity  of  quite  constant  intercourse  with 
him. —  I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  j'ou  an  account  of  his  life,  nor  any  full 
description  of  his  character.  Both  of  these  things  have  been  done  and  well 
done,  in  bis  Memoirs,  by  his  nephew,  William  H.  Channing.  To  what  be  has 
written  little  could  be  added  ;  and  I  think  those  most  competent  to  judge 
regaid  the  view  which  he  has  given  of  his  uncle,  as  not  more  affectionate  than 
it  is  just.     It  is  a  true  portraiture  of  the  man. 

Of  those  qualities  by  which  1  was  most  impressed,  one  was  the  great  inter- 
est which  he  took  in  the  young.  He  had  himself  preserved,  through  all  the 
experience  of  manhood,  the  fresh  warm  sympathetic  heart  of  youth.  He 
loved  to  have  the  young  around  him.  He  entered  into  their  feelings,  and 
treaced  their  opinions  with  a  most  respectful  attention.  The  respect  was  sin- 
cere ;  the  sympathy  most  hearty  and  genial.  He  knew  how  to  attract  the 
young;  they  came  to  him  with  the  greatest  confidence,  unbosomed  to  him 
their  moral  difficulties,  and  felt  that  his  counsels  were  those  of  a  friend,  as 
tender  in  his  sympathies  as  he  was  wise  in  his  judgment.  I  think  there  are 
man}"^  now  living,  who  would  say  that,  under  Providence,  the  most  inspiring, 
encouraging  and  elevating  influence  of  early  manhood  and  womanhood  came 
from  a  personal  intercourse  with  him.  In  a  singular  degree,  while  he  urged 
on  them  the  most  rigid  standard  of  duty,  he  was  patient  and  encouiaging  ; 
and,  while  he  set  before  Ihem  the  highest  ends,  he  knew  how  to  stimulate  aud 
encourage  the  feeble  and  faltering  to  attain  them. 

As  one's  intercourse  continued,  the  next  point  which  appeared  most  promi- 
nently was,  I  think,  the  love  of  truth, —  a  peculiar  openness  of  mind  to  new 
views,  a  readiness  in  appreciating  them,  and  a  strong  craving  to  reach  the 
truth.  I  remember  his  saying  that  when  he  was  j'oung,  a  great  difficulty 
with  which  he  had  to  contend,  was  the  way  in  which  new  subjects  fastened 
upon  and  tyrannized  over  bis  mind, —  depriving  him  of  sleep,  interfering  with 
his  health  until  he  was  able,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  to  see  througli  and  under- 
stand them.  His  mind  was  judicial.  Conversation  with  him  was  not  a  con- 
flict of  wits,  but  an  instrument  for  investigating  truth;  not  an  argumentative 
contioversy,  but  an  inquii-}'.  On  leaving  him,  you  felt  that  3-ou  had  not  been 
learnnig  how  to  maintain  a  side,  but  that  you  had  penetrated  deeper  into  the 
Bubject  of  discussion.  He  was,  by  taste,  temper  and  habit,  conservative;  but 
he  kept  himself  always  in  the  attitude  of  a  learner,  of  one  who  desired  and 
wislied  to  reach  higher  and  clearer  views  of  truth.  This  preserved  the  youth 
of  his  mind,  made  him  hospitable  towards  new  ideas  and  pleasant  to  opinions 
unlike  his  own.  But  these  very  qualities,  and  the  extended  inquiries  to 
which  they  gave  rise,  whenever  he  became  satisfied  that  he  had  reached  the 
truth,  made  his  convictions  most  profound  and  earnest.  What  he  believed  he 
believed  with  his  whole  mind  and  heart. 

In  bis  search  after  truth,  there  was  a  remarkable  blending  together  of  the 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties.  It  is  hard  to  explain  in  words  what  every 
■one  felt  who  knew  him.  It  was  not  merely  that  his  mind  speculated  under 
the  control  of  his  conscience,  but  the  moral  sense  seemed  to  have  penetrated 
and  transfused  itself  through  and  lifted  up  the  intellect,  till  it  had,  in  a 
manner,  absorbed  itself  in  its  powers,  and  subjected  them  entirely  to  its  own 
higher  action.  It  was  not  so  much  a  conscientious  intellect  as  an  intellectual 
•conscience.     The   simplicity,  directness  and  wisdom  which  characterized  his 


WILLIAM    ELLERY    CHANNING.  377 

views,  were  greatly  owing  to  this  harmonious  action  of  his  whole  spiritual 
nature.  He  shrunk  from  any  injustice  to  the  opinions  of  otheis,  and  from 
statements  and  arguments  in  which  truth  is  sacrificed  to  point  and  effect,  as 
most  men  shrink  from  direct  falsehood  in  words,  or  dishonesty  in  action. 

But  the  quality  which,  above  all  others,  manifested  itself  on  increasing 
acquaintance  with  him,  was  the  devotional  habit  of  his  mind.  I  do  not  mean 
to  compare  him  with  others,  but  in  him  the  sentiment  of  devotion  was  so  re- 
markable that  I  should  select  it  as  perhaps  the  most  striking  point  of  his 
character.  It  was  as  simple  and  unostentatious  as  possible,  but  it  was  habit- 
ual and  all-controlling.  As  you  came  to  know  him  well,  you  felt  that  his 
mind  kept  habitually  within  the  circle  of  light  which  shines  down  from  above. 
It  appeared  not  in  any  single  thing  that  he  said,  but  in  his  whole  way  of 
thinking  and  conversation.  I  remember  finding  him  once  in  his  study,  read- 
ing the  Confessions  of  St  Augustine.  He  told  me  that  he  made  it  a  practice, 
every  day,  to  read,  by  himself,  during  a  certain  time,  some  strictly  devotional 
book,  like  the  work  then  in  his  hand,  or  the  writings  of  Fenelon,  or  the  Gos- 
pels, not  for  the  purpose  of  speculating,  but  with  the  endeavour  to  enter  into 
their  devotional  meaning.  He  thought  it  a  matter  of  great  moment  to  enter 
on  the  labours  of  the  day,  with  the  mind  profoundly  impressed  with  a  sense 
of  the  Divine  Presence.  He  spoke  of  it  with  reference  to  the  advantage  to 
one's  self,  but  such  was  my  impression  of  the  devout  and  reverential  tendency 
of  his  mind,  that  I  felt  sure  that,  in  his  case,  the  habit  had  grown  out  of 
his  prevailing  feelings,  rather  than  the  feelings  out  of  the  habit.  Of  course  I 
do  not  mention  this  custom  as  being  either  uncommon  or  peculiar,  but  as  a 
single  illustration  of  his  character.  No  one  could  have  known  him  long  with- 
out believing  that  his  thoughts  never  wandered  far  from  the  Divine  Presence. 

Perhaps  that  which  gives  the  highest  idea  of  his  character  was  the  fact 
that  he  occupied  a  constantly  growing  place  in  your  respect,  as  you  knew  him 
more  intimatel)'.  There  have  been  great  orators,  who  were  very  ordinai'y  men, 
— persons  whose  whole  moral  and  intellectual  life  seemed  condensed  into  their 
occasional  public  speeches,  and  who,  between  these  public  displays,  moved  on 
a  poor  and  low  level  of  thought  and  purpose.  AVith  Dr.  Channing  it  was  the 
reverse.  Ilis  writings  were  not  exceptions  to  his  life,  but  the  natural, 
unforced,  and  often  incidental  expression  of  his  ordinary'  and  common  state 
of  mind.  Ilis  common  conversation  was  more  genial  and  varied,  but  it  was 
pitched  on  the  same  moral  key  with  his  writings.  There  was  no  break  or  jar 
between  his  public  and  private  life.  Never  were  writings  more  thoroughly 
natural.  They  flowed  off  from  the  level  of  his  mind.  His  conversation, 
though  varying  to  meet  the  occasion  and  sympathies  of  the  moment,  was  of 
the  same  quality  with  his  books.  His  writings  gave  only  a  just  idea  of  the 
man. 

Dr.  Channing  possessed  one  characteristic  of  greatness  in  a  remarkable 
degree, —  the  power  of  sacrificing  that  which  Avas  secondary  and  important 
to  that  which  was  central  and  essential.  It  was  in  part  owing,  I  imagine,  to 
his  health.  lie  was  so  frail  that  it  seemed  a  wonder  that  he  lived  from  year 
to  3'ear.  He  was  capable  of  enduring  but  little  labour.  Among  the  many 
calls  upon  him  he  was  obliged  to  choose,  and  he  conscientiously  devoted  his 
whole  strength  to  what  he  deemed  the  most  important  thing  of  the  time.  He 
allowed  no  secondary  matter  to  turn  him  aside  from  this.  The  result  was 
that,  in  spite  of  a  state  of  health  which  most  men  would  have  regarded  an 
absolute  sickness,  in  spite  of  weakness  and  depressing  debilit}^  he  produced 
works  which  seem  to  have  made  a  permanent  impression  on  the  age.  This 
characteristic  ran  into  all  that  he  did.  He  was  compelled  to  avoid  many 
occasions  where  his  services  were  wanted.  This  often  subjected  him  to  severe 
criticism,  and,  all  the  more,  that,  trusting  to  his  rectitude  of  purpose,  he 


378  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

never  mailc  excuses  or  apologies  for  the  course  he  took.  His  life  was  a  public 
one,  but  he  had  no  sensitiveness  to  public  opinion,  so  far  as  it  affected  him- 
self. I  do  not  believe  that  there  is  a  line  in  all  his  writings,  which  ever 
received  a  different  colouring  from  any  thought  of  its  influence  on  his  owu 
reputation.  He  so  put  himself  aside  in  this  respect  that  he  seemed  like  an 
impersonal  teacher.  He  wrote  not  for  himself,  but  as  one  dedicated  to  truth, 
and  human  welfare  and  God's  service. 

I  should  judge  that  he  was  not  a  great  student  in  the  German  sense  of  the 
term.  He  was  essentially  a  thinker.  A  history  of  his  life  would  be  a  his- 
tory of  his  thoughts.  He  gained  information  more  from  men  than  books.  His 
society  was  sought  by  the  most  eminent  men  in  different  de|iai'tments  of  life. 
He  loved  to  have  intercourse  with  all  kinds  of  men,  and  especially  willi  tliose 
whose  ways  of  thinking  were  unlike  his  own.  He  had  a  singular  faculty  of 
drawing  from  them  their  information  and  their  views,  and  in  his  way  he  proba- 
bl}'  understood  them  bettei-  than  if  he  had  been  acquainted  with  tliem  only 
through  books.  Owing  to  this,  his  intercourse  with  strangers  had  a  pecu- 
liarity, which  sometimes  made  him  misunderstood,  and  which  often  disap- 
pointed them.  They  went  to  visit  an  eminent  man.  They  found  him  anxious 
not  to  exhibit  himself,  nor  to  delight  them,  but  to  draw  from  them  what  wa.s 
peculiar  in  their  own  views.  In  this  way,  notwithstanding  his  retired  life,  ho 
had  a  very  large  acquaintance  with  mankind,  and  to  his  personal  acquaintance 
with  leading  minds  of  the  most  various  description  I  attribute  tlie  general 
breadth  and  clearness  of  judgment  which  he  exhibited  on  the  more  perplexed 
social  and  moral  questions  of  the  time. 

I  had  none  of  those  oppoitunities  which  would  enable  me  to  give  an  account 
of  Dr.  Channmg's  life,  but,  in  accordance  with  your  desire,  I  have  endeavoured 
to  describe  as  accurately  as  I  could  the  real  impression  which  his  cliaracter 
made  upon  me.  What  I  have  written  may  sound  like  eulogy ,_  but  in  trutii  I 
have  understated  rather  than  overstated  that  impression.  I  am  sure  that  the 
characteristics  which  I  have  mentioned  are  among  those  which  will  be  regarded 
as  the  most  prominent,  by  all  who  knew  him  personally.  Those  who  did  not 
know  him,  and  who  wi.sh  to  understand  him,  will  lind  his  character  in  his 
writings.  The  moral,  religious,  and  humane  tone  of  what  he  wrote,  had  its 
origin,  not  in  his  intellect,  but  in  his  heart,  and  no  more  than  lepresented  his 
prevailing  and  habitual  mode  of  thought  and  life. 

With  great  respect. 

Most  truly  yours, 

EPHKAlxM  PEABODY. 

FKOM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

Boston,  August  18,  1858. 

My  dear  Sir  :  I  have  delayed  longer  than  I  intended  to  fulfil  my  promise  to 
write  you  a  letter  concerning  Dr.  Channing.  I  do  feel  as  if  I  knew  him  inti- 
mately. My  first  impression  of  him  was  taken  when  I  was  about  eight  years 
old.  One  Sunday  morning,  it  had  been  arranged  by  my  mother  that  I  should 
stay  at  home  from  church  to  take  care  of  the  baby,  when,  suddenly  learning 
that  Mr.  Channing  was  to  preach,  she  sent  for  a  friend  to  come  to  do  that, 
and  took  me  to  church.  My  father  remonstrated  at  the  pains  she  took, 
becau.se  I  was  such  a  child.  She  replied, —  "  It  takes  Genius  to  really  teach 
a  child."  Going  to  church  was  a  very  tedious  thing  to  me,  but  I  got  an  idea, 
on  this  occasion,  that  something  extraordinary  was  to  happen.  I  was  sur- 
prized at  the  little  pale,  sick-looking  man;  but  I  remember,  when  he  rose  to 
pray,  he  looked  up  just  before  he  shut  his  eyes, —  those  extraordinary  eyes, 
and  there  was  such  a  sweet,  bright,  deep  look  in  them, —  a  look  so  much  as 


■WILLIAM    ELLERY    CHANNING.'  379 

if  he  saw  something,  that  I  was  impressed  with  the  idea  of  God's  presence  to 
hiiM.  M}'  father  was  a  diffident  man,  and  his  morning  prayer  was  always  in 
the  same  woids  —  our  ohi  minister's  prayers  also  were  very  uniform;  Dr. 
Channing's  "  Our  Father!  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  (so  he  empha- 
sized it,)  thou  art  God;  who  hast  loved  us  and  sent  us  thy  Son  to  tell  us  of 
thy  love,"  went  tlirilling  to  inj-  heart  witli  the  conviction  that  he  was  really 
speaking  to  a  very  present  heing  that  he  loved.  I  am  confident  it  was  the  first 
time  I  had  a  realizing  sense  of  an  inteicourse  between  a  human  being  and  God 
in  spoken  prayer.  His  prayeis,  as  I  afterwards  found,  were  always  for  per- 
sonal, spiritual  help; — directed  towaids  some  intelligible  human  dut}'; — and 
I  remember  I  felt  that  it  was  the  thing  of  things  to  have  such  kind  of  inter- 
course with  our  Fatlier  in  Heaven  as  he  had.  I  thought  he  must  have  gained 
it  in  his  liours  of  bodily  suffering,  and  reflected  that  such  suffering  might  pro- 
cure me  a  like  privilege. 

Some  years  after,  I  saw  him  again  preaching  at  the  Ordination  of  John 
Emery  Abbot,  who  became  our  minister,  and,  for  two  years,  lived  his  life  of 
love  and  duty  among  us.  He.  too,  had  the  gift  of  an  angel  in  prayer;  and  I 
associate  the  two  together,  for  John  Emery  Abbot  had  prepared  himself  for 
his  profession  under  Dr.  Channing's  direction.  When  he  died,  and  we  were 
all  in  such  grief  as  only  tlie  death  of  such  a  minister  could  inflict,  Dr.  Chan- 
ning  appeared  again,  and  delineated,  in  glowing  words,  the  character  of  this 
extraordinarj'  young  man.  A  year  or  two  afterwards,  I  went  to  Boston,  on 
occasion  of  the  marriage  of  a  friend  who  was  to  attend  his  church,  and  entirely 
for  the  purpose  of  heaiing  him  preach  six  weeks.  His  sermons  were  all 
addie.'^sed  as  if  to  persons  to  whom  Chiistian  culture  was  the  supreme  object. 
Not  a  word  was  said  of  any  technical  doctrine.  They  were  upon  patience, 
self-denial,  seeking  or  saving  from  sin  those  who  were  neglected  by  fortune 
and  education;  and  all  enforced  by  tlie  example  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  plan 
of  tlie  sermons  was,  after  stating  the  desiiableness  of  the  Christian  grace  in 
question,  and  the  hindrances  to  it  which  inward  dispositions  or  external  cir- 
cumstances might  offer,  to  inquire  how  it  was  manifested  in  Christ,  and  from 
what  view  of  God  and  man  it  flowed  in  Him  so  full  and  free.  In  the  interval 
between  which  I  had  heard  his  first  prayer  and  these  sermons,  I  had  heard 
nothing  which  seemed  to  me  so  like  the  genuine  food  of  the  soul.  The  Unita- 
rian controversy  had  arisen,  and  been  settled  by  the  division  of  the  Congrega- 
tionalistsof  New  England  in  the  mean  time,  and  I  had  heard  a  great  deal  of 
controversy,  and  my  wits  had  sharpened  themselves  upon  the  points  in  dis- 
pute, during  which  time  I  had  become  quite  a  logical,  argumentative  Humani- 
tarian. But  Mr.  Channing's  preaching  took  me  quite  out  of  that  kind  of 
thought,  and  opened  up  the  world  of  soul.  Do  not  say  I  am  talking  of  myself 
and  not  of  him.  I  want  to  impress  you  with  the  view  of  him  which  is  most 
characteristic.  He  took  part,  as  we  all  know,  in  the  Unitarian  controversy, 
and  is  considered  by  many  as  the  leading  Unitarian. 

I  was  extremely  intimate  with  him  for  years;  for  having  subsequently 
become  the  teacher  of  his  only  daughter, —  in  fact  going  to  Boston  to  live  with 
this  daughter  as  the  nucleus  of  my  school,  his  attention  was  drawn  to  me  with 
an  earnestness  derived  from  the  carefulness  of  his  paternal  affections.  Previ- 
ously to  the  formation  of  this  relation,  however,  I  had  opened  a  correspond- 
ence with  him,  in  consequence  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  moral  and 
spiritual  wants  of  a  certain  part  of  Maine,  and  thinking  that  it  needed  some 
such  instructions  as  I  remembered  having  had  from  that  six  weeks' preaching. 
But  I  had  heard  enough  of  Cambridge  Divinity  students  to  feel  that  their 
preaching  at  that  time  was  not  the  thing  for  that  place.  Their  fine  moral 
essays  and  sentimental  devotion  —  I  do  not  speak  scornfully  —  seemed  to  mo 
•vrhoUy  unadapted  to  reach  the  rough  and  coarse,  but  earnest,  hard-headed 


380  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

and  hard-hearted  pursuers  of  earthly  good,  who  looked  on  their  own  children 
mainly  as  live  machinery  for  the  production  of  wealth,  and  scouted  all  the 
objects  of  thought  that  were  not  addressed  to  the  appetites  of  the  five  senses. 
But  I  was  opposed,  as  a  Rationalist  and  Humanitarian,  to  the  revival 
preaching  which  I  heard  there,  and  which  seemed  to  me  like  a  Syren  song 
addressed  to  the  passion  of  self-love,  after  the  self-respect  of  the  soul  had 
become  crushed  out  by  fear.  I  thought  the  Cambridge  students  had  the  true 
doctrine  of  morals  and  meant  well,  but  did  not  know  their  field  of  duty, —  the 
naked  human  soul  ;  and  that  they  would  be  waked  out  of  their  literary 
dreams  by  the  sight  of  this  royal  soul  fettered  in  ignorance,  and  by  the  most 
sordid  and  selfish  passions;  and  so  it  was  worth  while  for  them  to  go  there 
and  fail  at  first,  to  succeed  afterwards.  He  sent  for  me  at  once  to  come  and 
see  him,  and  discuss  the  plan  I  proposed;  and  almost  the  first  thing  he  said 
"was, —  "This  Unitarianism,  which  some  people  think  the  last  word  of  the 
human  mind,  is  only  its  first  lisp,  the  vestibule  of  truth."  I  shall  never  for- 
get this  remark, —  rising  into  a  question,  and  most  earnestly  put,  as  if  he 
hoped  I  was  not  so  benighted  as  to  suppose  that  the  statement  of  the  creed  of 
Unitarianism  was  what  was  wanted  in  this  very  serious  case  of  spiritual  need, 
Wthich  I  had  stated  to  him.  I  hastened  to  say,—  "  Oh  I  know  it.  Sir  —  Uni- 
tarianism is  only  the  negative  of  a  Technical  Theology,  and  the  doctrines  of  life 
are  yet  to  be  stated."  His  anxious  look  cleared  away  in  a  moment,  and  he 
said, —  '<  Yes,  we  shall  walk  in  shadows  to  our  graves,  do  the  best  we  can. 
I  value  Unitarianism  only  as  a  charter  of  freedom  to  seek  Truth  from  God  and 
Christ,  wherewith  to  meet  the  Avants  of  the  soul  as  it  seeks  the  Truth  and  Per- 
fection which  is  its  destiny  and  happiness.  What  you  say  of  the  ignorance  of 
the  Cambridge  students  is  very  true  —  they  have  not  studied  much  except  in 
books.  They  would  be  powerless  in  such  a  field  as  you  describe  —  they 
w^ould  do  no  good,  though  they  would  doubtless  receive  some.  Could  an  expe- 
rienced person  go  —  Could  I  go!"  he  said  most  wistfully,  (I  have  a  record  of 
this  whole  conversation,  which  I  at  once  committed  to  my  journal,  together 
with  several  more,  which  were  held  in  the  commencement  of  our  acquaintance, 
but  the  rest  is  not  to  the  present  purpose.)  The  point  I  want  to  make  impres- 
sive is  the  sequestration  of  Dr.  Channing  from  the  whole  region  of  Controver- 
sial Theology.  In  my  long  acquaintance  with  him,  although  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, as  a  practical  power  of  real  culture,  and  of  social  benevolence  and  duty, 
including  national  interests,  was,  I  ma}"^  say,  the  perpetual  theme  of  discourse, 
and  notwithstanding  the  controversial  habits  of  our  religious  world,  he  very 
seldom  spoke  of  any  other  sect,  except  in  the  way  of  inquiry  what  truth  they 
probably  had,  which  Unitarians  were  liable  to  miss  through  their  reactionary 
impulse.  I  never  heard  a  word  of  scorn  of  any  person,  or  a  sneer,  however 
absurd  he  thought  their  views.  If  persons  were  of  a  timid  disposition,  or  of  an 
anxious  temperament,  he  did  not  think  their  opinion  about  leligious  doctrine 
of  any  importance;  because  he  thought  these  weaknesses  inclined  them  to 
dependence  on  the  prevalent  common  creed,  which  he  thought  was  driven  into 
people  bj'-  a  system  of  intimidation.  I  never  saw  a  person  who  had  such  an 
idea  of  the  debasing  effect  of  fear  as  he  had.  It  was  an  emotion  that,  I  think,  he 
never  experienced,  though  he  was  a  person  of  such  extreme  physical  delicacy. 
He  said  Fear  was  annihilation  of  man  in  its  every  degree, — the  very  opposite  of 
Reverence,  which  he  used  to  say  was  an  appreciation  of  the  sublime,  and  our 
ver}''  capacity  of  feeling  it  the  measure  of  the  angel  within;  for  each  of  us  was, 
as  he  thought,  destined  to  become  an  angel,  whatever  retributions  we  might  go 
through  on  the  way  to  it,  by  reason  of  our  estrangements  from  God.  He  used 
to  say  that  the  agony  of  future  retribution  would  be  in  proportion  to  our  capa- 
city of  revering  God,  whicli,  on  the  other  hand,  would  constitute  the  bliss  of  our 
happiness  when  we  should  attain  to  it.    To  be  severed  from  God  entirely  would, 


WILLIAM   ELLERY    CHANNING.  381 

he  said,  annihilate  at  once  pain  and  existence.  lie  always  averred  tliat  the  Bible 
was  vastly  fuller  of  the  attractions  of  love  than  of  the  threats  of  retribution.  Of 
course  he  would  say  the  latter  must  be  recognized  for  fulness  of  statement;  but 
the  former  predominated,  even  in  the  Old  Testament.  Tbe  principle  of  his  doc- 
trine of  the  dignity  of  human  nature  was  his  idea  of  the  paternal  nature  of  God. 
He  u.sed  to  remark  on  the  tenderness  of  Jesus  Ciirist's  pirsonal  addresses.  A 
soft-headed  sceptic  once,  in  my  hearing,  declared  that  Jesus  Christ's  address 
to  the  Jews, — "  Ye  are  of  your  father,  the  devil,"  was  not  the  language  of  love, 
&c.  The  man  seemed  to  be  stupid  and  really  puzzled.  Dr.  Channing  said  "  it 
was  the  language  of  earnestness,  not  of  vituperation;"  and,  going  to  his  table 
for  the  New  Testament,  he  brought  it  out,  and  went  over  the  whole  para- 
graph, explaining  the  situation,  and  most  vividly  calling  out  the  whole  scene 
before  the  mind's  eye.  lie  paraphrased  a  little  to  explain  the  whole  train  of 
thought;  and  proceeded,  repeating  the  words  of  Jesus  in  the  mostexpostulatory. 
earnest  tone.  The  gentleman  said, — "  Oh,  Sir,  if  he  spoke  in  that  tone,  I  have 
no  further  difficulty."  Dr.  Clianning  said  afterwards, —  "  The  words  of  the 
Bible  make  a  different  impression,  according  to  the  tone  in  which  they  are 
uttered.  Our  hearts  must  give  the  music  of  love,  or  it  is  profaned  and  killeth." 
Such  was  his  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  a  creature,  capable  of  coming  into 
the  presence  of  God  consciousl}'^,  tliat  he  shrunk  fiom  tampering  with  it,  or 
imposing  himself  upon  it.  lie  said  once  that  "  Jesus  Christ's  refusal  to  throw 
Himself  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  in  the  sight  of  all  tlie  people,  whose 
imaginations  such  an  act  would  have  mastered,  or  to  take  tbe  kingdoms  of 
this  world,  which  his  countrymen  would  have  been  so  deliglitcd  that  he  should 
do,  showed  that  even  the  Son  of  God  did  not  think  it  legitimate  or  pious  to 
take  possession  of  men  against  their  will,  or  in  any  other  way  than  that  of 
love,  which  is  perfect  liberty.  But  foolish  men  rush  in,  with  their  love  of 
power,  where  angels  fear  to  tread,  and  prove  themselves,  by  this  officious 
rashness,  the  fools  who  say  in  their  heart  that  there  is  no  God.  The 
greatest  thing  that  one  human  being  can  do  for  another,  is  to  encourage  him 
with  the  idea  that  God  is  always  coming  to  meet  the  prodigal  son  with  the 
best  robe  and  tlie  fatted  calf,  if  he  will  only  say, — '  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
Father.'  Mahomet  made  a  much  greater  immediate  impression  than  Jesus 
Christ.  Ilis  power  over  his  nominal  followers  to  this  day  seems  much  more 
complete.  But  it  is  the  power  of  repression.  Its  symbol  is  prostration. 
Jesus  Christ  gives  poioir.  Hence  his  burden  is  light  and  his  yoke  easy,  and 
his  most  devoted  disciple  seems  to  be  unfettered  and  joyous, —  eating  the 
fatted  calf,  and  wearing  the  royal  robe,  as  the  Sovereign  of  this  lower  world. 
How  unlike  those  whom  the  Catholic  Church  call  '  the  religious;' —  whom  any 
Church  that  we  have  yet  had,  call  <  the  religious  !'  How  cowed  and  coward 
are  the  tones  of  most  prayers  !  How  different  from  the  tone  of  Jesus  Christ's 
prayers  at  the  Last  Supper, —  the  only  time  of  which  we  have  any  account  of 
his  having  prayed  socially.  He  now  speaks  to  his  friends  with  the  most 
touching  tenderness,  now  to  his  Father  with  a  no  less  tender  confidence.  So 
He  would  have  all  of  us  live  with  Him  and  God  in  the  social  meal,  and  in  every 
scene  of  life.  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  on  earth  is  the  absorption  of  power  in 
love.  Religion  like  this  casts  out  sin  from  the  world.  Who  could  hate  his 
brother  ?  Who  could  not  act  and  feel  so  as  to  win  all  his  confidence,  and 
encourage  all  his  powers,  that  so  vividly  saw  the  many  mansions  of  the 
Father's  House,  where  every  variety  of  spiritual  constitution  could  find  a  fit 
habitation  ?  No  wonder  He  wept  over  Jerusalem,  which,  with  all  its  mad 
zeal  for  what  it  called  its  religion,  refused  to  follow  after  the  things  that 
concerned  its  peace.  Would  He  not  weep  if  He  should  look  upon  Rome,  or 
New  York,  or  Boston,  on  their  religious  high-days,  and  when  they  assemble 
in  their  ecclesiastical  councils  ?" 


382  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  the  last  year  of  his  life,  my  own  mind  was  drawn  to  a  view  of  Ortho- 
doxy quite  contrary  to  that  which  I  had  cherished  for  years.  I  began  to 
understand  what  truths  were  probably  in  tlie  eye  of  those  who  had  formular- 
ized  the  Athanasian  creed.  In  the  first  place,  1  thought  I  saw  what  the 
oiigiiial  Tiinitarians  wanted  to  expiess  respecting  the  nature  of  God  and  man; 
and  what  the  atonement  meant  to  Luther  and  Calvin.  My  mind  was  very 
strongly  moved  with  these  new  ideas,  and  I  seemed  to  seize  hold  of  a  philoso- 
phy of  religion  that  unlocked  and  explained  mysteries  of  my  own  experience, 
whicli  the  formulas  of  Unitarianism  did  not  cover.  There  was  a  young  man 
who  held  the  Trinitarian  creed,  but  who  repudiated  very  strongly  what  he 
called  "the  strategy  of  the  Orthodox  Church,"  and  the  "revival  system," 
■with  whose  remaiks  I  was  often  greatl}'^  struck,  during  the  excitement  pro- 
duced by  the  development  of  Transcendentalism,  under  Mr.  Emerson's  lec- 
turing, and  of  Naturalism,  under  Theodore  Parker's  preaching: — (very 
different  things,  by  the  way,  though  often  confounded  in  people's  minds; — 
and  there  is  certainly  some  relation  between  them).  It  is  enough  for  my 
present  purpose,  which  is  the  illustration  of  Dr.  Channing's  characteristics, 
to  say  that  I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  new  turn  of  my  thoughts,  when,  one 
day,  my  venerable  friend  and  my  exciting  young  philosopher  accidentally 
met  in  my  presence.  Dr.  Channing  elicited  from  him  a  statement  of  the  doc- 
trine of  irresistible  grace,  or  unconditional  conversion.  I  listened  with  a  great 
deal  of  interest  to  their  conversation,  which  was  quite  an  intellectual  battle. 
The  next  day  he  called  again,  and,  la^'ing  his  hand  gently  on  my  arm,  he 
said, — "  I  thought  you  looked  solicitoas  during  the  conversation  of  3'esterday. 
I  said, — "  It  was  a  very  interesting  subject,  Sir;  and,  for  the  first  time,  I  feel 
as  if  I  were  really  dealing  with  it.  I  never  doubted,  or  I  think  questioned, 
"what  freedom  meant  before."  "  I  would  not  for  the  world  interrupt  or  check 
your  thought,"  said  he,  very  earnestly;  "  but  is  anxiety  of  mind  favourable 
to  sound  conclusions  .'"'  <'  I  think  I  am  not  anxious  in  the  sense  of  fear.  Sir, 
but  only  in  the  sense  of  earnestness  —  I  do  not  feel  I  have  all  the  truth  I  need." 
"  I  would  not  for  the  world  throw  a  damp  on  earnestness  of  inquiry,"  he 
said;  "  it  is  only  by  grappling  with  great  questions  that  there  can  be  any 
progress.  Nothing  is  so  fatal  as  a  notion  that  we  have  obtained  all  truth  — 
we  need  more  than  we  have."  He  then  made  a  remark  on  the  subject  —  I 
cannot  recollect  it  precisely  —  but  I  remember  it  presented  the  idea  that,  in 
accepting  the  young  man's  sentiment,  a  certain  condemnation  would  be 
involved  of  some  other  person.  I  said  "Oh,  Sir,  I  shall  never  obtain  truth,  he 
says,  unless  I  risk  that  it  damn  all  my  friends."  "  He  is  right,  he  is  right," 
said  he — "  do  not  let  me  throw  in  the  way  of  the  single  operation  of  your  mind 
one  obstacle.  Follow  the  light  God  seems  to  you  to  give,  though  it  slay  you. 
It  is  only  too  likely  that  my  influence  over  your  heart  may  hinder  you  in  going 
towards  a  truth  which  seems  error  to  me;  in  which  case  my  friendship  M'ould 
prove  a  calamity  to  you."  Not  long  after,  I  met  him,  and  he  said, — "  Come 
and  .see  me;  I  want  to  know  what  you  are  thinking."  I  hesitated  because  in 
truth  I  was  trying  to  rid  myself  of  my  habitual  ways  of  viewing  subjects,  in 
order  that  I  might  get  a  clear  view  from  a  new  stand  point.  I  wanted  to 
think  out  certain  new  propositions,  and  I  felt  that  those  with  whom  I  had 
always  sympathized  could  not  aid  me.  He  said  kindly,— "  You  hesitate  — 
take  your  own  time,  but  you  know  I  am  interested  in  tchat  I  do  not  think  my- 
selj;  so  if  you  hesitate  because  you  are  thinking  another  way  from  me,  it  is 
misplaced."  I  went  to  see  him  a  little  while  after,  for  I  knew  exactly  how 
he  felt;  and  he  said  to  me, — "What  words  of  the  New  Testament  have 
acquired  any  new  sense  to  you  .'"  I  said, — <' Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans 
and  to  the  Galatians,  which  seemed  always  somewhat  whimsical  in  their  ex- 
pression before."     He  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  but  instantly  rose  up  with  the 


WILLIAM    ELLERY    CHANNING.  383 

most  lively  expression  of  interest,  and  seized  the  New  Testament,  put  it  into 
my  hands,  and  told  nie  to  read.  I  began,  and  read  as  expressively  as  I  could. 
He  listened  with  devouring  eyes.  After  a  few  moments,  he  said, — "  Para- 
phrase." I  did  so  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  but  very  bunglingly.  He  took 
the  book,  and  paraphrased,  and  said, — "  Does  not  that  give  the  meaning  .'"'  I 
said, — "  It  seems  to  me  I  feel  a  difference  in  the  idea."  He  said, — <«  What  is 
the  difference  .''  There  is  no  thought  that  cannot  be  expressed,  if  it  is  clear." 
I  tried  to  explain.  He  listened  earnestly.  At  last  he  shut  his  eyes,  and  said, — 
"  I  do  not' understand  what  you  are  trying  to  say — perhaps  you  do  not 
understand  all  /  mean  by  my  expressions."  I  said, — "Your  expression  is 
so  tine,  it  takes  away  my  own  thought;  but  I  have  a  thought,  though  I  do 
not  express  it  —  it  is  your  power  of  expression  that  master.'!  mine."  •'  Ah," 
said  he,  anxiously,  '<  does  it  ?  You  know,"  he  continued  with  a  smile,  "  that 
I  have  often  said  that  eloquence  is  a  snare.  I  will  say  no  more.  Get  posses- 
sion of  your  own  thouglit,  and  do  not  let  me  hinder  you.  I  should  only 
injure  you  by  putting  upon  you  ni}'  mind's  thoughts,  even  if  it  is  the  nearest 
truth,  and  much  moi'e  if  it  is  not  truth,  or  not  tlie  whole  truth."  After 
this  there  was  a  tacit  compact  that  we  should  not  talk  till  I  knew  what  I 
wanted  to  say  clearl}^  enough  to  say  it;  and  during  the  ensuing  winter  we  did 
not  meet  as  often  as  usual,  and  never  spoke  of  these  subjects,  but  only  of 
social  ones.  In  the  spring  I  went  up  to  see  him,  and  bid  him  good-bye  before 
he  went  into  the  country.  After  talking  a  while,  I  said, — "  Well,  Sir,  I  be- 
lieve I  must  go."  He  was  arranging  his  books  —  he  turned  and  came  towards 
me  with  both  hands  held  out  —  and,  taking  mine  kindly,  said, — "You  look 
well  and  happy."  "Yes,  Sir,"  said  I,  "I  feel  so."  "Shall  you  write  to 
me  this  summer  ?"  I  said,  "  I  do  not  know,  Sir;"  and  I  did  not;  for  though 
I  had  become  quite  happy  and  clear  in  my  own  thoughts,  I  was  not  yet  ready 
to  discuss  them  with  others.  He  looked  very  benignant,  and  said, — "  Take 
your  own  time;  but  if  you  learn  any  new  truth  from  that  young  friend  of 
yours,  or  any  other  source,  have  not  I  the  best  right  to  know  it,  of  all  your 
friends  .'" 

And  that  benignant  sustaining  look,  and  that  question,  are  my  last  recol- 
lections of  Dr.  Channing.  For  that  summer,  the  gentle  but  strong,  earnest 
but  untyrannical,  spirit  returned  to  God  who  sent  it  forth  on  its  peculiar  mis- 
sion. I  had  not  wiitten  to  him;  but  when  a  letter  from  his  son-in-law  told 
me  he  was  gone,  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  was  come  nearer  to  me.  I  felt  that 
the  difficulty  of  expression  was  now  gone.  Not  by  words,  but  by  recognition, 
possible  to  the  disembodied,  must  my  mind  lie  open  to  his  inspection,  accord- 
ing to  its  most  entire  willingness  and  earnest  desire.  I  had  a  conviction  that 
whether  his  or  my  paraphrase  of  Paul's  Epistles  was  right,  intellectually, 
there  was  underneath  both  these  intellectual  operations  an  identical  love  and 
desire  for  the  truth.  I  believed  that  his  faith  had  always  transcended  the 
formulas  of  Unitarianism;  his  spirit  had  gone  beyond  the  vestibule,  even  if 
his  intellect  lingered  in  it.  While  I  still  held  in  my  hand  the  letter  that  told 
me  of  Dr.  Channing's  death,  and  my  cheeks  were  wet  with  tears,  Mr.  Allston 
suddenly  entered  the  room.  It  was  the  rarest  thing  to  see  him.  He  was  in 
pursuit  of  some  artist's  materials.  I  said, — "  I  have  just  received  this  letter, 
which  says  Dr.  Channing  is  dead."  (Mr.  Allston,  you  know,  married  a  sis- 
ter of  Dr.  Channing  for  his  first  wife,  and  Dr.  Channing  had  always  kept  up 
with  him  as  intimate  an  intercourse  as  the  mutual  vocation  of  each  would 
allow;  and  although  their  religious  views  so  fiir  differed  that,  as  Mr.  Allston 
told  me,  they  never  conversed  on  religion  specifically,  I  knew  Dr.  Channing  had 
an  enthusiastic  appreciation  of  Mr.  AUston's  genius,  and  valued  every  manifes- 
tation of  it  as  precious.  .But  I  was  not  prepared  for  Mr.  AUston's  emotion.) 
He  went  backward,  turned   even   paler  than  usual,  and  sunk  into  a  chair, 


384  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

covering  his  face  with  his  liands.  I  felt  self-reproached  and  frightened  at  my 
abruptness.  At  last  he  spoke — "  lie  was  a  good  man  —  he  was  an  excellent 
man  —  I  loved  hiin."  I  said,  at  length,  "  You  knew  he  was  ill  ?"  "  He  was 
often  ill  —  I  had  ceased  to  think  of  iiis  dying  —  he  was  a  good  man  —  he  was 
an  excellent  man!"  He  could  not  think  about  the  errand  for  which  he  came. 
I  took  his  directions,  and  promised  to  do  so  for  him.  But  it  was  a  fortnight, 
as  I  afterwards  learned,  before  he  got  over  the  physical  effect  of  the  sudden 
intelligence.  Wlien  I  saw  him  again,  he  spoke  of  Dr.  Channing  free]y.  lie  said 
hecaredfor  no  one's  interest  and  opinion  about  his  pictures  so  much  as  Dr.  Chan- 
ning's.  '<  He  liad  a  line  imagination,"  said  he,  "  great  delicacy  of  perception, 
and  comprehension  of  idea  and  sentiment.  Colours  and  lines  and  dare  ob- 
scure were  language  as  intelligible  to  liim  as  if  they  had  been  his  own  organ. 
And  he  was  perfectly  honest.  He  dared  to  believe  in  his  own  feeling,  and  he 
expressed  it  severely,  but  never  coldly.  I  always  counted  on  his  doing  me 
justice,  and  I  never  was  disappointed.  He  could  not  flatter,  but  he  was 
generous  in  his  expression  of  pleasure,  which  is  the  artist's  only  adequate 
reward." 

There  is  no  time  to  stop,  my.  dear  Sir,  as  you  see,  on  this  theme.  My  let- 
ter is  already  too  long,  and  by  no  means  what  it  ought  to  be,  but  I  will  send 
it  to  show  you  that  I  have  tried  to  comply  with  your  request.  You  must  take 
the  will  for  the  deed,  and  get  letters  from  those  who  knew  him  so  little  that 
they  have  not  much  to  say.     I  feel  as  if,  after  all,  I  had  hardly  begun. 

Your  friend, 

ELIZABETH   P.  PEABODY. 


JOSEPH  STEVENS  BUCKMINSTER.* 

1805—1812. 

Joseph  Stevens  Buckminster,  a  son  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Buck- 
minster  of  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  was  born  May  26,  1784.  His  mother  was 
the  only  daugliter  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stevens,  of  Kittery  Point,  and  was  dis- 
tinguished alike  for  her  talents,  accomplishments  and  piety.  The  early 
developments  of  this  (her  only)  son  were  remarkable,  perhaps  in  some 
respects  unprecedented.  He  began  to  study  Latin  at  the  age  of  four,  and 
was  so  desirous  of  studying  Greek  also,  that  his  fatlier  tauglit  him  to  read 
a  chapter  in  the  Greek  Testament  by  pronouncing  the  words  to  him.  He 
was  distinguished  also  for  the  utmost  conscientiousness  and  purity  of  inten- 
tion. When  he  was  less  than  six  years  old,  his  father,  being  about  to  leave 
home  on  a  journey,  remarked  to  him  that  lie  must  take  liis  place  in  the 
family,  so  far  as  he  could.  During  his  absence,  Joseph,  accordingly,  spent 
most  of  the  time  in  the  study  among  his  fatlier's  books,  and,  when  the  hour 
for  family  prayer  returned,  he  regularly  called  the  family  together,  read  a 
chapter  in  their  hearing,  and  then  knelt  down  and  offered  a  prayer  so 
fervent  and  touching  that  even  the  domestics  of  the  household  found  it 
difficult  to  refrain  from  tears. 

Until  the  age  of  ten  Joseph  remained  at  the  Grammar  School  at  Ports- 
mouth ;  but,  in  the  year  1795,  he  was  sent  to  Phillips  Academy,  Exeter, 

•Memoir  by  Rev.  S.  C.  Thacher. —  Memoir  by  Mrs.  Lee. —  MS.  from  Rev.  Samuel  Dana. 


JOSEPH   STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  385 

which,  at  that  time,  and  for  nearly  half  a  century  after,  was  under  the 
care  of  that  eminent  instructor,  Dr.  Benjamin  Abbot.  Here  he  was 
scarcely  less  under  the  influence  of  his  father  than  while  he  was  under  the 
paternal  roof;  for  he  was  constantly  receiving  from  him  letters  of  the  most 
judicious  and  affectionate  counsel,  descending  to  every  minute  circum- 
stance that  could  have  a  bearing  on  his  conduct  or  happiness.  So  rapid 
was  his  progress  that,  at  the  age  of  twelve,  he  was  well  prepared  to  enter 
College;  but  his  father,  fearing  that  the  influence  of  temptation,  incident 
to  college  life,  would  be  too  much  for  his  extreme  youth,  was  unwilling  to 
risk  hiui  at  so  early  an  age,  and,  accordingly,  kept  him  back  till  the  next 
year.  Meanwhile,  it  was  a  matter  of  anxious  doubt  with  both  the  father 
and  son,  whether  his  collegiate  course  should  be  at  Harvard  or  Yale  ;  the 
son,  preferring  the  former,  on  account  of  some  associations  which  he  had 
already  formed  at  Exeter,  and  the  father  inclining  to  the  latter,  as  his  own 
Alma  Mater,  and  as  most  likely  to  secure  to  his  son  the  religious  influence 
which  he  considered  most  desirable.  The  result,  however,  was  that  the 
father  waived  his  scruples,  and,  at  the  Commencement  in  1797,  Joseph 
was  admitted,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  one  year  in  advance,  to  Harvard  Col- 
lege. His  examination  for  admission  revealed  his  remarkable  powers,  and 
left  those  of  the  Government  of  College  who  witnessed  it,  in  no  doubt 
that,  if  his  life  was  spared,  he  was  destined  to  become  a  star  of  no  cumiuon 
brilliancy. 

His  college  course  fully  realized,  in  its  progress,  all  that  was  promised 
at  its  commencement.  He  was  not,  indeed,  distinguished  for  his  atlain-- 
nients  in  the  abstract  sciences,  nor  could  he  be  said  to  be  fond  of  them  ;; 
and  yet  he  made  conscience  of  getting  each  lesson  well  in  every  depart- 
ment. It  was  in  the  study  of  belles  lettres,  and  whatever  pertained  to  the- 
department  of  criticism,  that  he  made  the  most  marked  proficiency.  His- 
college  "  themes  "  showed  a  richness  and  gracefulness  of  mind,  and  some- 
times an  extent  of  reading,  that  was  truly  remarkable;  and  his  reading  aad 
speaking  were  so  inimitably  beautiful  and  perfect,  that  it  was  very  com-- 
monly  regarded  as  a  high  privilege  to  listen  to  them.  His  Oration  deliy-- 
ered  at  the  Commencement,  when  he  took  his  first  degree,  taken  in  connee— 
tion  with  his  very  youthful  appearance  and  beautiful  form  and  face,  quite 
captivated  and  entranced  the  audience. 

After  leaving  College,  he  accepted  the  appointment  of  Assistant  Teacher 
in  Exeter  Academy.  His  mind  seems  now  to  have  taken  a  more  decidedly 
serious  direction,  and  it  was  about  this  time  that  he  ofl'ered  himself  as  a  candi- 
date for  membership  in  his  father's  church.  His  father  addresed  to  him 
a  faithful  and  excellent  letter  on  the  occasion,  reminding  him  of  the  solem- 
nity of  the  act  which  he  was  about  to  perform  ;  but  seems  to  have  had  do 
scruples  about  complying  with  his  request.  It  does  not  appear  that,  up  tO' 
this  time,  he  had  formed  any  definite  views  of  Christianity  different  from 
those  in  which  he  had  been  educated. 

During  his  residence  in  Exeter,  as  an  Assistant  Teacher,  he  commenced, 
a  course  of  study  with  reference  to  the  ministry,  and  it  was  here  probably 
that  his  mind  began  first  to  diverge  from  the  faith  of  his  fathers.  It  waa 
here  also,  in  the  autumn  of  1802,  that  he  waa  visited  with  the  first  attack 
of  that  terrible  malady,  (epilepsy,)  which  finally  carried  him  to  his  grave.. 

Vol.  VIII.  25 


386  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

The  following  passage  which  he  wrote  in  his  journal,  evidently  intended  for 
no  eye  but  his  own,  evinces  a  frame  of  feeling,  in  reference  to  this  afflic- 
tive visitation, which  every  one  must  approve  and  admire: — 

"  Another  fit  of  e])ilepsy.  I  pray  God  tliat  I  may  bo  prepared  not  so  much  for  death 
as  for  the  loss  of  health,  and  perhaps  of  mental  faculties.  The  repetition  of  these  fits 
must  at  length  reduce  me  to  idiocy.  Can  I  resign  myself  to  the  loss  of  memory,  and 
of  that  knowledge  I  may  have  vainly  prided  myself  upon?  Oh,  my  God,  enable  me  to 
bear  this  thought,  and  make  it  familiar  to  my  mind,  that,  by  thy  grace,  I  may  be 
willing  to  endure  life  as  long  as  thou  pleasest  to  lengthen  it.  It  is  not  enougli  to  be 
•willing  to  leave  the  world  when  God  pleases. —  we  should  be  willing  to  live  useless  in 
it,  if  He,  in  his  holy  providence,  should  send  such  a  calamitv  upon  us.  Oh,  God! 
save  me  from  that  hour ! " 

As  the  labours  which  devolved  upon  him  as  an  Assistant  Teacher  at 
Exeter  were  considered  an  overmatch  for  his  constitution,  especially  after 
the  fearful  malady  above  referred  to  had  made  its  appearance,  it  was 
thought  desirable  that  he  should  occupy  some  place  where  his  faculties 
would  be  less  severely  tasked  ;  and  a  favourable  opening  just  at  that  time 
presented  itself  in  the  family  of  his  relative,  Theodore  Lyman,  who  was 
glad  to  put  his  services  in  requisition  in  preparing  two  of  his  sons  to  enter 
College.  Mr.  Lyman  soon  removed  from  Boston  to  Waltham,  and  Buck- 
minster  accompanied  him ;  and  here  he  was  surrounded  with  all  the  ele- 
gance and  luxuries  of  the  most  refined  society.  At  this  period  he  was 
accustomed  frequently  to  visit  Boston,  and  he  became  particularly  intimate 
with  Dr.  Freeman,  minister  of  the  Stone  Chapel,  who  was  his  relative  by 
marriage  ;  and  it  was  the  opinion  of  his  father  that  it  was  owing,  in  a 
degree  at  least,  to  this  intimacy,  that  his  mind  had  received  a  bias  in  favour 
of  Unitarianism.  His  admiration  of  Dr.  Freeman  seems  to  have  been 
well-nigh  unbounded;  and  proposals  were  made  to  him,  by  the  Doctor,  to 
which  he  seems  to  have  been  somewhat  inclined  to  accede,  to  become  asso- 
ciated with  him  in  the  services  of  the  Chapel.  It  was  now  that  his  father 
became  fully  aware  of  his  defection  from  the  Orthodox  creed  ;  and  a  cor- 
respondence commenced  between  them,  which  was  continued  for  a  consid- 
erable time,  and  which  evinced  the  strongest  parental  affection  and  the 
bitterest  disappointment  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  deepest  lilial  reverence 
and  sensibility  on  the  other.  The  father,  more  than  once,  advised  his  son 
.to  direct  his  attention  to  some  other  profession,  not  dissembling  at  all  his 
conviction  that  he  lacked  the  most  essential  qualification  for  the  ministry  ; 
and  the  son,  merely  from  a  regard  to  his  father's  feelings,  had  at  one  time 
nearly  determined  to  devote  himself  to  literary  pursuits.  But,  as  the  father's 
opposition  seemed  somewhat  to  relax,  in  the  hope  probably  that  his  son's 
views  might  change,  he  was  finally  examined  and  approved  as  a  candidate 
for  the  ministry,  by  the  Boston  Association.  His  first  sermon  was  preached 
at  York,  Me.,  in  the  pulpit  of  his  venerable  relative,  the  Rev.  Isaac  Lyman, 
on  the  10th  of  June,  1804. 

His  intellectual  developments  had,  previously  to  this,  been  so  remark- 
able aad  so  well-known,  that  the  Congregation  in  Brattle  Square,  Bo.ston, 
then  recently  rendered  vacant  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Thacher,  immediately 
fixed  upou  him  as  a  suitable  person  to  fill  that  important  vacancy.  Here 
again,  his  anxious  father  was  distressed  at  the  idea  of  his  occupying,  at  so 
early  an  Age,  so  public  and  responsible  a  station  ;  but  his  wishes  were 
overruled  by  the  importunity  of  the  congregation,  who,  from  the  beginning, 


JOSEPH   STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  387 

were  enraptured  by  liis  eloquence,  and  resolved  to  leave  no  means  unem- 
ployed to  secure  him  as  their  minister.  The  result  was  that  he  was  called, 
with  great  unanimity,  to  the  Brattle  Street  Church,  accepted  the  call, 
and  was  ordained,  and  installed  their  Pastor,  January  30,  1805,  when  less 
than  twenty-one  years  of  age. 

His  father,  though  not  without  some  reluctance,  consented  to  preach  the 
Ordination  Sermon  ;  and  it  must  have  been,  in  view  of  all  the  circum- 
stances, a  severe  tax  upon  his  parental  sensibilities.  In  the  course  of  the 
sermon,  he  addressed  the  Pastor  elect  in  the  following  significant  and 
touching  manner: — 

"  Jly  Son,  the  day  has  arrived,  in  which  you  are  to  be  completely  invested  with  that 
office.  Divine  in  its  origin,  important  in  its  design,  and  beneficent  in  its  influence,  of 
wliicli  you  liave  beon  emulous  in  your  earlier  years,  and  which  you  have  always  kept 
in  view  in  your  literary  pursuits.  While  I  Iiave  endeavoured  to  restrain  your  ardour, 
and  check  the  rapidity  of  your  course,  motives  of  concern  for  the  honour  of  God  and 
for  your  reputation  and  comfort  influenced  ray  conduct.  But  a  power  paramount 
to  all  human  influence  has  cast  the  die,  and  I  bow  submissively  —  'God's  will  be 
done  ! ' 

"  In  the  hours  of  parental  instruction,  when  my  speech  and  affection  distilled  upon 
you  as  the  dew,  you  have  often  heard  me  refer  to  the  cheering  satisfaction  with  which 
I  presented  you  at  the  baptismal  lout,  in  the  name  of  the  Sacred  Trinity,  and  enrolled 
you  among  the  members  of  Christ's  visible  family — would  to  God  I  might  now  lead 
you,  with  the  same  cheering  hope,  to  the  altar  of  God,  and  lend  you  to  the  Lord  as 
long  as  you  shall  live.  But  the  days  are  past  in  which  you  can  depend  upon  the  offering 
of  a  parent.  To  your  own  Master  you  stand  or  fall.  God  grant  the  response  may  be, 
— '  He  shall  be  holden  up,  for  God  is  able  to  make  him  stand.'" 

To  the  Congregation  he  said, — 

''  The  heart  of  a  father,  alive  to  the  interests  of  a  son,  and  not  indifferent  to  jthe 
honour  of  the  Gospel,  recoiled  from  the  idea  of  hia  beginning  his  ministerial  eflTorts 
upon  so  public  a  theatre,  and  before  so  enlightened  an  audience  ;  and  the  hope  that 
longer  delay  and  greater  experience  would  render  him  more  equal  to  the  duties  of  the 
ministry,  and  more  worthy  the  esteem  and  respect  of  his  fellow-men,  induced  me  to 
yield  with  reluctance  to  your  early  request  to  hear  him  as  a  candidate.  But  since  your 
candour  and  charity  have  silenced  my  scruples,  and  your  afl'ection  and  judgment  have 
become  surety  for  the  youth,  and  he  himself  hath  said,  'I  will  go  with  you,'  I  yield 
liim  to  your  request  :  Bear  him  up  by  the  ai'ms  of  faith  and  prayer.  Remember  him 
always  in  your  devotional  exercises.  May  God  have  you  and  your  Pastor  within  his 
holy  keeping  !  May  he  shed  down  upon  you  unitedly  his  celestial  dews,  that  you  may 
be  like  a  watered  garden,  and  like  a  spring  whose  waters  fail  not !" 


On  the  very  day  after  his  Ordination,  Mr.  Buckminster,  owing  probably 
to  the  fatigue  and  excitement  incident  to  the  occasion,  was  seized  with  a 
severe  fever,  by  which  he  was  kept  out  of  his  pulpit  till  the  beginning  of 
March  ;  and  the  first  sermon  which  he  addressed  to  the  congregation,  as 
their  Pastor,  instead  of  having  special  reference  to  the  newly  constituted 
relation,  was  a  serujon  on  the  "  Advantages  of  Sickness." 

As  soon  as  his  health  permitted  him  to  return  to  his  active  duties,  he 
made  it  his  business  to  become  acquainted  with  all  the  families  and  indi- 
viduals of  l\is  congregation,  and  recorded  tlie  names  of  all  in  a  manuscript 
book,  together  witli  such  remarks  in  respect  to  various  characters  as  might 
serve  to  aid  him  iii  l^'o  pastoral  intercourse.  In  addition  to  his  numerous 
duties  as  a  par.sn  minister,  he  was  connected  with  many  of  the  public 
interests  of  the  day,  and  especially  was  one  of  the  most  active  members 
of  a  Literary  Association,  known  as  the  "  Anthology  Club,"  which,  at  that 
time,  concentrated  much  of  the  literary  talent  of  Boston  and  the  vicinity. 
It  was  by  this  Association  that  the   "  Monthly  Anthology,"  a  well-known 


388  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

periodical,  wliicli  was  continued  through  a  series  of  years,  was  conducted  ; 
and  it  is  understood  that  a  conssiderable  proportion  of  the  ablest  articles  con- 
tained in  it  were  from  the  pen  of  Mr,  Buckminster.  Though  the  Anthology- 
was  chiep.y  a  literary  publication,  it  was  not  altogether  silent  upon  theo- 
logical subjects  ;  and  the  history  of  the  Unitarian  controversy,  for  several 
years,  is  to  be  traced  very  much  through  its  pages.  It  sustained,  at  one  time, 
an  attitude  of  pretty  decided  anlagonisni  to  the  Panoplist,  long  the  accredited 
organ  of  the  Orthodox  party,  and  conducted  by  the  venerable  Dr,  Morse. 

The  labours  of  the  first  year  of  his  ministry  had  so  far  affected  his 
health,  and  his  terrible  constitutional  malady  returned  with  so  much  fre- 
quency, that,  in  the  spring  of  1806,  his  physician,  the  elder  Dr.  Warren, 
recommended  that  he  should  try  the  effect  of  a  voyage  to  Europe.  This 
measure  was  finally  concluded  upon  ;  for  his  congregation  were  so  much 
devoted  to  his  interests  that  they  counted  no  sacrifice  dear  that  seemed 
necessary  to  his  health  or  comfort.  Accordingly,  a  little  before  the  mid- 
dle of  May,  he  embarked  for  Liverpool,  where  he  arrived  on  the  6th  of 
June,  and  proceeded  thence  immediately  to  London,  where  he  was  received 
as  a  most  welcome  guest  in  the  family  of  Samuel  Williams  Esq.,  the 
brother  of  his  friends,  the  Lymans.  Early  in  August  he  was  joined  by 
his  intimate  friend,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher,  of  Boston,  and, 
shortly  after,  they  embarked  together  for  the  Continent,  and  landed  at 
Harlingen,  on  the  Zuydcr  Zee.  They  passed  rapidly  through  Holland, 
and  part  of  Belgium,  ascended  the  llhine.  and,  partly  on  foot,  made  the 
tour  of  Switzerland.  Thence  they  proceeded  to  Paris,  where  they  were 
detained  more  than  five  months,  in  consequence  of  nearly  all  correspond- 
ence with  England  being  cut  off  by  the  operation  of  the  Berlin  and  Milan 
decrees.  About  the  middle  of  February,  he  returned  from  France  to 
England,  and,  after  spending  the  intervening  months  in  travelling  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  Great  Britain,  reached  Boston  on  the  10th  of  September 
following. 

Mr.  Buckminster'a  tour  in  Europe  he  found  a  source  of  rich  and  con- 
stant gratification.  In  the  different  countries  which  he  visited  new  scenes 
and  objects  were  constantly  passing  before  him,  all  of  which  he  contem- 
plated as  a  most  careful  and  intelligent  observer.  He  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  many  of  the  most  distinguished  persons,  both  in  Great  Britain 
and  on  the  Continent,  and  on  some  of  them  at  least,  it  is  known  that  he 
left  an  impression  that  led  them  to  rank  him  among  the  most  remark- 
able men  of  his  time.  One  important  object  which  he  kept  constantly  in 
his  eye  was  the  selection  of  a  library  —  much  of  his  time  and  money  were 
spent  in  this  way;  and  the  result  was  that  he  brought  with  him  to  this 
country  perhaps  the  rarest  collection  of  books  that  was  then  to  be  found  in 
any  private  library  in  New  England.  He  was  often  solicited  to  preach  in 
Great  Britain,  and  finally,  in  a  few  instances,  consented  to  do  so  ;  though 
the  reason  which  he  gave  for  it  was,  not  that  he  supposed  his  services  were 
particularly  needed,  but  that  he  might  not  lose  all  familiarity  with  the 
pulpit.  His  health,  during  most  of  the  time  that  he  was  absent,  was  quite 
vigorous,  and  his  spirits  buoyant,  though  the  occasional  returns  of  his 
malady  could  not  but  fill  him  sometimes  with  gloomy  forebodings  in 
respect  to  what  might  be  its  final  issue. 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  389 

On  Ills  return  to  his  pastoral  charge,  it  is  liardly  necessary  to  say  that  he 
was  met  with  the  most  enthusiastic  demonstrations  of  good-will  and  affec- 
tion. He  seems  to  have  been  regarded  by  his  congregation  as  if  he  had 
been  a  .son  or  a  brother  in  each  family  which  it  contained  ;  and  his  first 
meeting  with  them  in  the  church  was  signalized  as  a  sort  of  religious  jubi- 
lee. His  Address  on  that  occasion  (for  it  could  scarcely  be  called  a  Sermon) 
was  perhaps  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  all  his  productions.  It  was  the 
simple  effusion  of  a  splendid  mind,  and  a  confiding,  loving  and  grateful 
spirit.  But  witii  all  the  rejoicings  of  tlie  occasion  there  was  mingled  some- 
what of  sadness;  for  it  could  not  be  concealeil  that,  however  his  general 
health  might  have  been  improved  by  a  year's  rest  and  recreation,  yet 
there  was  no  evidence  that  the  disease,  which  had  so  long  been  acting  as  a 
mysterious  canker  upon  Iiis  constitution,  was  dif-lodged. 

From  this  period  to  the  close  of  his  life  tiiere  were  few  incidents  in  his 
history  of  special  moment.  While  he  gave  himself  laboriously  to  the 
duties  of  his  profession,  he  cultivated  continually  his  taste  for  literature, 
and  was  ready  to  lend  the  aid  of  his  pen  to  every  effort  designed  to  pro- 
mote the  literary  interests  of  the  country.  He  became  a  vigorous  student 
of  the  German  language;  and  he  drew  upon  his  accustomed  hours  of  sleep, 
that  his  German  studies  might  not  occupy  time  that  was  needed  for  his 
professional  duties.  He  superintended  the  printing  of  Griesbach's  editiou 
of  the  New  Testament,  and  corrected  several  errors  which  had  escaped  in 
previous  editions.  In  1811  he  was  apjiointed  first  Lecturer  on  Biblical 
Criticism  upon  the  foundation  in  Harvard  College,  established  by  the  Hon. 
Samuel  Dexter.  This  appointment  he  accepted  ;  but  while  he  had  yet 
scarcely  begun  his  preparation  for  the  duties  of  the  place,  death  put  an 
end  to  all  his  earthly  labours. 

Mr.  Buekniinster  was  at  last  arrested  suddenly  in  his  career.  There 
had  been  apparently  no  waning  of  his  brilliant  powers;  though  he  himself 
felt,  in  common  with  all  his  friends,  that  the  seeds  of  early  decay,  perhaps 
even  of  idiocy,  were  germinating  in  his  constitution.  "Election  week," 
as  it  used  to  be  called, —  now  the  "week  of  the  Anniversaries," — came, 
bringing  with  it  to  him  more  than  the  ordinary  routine  of  duty;  for  he  was 
the  Preacher  that  year  before  the  '•  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Know- 
ledge, Piety  and  Charity."  The  Sermon  which  he  preached  on  that  occa- 
sion, he  repeated  in  his  own  pulpit  on  the  succeeding  Sabbath,  and  it  was 
the  last  sermon  that  he  ever  preached.  On  the  next  Wednesday,  the  3d  of 
June,  his  malady  returned  upon  him  with  a  crushing  weight,  extinguishing 
in  an  hour  the  last  gleams  of  reason,  and  impressing  on  his  case  the  stamp 
of  absolute  liojiclessness.  During  the  six  days  that  intervened  between  the 
commencement  and  the  termination  of  his  illness,  (for  he  died  on  the  9th,) 
his  house  was  continually  thronged  with  anxious  and  distressed  visitors  ; 
and  when  he  died,  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  town  went  into  jnourning.  It 
may  safely  be  said  that  few  cases  of  mortality  have  occurred,  which  have 
proved  the  occasion  of  such  universal  and  protracted  grief;  for  even  now, 
after  the  lapse  of  half  a  century,  some  who  had  but  a  transient  acquaintance 
with  him,  can  hardly  speak  of  his  death  without  manifest  emotion.  The 
Sermon  at  his  Funeral  was  preached  by  President  Kirkland,  a  part  of  which 


390  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

has   been   preserved    in   Dr.    Palfrey's  Discourses   on   the   History  of  the 
Brattle  Street  Cliurch. 

Mr.  Buckniiuster's  publications  during  his  life  were  not  numerous.  The 
first  was  a  Sermon  publi-siied  in  January,  1809,  on  the  death  of  Gov.  Sul- 
livan. It  was  one  of  liis  most  splendid  eiforts ;  though  it  seems  to  have 
been  the  subject  of  some  animadversion  at  the  time,  on  account  of  its 
supposed  political  bearings.  In  July  of  the  same  year  he  wrote  the 
Address  of  the  Massachusetts  Bible  Society  at  its  fir^t  formation,  which 
was  afterwards  republished,  with  high  praise,  in  the  Report  of  the  ]>ritish 
and  Foreign  Bible  Society.  I«  August  succeeding  he  delivered  the 
Annual  Address  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  at  Cambridge,  which 
was  publislied  in  the  Anthology.  This  Address  was  much  spoken  of  at  the 
time,  and  illustrates  at  once  his  fine  powers,  and  his  various  reading,  better 
perhaps  than  any  other  of  his  printed  productions.  In  May,  1811  was 
published  his  Sermon  on  the  death  of  the  Rev.  William  Emerson.  This 
contains  splendid  passages,  but  bears  marks  of  haste,  not  discoverable  in 
any  other  of  his  acknowledged  publications.  Beside  the  preceding,  he  pub- 
lished part  of  a  Sermon  on  tlie  Death  of  Governor  Bowdoin,  and  the  Right 
Hand  of  Fellowship  to  his  classmate,  Mr.  Charles  Lowell,*  and  was,  as  has 

*  Charles  Lowell,  a  son  of  Hon.  John  and  Rebecca  (Russell)  Lowell,  was  born  in  Bos- 
ton, August  15,  1782.  His  father  was  an  eminent  lawyer,  a  member  of  the  Convention  which 
framed  the  Constitution  of  Massachusetts,  and  was  appointed,  by  Washington,  Judge  of  tho 
District  Court  of  that  State.  He  (the  son)  was  a  student  at  Phillips  Academy,  Andover, 
under  Abiel  Abbot  and  Mark  Newman,  three  or  four  years,  and  was  afterwards  placed  under 
the  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Zedekiah  Sanger,,  in  South  Bridgewater,  where  he  completed  his 
preparatory  studies,  and  entered  the  Sophomore  class  in  Harvard  College  in  1797.  After 
graduating  in  1800,  he  studied  Law  one  year,  with  his  elder  brother,  John  Lowell,  Jr.,  and 
then  relinquished  it  for  the  study  of  Theology.  In  the  autumn  of  1802  he  went  to  Scotland, 
and  entered  the  Divinity  School  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  where  he  remained  till  the 
spring  of  1804,  when  he  proceeded  to  London,  having,  in  the  mean  time,  attended  the  Lectures 
of  Dugald  Stewart,  and  been  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  Thomas  Brown,  the  Philosopher, 
and  several  others,  who  afterwards  rose  to  great  eminence.  After  stopping  a  while  in  Lon- 
don, and  making  the  acquaintance  of  William  Wilberforce,  Bishop  Porteus,  and  other  persons 
of  illustrious  name,  he  went  to  Paris,  and  there  had  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing  Napoleon 
Buonaparte,  just  after  he  had  been  proclaimed  Emperor.  Having  made  a  tour  through  Hol- 
land and  Switzerland,  he  returned  to  Scotland,  and  spent  another  winter  in  Edinburgh.  In 
the  spring  of  1805  he  left  Edinburgh;  passed  a  little  time  with  a  maternal  uncle  at  Clifton, 
near  Bristol,  England;  preached  at  Bristol  and  Hackney,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  summer, 
returned  to  his  native  country.  He  had  expected  to  embark  a  week  or  two  before  he  actually 
did,  but  very  reluctantly  yielded  to  the  persuasion  of  a  friend  to  delay  his  departure —  the 
vessel  in  which  he  had  intended  to  sail  was  lost  in  the  ice.  On  his  return  home,  he  studied 
Divinity,  for  a  while,  under  the  Rev.  Zedcdiah  Sanger,  of  South  Bridgewater,  and  Dr.  Tappan, 
Professor  of  Divinity  in  Harvard  College.  He  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  West 
Church,  Boston,  on  the  1st  of  January,  1806.  He  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity, 
from  Harvard  College,  in  1823.  He  continued  sole  Pastor  of  the  church  with  which  he  became 
connected,  for  more  than  thirty-seven  years.  His  health  having  become  feeble,  Mr.  Cyrus 
Augustus  Bartol  was  set  apart  as-  his  colleague  in  March,  1837,  but  Dr.  Lowell  continued  his 
pastoral  relation, —  officiating,  however,  very  rarely, —  as  long  as  he  lived.  Soon  after  the 
Ordination  of  his  colleague,  he  revisited  Europe,  and  travelled  extensively  not  only  on  the  Con- 
tinent but  in  the  East,  and,  after  a  protracted  and  most  interesting  tour,  returned  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1840.  His  last  years  were  years  of  great  feebleness,  and  considerable  suffering,  but  ho 
was  able  to  see  his  friends,  and  occasionally  to  visit  some  of  them,  until  near  the  close  of  life. 
Ho  died  suddenly  at  Cambridge,  on  the  20th  of  January,  1861,  aged  seventy-eight  years. 
He  was  married  in  October,  1806,  to  Harriet  B.  Spencer,  of  Portsmouth,  N.  II.,  and  had  six 
children,  live  of  whom  survived  him.  Three  of  these  are  well  known  to  the  literary  public, — 
namely.  Professor  James  Russell  Lowell,  Rev.  Robert  Traill  Spence  Lowell,  an  Episcopal 
Clergyman  in  New  Jersey,  and  Mrs.  S.  R.  Putnam.  The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Lowell  s 
publications: — A  Sermon  on  the  Annual  Artillery  Election,  Boston,  1810.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  tho  State  Prison  in  Massachusetts,  1812.  A  Discourse  delivered  the  Sabbath  after 
the  Execution  of  H.  P.  S.  Davis  for  the  Murder  of  Gaspard  Denegri,  1817.  A  Discourse 
delivered  before  the  Society  for  Propagating  tho  Gospel  among  the  Indians  and  others  in 
North  America,  1820.  An  (Historical)  Discourse  delivered  in  the  West  Church  in  Boston, 
1820.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Richard  Manning  Hodges,  in  the  South  Par- 
ish in  Bridgewater,  1821.     A  Sermon  preached  at  tho  Ordination  of  Samuel  Barrett,  as  Min- 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  391 

already  been    intimated,  a    liberal    contributor   to   the    Monthly   Autho- 

In  describing  Mr.  Buckminster  in  some  of  his  relations,  I  arn  permitted 
to  draw  upon  my  own  personal  recollections,  though  they  are  the  recollec- 
tions of  early  youth.  His  person,  as  I  remember  him,  was  rather  below 
the  medium  size,  and  perfectly  symmetrical  in  its  formation.  His  face, 
wliich  is  admirably  represented  by  Stuart's  portrait,  was  a  beautiful  com- 
pound of  intelligence  and  bcniguity.  His  manners  were  as  simple  as  child- 
hood—  there  was  an  openness,  a  gentleness,  a  gracefulness  about  them, 
whicli  made  him  quite  irresistible.  You  felt  yourself  in  contact  with  a 
mind  of  rare  endowments,  and  yet  felt  nothing  of  the  restraint  which 
acknowledged  superiority  often  inspires.  In  the  intercourse  of  society  he 
was  as  far  as  possible  from  being  obtrusive,  and  yet  sustained  himself  in 
all  circumstances  with  freedom  and  dignity.  In  the  pulpit  lie  had  almost 
unparalleled  attractions.  With  a  voice  that  spoke  music,  and  a  face  that 
beamed  light  and  love,  and  a  calm  self-possession  and  winning  gracefulness 
of  manner,  he  lield  his  audience,  as  if  by  a  spell ;  and  though  one  might 
dissent  from  his  opinions,  he  would  find  it  difficult  to  resist  the  power  of 
his  oratory.  He  prayed  with  his  eyes  open,  elevated  at  an  angle  of  about 
forty-five  ;  and  yet  there  was  every  thing  in  his  manner  to  indicate  the 
highest  mental  abstraction.  His  gesture  in  the  delivery  of  his  discourse 
was  not  very  abundant  ;  and  it  was  so  natural  and  significant  that  it 
seemed  to  have  its  effect  almost  without  being  noticed.  He  belonged  to 
a  different  school  of  pulpit  orators  from  that  of  his  father,  or  Dr.  Mason, 
or  President  Dwight ;  but  it  may  reasonably  be  doubted  whether  a  more 
bland  or  attractive  manner  has  ever  been  possessed  by  any  American  cler- 
gyman. 

In  regard  to  Buckminster's  religious  opinions,  I  should  be  inclined  to  say. 
from  all  the  evidence  I  have  been  able  to  gain,  that,  on  most  questions 
which  have  since  divided  the  Unitarians  and  Orthodox,  they  were  not 
thoroughly  fixed.  Tlie  commonly  received  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  he  evi- 
dently rejected  ;  and,  in  regard  to  the  person  of  Christ,  his  mind  probably 
reposed  in  the  Arian  hypothesis.     Mrs.  Lee,  his  sister,  in  her  biographical 

ister  of  the  Twelfth  Congregational  Church  in  Boston,  1825.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the 
Ordination  of  George  Wadsworth  Wells,  at  Kennebunk,  Me.,  1827.  The  Trinitarian  Contro- 
versy :  A  Discourse  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  jDaniel  M.  Stearns  to  the  Pastoral  Charge 
of  the  First  Church  in  Dennis,  1828.  Union  of  Sentiment  araoug  Christians  not  essential  to 
Peace  :  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Dedication  of  the  South  Congregational  Church  io  Natick, 
1823.  Theology  and  not  Religion  the  source  of  Division  and  Strife  in  the  Christian  Church: 
A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  John  Langdon  Sibley,  as  Minister  of  the  Church  in 
Stow,  1829.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Second  Congregational  Church  in 
Milton,  1829.  The  \Visdom  and  Goodness  of  God  in  the  Appointment  of  Men,  and  not  Angels, 
to  the  Christian  Ministry  :  A  Sermon  preached  in  Berlin  at  the  Ordination  of  Robert  Folger 
Wallcut,  1830.  Men  accountable  only  to  God  for  their  Religious  Opinions  :  A  Sermon  preached 
at  the  Ordination  of  AVilliam  Barry,  Jr.,  to  the  Pastoral  Care  of  the  South  Congregational 
Church  in  Lowell,  1830.  A  Sermon  preached  in  the  West  Church,  Boston,  a  Quarter  of  a 
Century  from  the  time  of  the  Author's  Settlement,  1831.  Gospel  Preaching:  A  Sermon 
preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Thomas  B.  Fox,  as  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  and  Religious 
Society  in  Newburyport,  1831.  A  Discourse  (Historical)  delivered  in  the  West  Church  in 
Boston,  1845.  Sermons  Chiefly  Practical,  one  vol.,  12mo.,  1855.  Sermons  Chieily  Occa- 
sional, one  vol.,  12mo.,  1855.  The  last  mentioned  volume  is  mainly  a  reprint  of  those  which 
had  been  previously  published  in  pamphlet  form.  Dr.  Lowell  enjoyed  the  affectionate  respect 
and  veneration  of  all  classes  and  all  denominations.  He  was  never  willing  to  be  called  a  Uni- 
tarian, though  he  was  always  ranked  with  that  denomination,  and,  in  respect  to  the  char- 
acter of  Jesus  Christ,  he  held,  as  he  himself  informed  me,  what  is  usually  known  as  '•  the: 
Indwelling  Scheme." 


392  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

sketch  of  him,  has  funn.s])ecl  extracts  from  several  of  his  discourses  on  other 
doctrines,  such  as  llegeueration,  Atouemeiit,  &c.,  which,  however,  rather 
oppose  what  the  Orthodox  would  regard  a  caricature  of  their  views,  than 
attempt  to  defend  any  otlier  distinct  system.  lu  some  of  his  unpublished 
discourses,  he  speaks  of  the  death  of  Clirist  as  the  "  ground  of  the  sinner's 
pardon,"  as  "  that  which  rendered  it  just  for  God  to  forgive  sin  ;  "  though 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  his  later  sermons  evince  less  of  sympathy  with 
the  system  in  wliich  he  had  been  educated  than  his  early  ones. 

The  greater  part  of  Mr.  Euckminster's  preacliing  would  not  have  been 
complained  of,  except  for  its  omissions,  by  any  Orthodox  audience.  It 
sometimes  reached  a  point  of  the  most  impressive  and  overpowering  elo- 
quence.    Witness  the  following  extract  from  his  Sermon  on  "  Habit : — " 

"It  is  impossible  to  dismiss  this  subject  without  considering  a  common  topic,  *the 
inefficacy  of  a  death-bed  repentance.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  charity,  which  hopeth  and 
'believeth  all  things,  has  sometimes  discovered  more  of  generous  credulity  than  of  well- 
founded  hope,  when  it  has  laid  great  stress,  and  built  much  consolation,  on  the  casual 
expressions  and  faint  sighs  of  dying  men.  Far  be  it  from  us  to  excite  suspicion,  or 
recall  anxiety  in  the  breast  of  surviving  friendship,  or  to  throw  a  new  shade  of  terror 
over  the  valley  of  death  ;  but  better,  far  better  were  it  for  a  thousand  breasts  to  be 
pierced  with  temporary  anguish,  and  a  new  horror  to  be  added  to  the  dreary  passage 
of  the  grave,  than  that  one  soul  be  lost  to  Heaven  by  the  delusive  expectation  of 
effectual  repentance  in  a  dying  liour.  For,  as  we  have  repeatedly  asked,  what  is 
effectual  repentance?  Can  it  be  supposed  that,  when  the  vigour  of  life  has  been  spent 
in  the  establishment  of  vicious  propensities  ;  when  all  the  vivacity  of  youth,  all  the 
soberness  of  manhood,  and  all  the  leisure  of  old  age,  have  been  given  to  the  service 
of  sin  ;  when  vice  has  been  growing  with  the  growth,  and  strengtiiening  with  tlie 
strength  ;  when  it  has  spread  out  with  the  limbs  of  the  stripling,  and  become  rigid  with 
the  libres  of  the  aged;  —  can  it,  I  say,  be  supposed  that  the  labours  of  such  a  life  are 
to  be  overthrown  by  one  last  exertion  of  a  mind  impaired  with  disease,  by  the  con- 
vulsive exercise  of  an  affrighted  spirit,  and  by  the  inarticulate  and  feeble  sounds  of  an 
expiring  breath  ?  Kepentance  consists  not  in  one  or  more  acts  of  contrition — it  is  a 
permanent  change  of  the  disposition.  Those  dispositions  and  habits  of  mind  which 
you  bring  to  your  dying  bed,  you  will  carry  with  you  to  another  world.  These  habits 
are  the  dying  dress  of  the  soul.  They  are  the  grave  clothes  in  which  it  must  come 
forth,  at  the  last,  to  meet  the  .sentence  of  an  impartial  Judge.  If  they  were  filthy,  they 
will  be  tilthy  still.  The  washing  of  baptismal  water  will  not,  at  that  hour,  cleanse  the 
spots  of  the  soul.  The  confession  of  sins,  which  have  never  been  removed,  will  not 
furnish  the  conscience  with  an  answer  towards  God.  The  reception  of  the  elements 
will  not  then  infuse  a  principle  of  spiritual  life,  any  more  than  unconsecrated  bread 
and  wine  will  infuse  health  into  the  limbs  on  which  the  cold  damps  of  death  have 
already  collected.  Say  not  that  you  have  discarded  such  superstitious  exi)ectations. 
You  have  not  discarded  them  while  you  defer  any  thing  to  that  hour,  while  you  venture 
to  rely  on  any  thing  but  the  mercy  of  God  toward  a  heart,  holy,  sincere  and  sanctified; 
a  heart  which  loves  Heaven  for  its  purity  and  God  for  his  goodness.  If,  in  this  solemn 
hour,  the  soul  of  an  habitual  and  inveterate  offender  be  prepared  for  the  residence  of 
pure  and  spotless  spirits,  it  can  be  only  by  a  sovereign  and  miraculous  interposition  of 
Omnipotence.  His  power  we  pretend  not  to  limit.  He  can  wash  the  sooty  Ethiop 
white,  and  cause  the  spots  on  the  leopard's  skin  to  disappear.  We  presume  not  to 
fathom  the  counsels  of  his  will  ;  but  this  we  will  venture  to  assert,  that  if,  at  the  last 
hour  of  the  sinner's  life,  the  power  of  God  ever  interposes  to  snatch  him  from  his  ruin, 
such  interposition  will  never  be  disclosed  to  the  cnriosity  of  man.  For  if  it  should 
once  be  believed  that  the  rewards  of  Heaven  can  be  obtained  by  such  an  instantaneous 
and  miraculous  change  at  the  last  hour  of  life,  all  our  ideas  of  moral  probation,  and 
of  the  connection  between  the  character  here  and  condition  hereafter,  are  loose, 
unstable  and  groundless  ;  the  nature  and  the  laws  of  God's  moral  government  are 
made  at  once  inexi)Iicable;  our  exhortations  are  useless,  our  experience  false,  and 
tlie  whole  npjiaratus  of  Gospel  means  and  motives  becomes  a  cumbrous  and  unneces- 
sary j)rovision." 

Not  long  after  Mr.  Euckminster's  death  a  selection  from  his  sermons 
-was  very  carefully  made,  and  given  to  the  public  in  an  octavo  volume.  A 
ifew   years   later   another   volume  was   published  ;   and,  at   a  more   recent 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  393 

perioJ,  liis  "  works  "  have  appeared  in  two  volumes  duodecimo,  in  wliich 
are  included  various  extracts  from  his  sermons  which  were  printed  through 
a  succession  of  years  in  the  "  Christian  Disciple."  With  the  first  selec- 
tion of  liis  Sermons  was  published  an  interesting  Biographical  Sketcii  of  hini, 
from  the  pen  of  his  intimate  friend,  the  Ptev.  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSHUA  BATES,  D.  D., 

PRESIDENT    OF    JIIDDLEBURY    COLLEGE. 

Dudley,  Mass.,  March  20,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  In  compliance  with  j'our  request,  and  as  well  as  I  can,  I  will 
give  you  my  views  and  recollections  of  my  cla.ssmate  Buckminster.  You  wish 
me,  you  say,  to  write  you  a  letter  stating  my  '<  impressions  concerning  him, 
especially  during  his  college  life."  You  add,  "  what  I  wish  is  not  a  biograph- 
ical sketch,  for  the  means  of  that  are  already  within  my  reach;  but  simply  a 
brief  delineation  of  his  character,  as  it  appeared  to  you,  accompanied  by  any 
anecdotes,  which  may  serve  to  illustrate  it." 

Accordingl}^  I  begin  by  stating  the  recollected  circumstances  of  my  first 
inteiview  with  him,  and  the  strong  impression  of  his  supeiior  talents,  bril- 
lianc}'  of  intellect,  and  pj-ecocity  of  genius,  which  that  interview  made  on  my 
mind.  It  was  in  one  of  the  halls  of  Harvard  College,  in  the  autumn  of  1797, 
that  we  first  met.  We  were  there  on  the  same  errand,  waiting,  with  our 
books,  to  be  examined,  in  connection  with  three  others,  for  admission  to  the 
Sophomore  class  in  that  institution.  We  had  time,  before  we  were  called  into 
the  presence  of  the  Faculty,  fvv  mutual  introduction;  and  the  occasion  of  meet- 
ing at  once  excited  a  Tiuitual  interest,  and  led  to  a  free  and  familiar  conversa- 
tion. He  was  then  a  lad  of  thirteen,  small  of  stature,  delicate  and  modest  in 
demeanour.  .But  his  manly  bearing,  his  brilliant  countenance  and  dignified 
conversation,  produced  at  once  the  impression  on  my  mind  that  he  was  not 
like  other  boys; — that  there  was  in  him  what  I  had  never  seen  before  in 
one  so  young.  Indeed,  the  feeling  excited  in  me  was  that  of  wonder  and  admi- 
ration; and  this  feeling  1  never  lost. 

His  appearance  and  performance  in  the  Philosophy  Chamber,  while  under 
examination,  were  such  as  perfectly  corresponded  with  the  high  expectations 
■yvliich  my  first  impression  had  raised.  I  remember,  in  particular,  his  admira- 
ble reading  and  translation  of  a  iong  passage  in  the  Iliad  of  Homer.  He  read 
the  Greek  as  if  it  had  been  his  vernacular  language, —  with  ease,  fluencj'  and 
expressiveness;  and  his  translation  was  at  once  free  and  accurate,  neat  and 
comprehensive,  perspicuous  and  elegant.  Indeed,  the  very  soul  of  the  poet 
seemed  to  be  infused  into  the  beautiful  and  expressive  language  of  the  transla- 
tor. I  had  never  heard  Homer  so  read  and  so  translated  before;  and  the 
adunration  which  I  felt  was  evidently'  felt  by  all  present. 

A  similar  ease  and  elegance  characterized  his  subsequent  recitations  in  the 
class;  at  least  so  far  as  regarded  the  Ancient  Classics.  For  at  these  exercises 
be  was  always  present;  and  always  prepared  to  give  the  full  meaning  of  the 
author,  expressed  in  the  most  appropriate  and  precise,  as  well  as  pure  and 
comprehensive,  phraseology,  which  the  English  language  could  furnish.  I 
scarcel}"^  ever  heard  him  corrected  by  the  presiding  teacher;  and  never,  as  far 
as  I  could  judge,  for  the  better. 

His  written  compositions  in  English,  especiall}'^  under  the  fascinating  charm 
of  his  own  delivery,  fully  sustained,  through  our  college  course,  my  first 
impressions  concerning  him,  as  a  youth  of  uncommonly  delicate  taste  and 
exalted  genius.  I  distinctly  remember  the  thrilling  effect  produced  on  my 
mind,  and  apparently  on  the  minds  of  others,  by  his  Oration,  at  the  Junior 
Exhibition  of  our  class.     This  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  the  class  were 


394  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

permitted  to  exhibit  publicly  their  own  compositions;  and  to  liim,  though 
then  a  youth  under  the  age  of  fifteen,  the  fiist  part  in  point  of  rank,  the  only 
English  Oration,  was  assigned.  But  no  one  of  the  class  complained  of  the  dis- 
tinction; nor,  when  the  Exhibition  was  over,  did  any  one  express  a  feeling  of 
dissatisfaction  on  account  of  the  distinguished  honour  accorded  to  him.  His 
subject  was  "  Enthusiasm," — enthusiasm  in  the  best  and  most  enlarged  sense 
of  the  term;  and  it  was  illustrated  with  such  perspicuity,  and  exhibited  with 
so  much  force  and  elegance,  as  to  secure  univei'sal  admiration  and  the  most 
enthusiastic  applause.  It  seemed  to  me,  prepossessed  as  I  unquestionably 
Was,  and  perhaps  partially  blinded  by  that  friendship  which  had  grown  up 
between  us,  to  be  decidedly  the  best  oration  I  had  ever  heard  pronounced. 
Probably,  however,  the  extremely  youthful  appearance,  the  small  stature 
and  beautiful  countenance  of  the  orator,  exerted  an  inHuence  on  my  mind  and 
on  the  minds  of  the  enraptured  audience.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  indeed,  that 
the  impression  made  by  the  oration  depended,  in  no  small  degi-ee,  upon  the 
delivery, —  the  distinctness  of  articulation,  the  propriety  of  pronunciation,  the 
melody  of  intonation,  and  the  force  of  emphasis  and  expression,  together  with 
the  perfect  sj'mmetry  of  action,  and  completeness  of  enunciation. 

The  same  remarks  were  applicable  to  that  masterly  production, —  his  Ora- 
tion "  On  the  literary  characters  of  different  nations,"  delivered  at  our  Com- 
mencement, when  he  had  assigned  to  him  again  one  of  the  two  English  Ora- 
tions; and  when  he  fully  sustained  the  reputation  he  had  already  acquired  ia 
College,  as  a  beautiful  writer  and  an  eloquent  speaker.  Indeed,  while  his  style 
of  composition,  as  his  published  discouises  have  since  shown,  was  eminently 
pure,  classical,  simple,  and  j'et  elegant,  his  manner  of  delivery, —  his  leading 
and  speaking,  during  his  lesidence  at  College,  and  subsequently,  gave  the 
crowning  glory  to  the  productions  of  his  pen. 

In  i)roof  of  the  power  and  charm  of  his  reading,  I  might  adduce  what  I  dis- 
tinctly recollect  as  an  approved  remark  of  one  of  our  discriminating  class- 
mates. At  the  close  of  a  meeting  of  a  "  Composition  C.lub,"  when  Buckmin- 
ster  had  been  the  reader,  for  the  evening,  of  the  anonymous  pieces,  drawn 
from  the  secret  box,  it  was  remarked, —  "  When  Buckminster  reads,  all  the 
compositions  are  good."  No  one,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  could  read  like  him; 
and  give  to  every  letter  its  full  power,  to  every  syllable  its  distinct  weight  and 
inea.sure,  to  every  word  its  just  emphasis  and  appropriate  modulation,  to  every 
phrase  and  sentence,  their  precise  meaning, —  their  complete  and  expressive 
import. 

His  excellent  reading  was,  indeed,  as  is  always  the  case  where  it  exists,  the 
foundation  of  his  enchanting  eloquence;  and  his  eloquent  delivery,  as  I  said, 
gave  the  crowning  glory  to  his  compositions.  Were  3'ou  now  to  go  about 
among  the  elderl}^  members  of  Brattle  Street  Congregation,  and  ask  them 
what  they  think  of  Mr.  Buckminster's  published  sermons,  I  should  not  be 
surprised  if  they  should  tell  you  (excallent  as  tliey  consider  these  discourses) 
that  they  are  altogether  inferior  to  many  which  they  heard  him  preach.  They 
might  not  all  be  aware  of  the  cause  of  this  apjjarent  inferiority;  but  to  the 
'philosophic  mind,  accustomed  to  analysis,  that  cause  must  be  obvious  at  once. 
It  is  found  in  his  delivery, —  his  excellent  reading,  combined  with  the  beautj' 
of  his  person,  and  his  appropriate  action, —  in  the  various  qualities  which, 
united,  go  to  form  complete  eloquence,  and  constitute  a  perfect  orator. —  Such 
truly  was  Buckminster.  His  enunciation  and  expression,  his  brilliant  e3'e  and 
lofty  brow,  the  mingled  sweetness  and  strength,  solemnity  and  cheerfulness, 
intelligence  and  feeling,  which  continually  pervaded  and  animated  his  whole 
countenance,  while  speaking,  gave  to  his  discourses  more  than  half  their 
cliarms,  and  enabled  him  to  exert  an  absolute  control  over  the  feelings  of  his 
audience. 


JOSEPH   STEVENS   BUCKMINSTER.  395 

To  illustrate  my  n)eaniiig  more  fully,  I  will  relate  an  anecdote,  which  brings 
to  iiiiiul  a  human  countenance  in  complete  contrast  with  the  one  which  I  have 
attempted  to  describe.  I  remetnber  when  a  })ieacher  of  some  celebrity  came 
out  of  a  pulpit,  where  he  had  been  preaching,  on  a  secular  day,  and  I  asked  a 
keen  observer  of  physiognomy,  what  he  thought  of  the  talents  of  the  preacher, 
I  received  tliis  dry  but  significant  answer — "Too  much  margin,  Sir, —  too 
much  maigin  to  the  face."  And  I  remember  that  I  thought  at  once  of  my 
classmate  Buckminster,  as  furi'ishing  a  complete  contrast  to  the  object  of 
this  well-directed  sarcasm.  His  face  had  no  superfluous  margin.  It  was 
wiitten  all  over,  and  marked  in  every  part  with  biilliant  thought  and  glow- 
ing feeling. 

If  it  were  pioper  to  appl}'  tlie  term,  beauty,  in  describing  the  personal 
api)earance  of  any  man,  I  should  say  that  no  man  whom  1  have  ever  known, 
possessed  tin  d  inmts  of  this  qLiality  in  a  higher  degree  than  he  did.  And 
the  influence  which  this  had  on  his  j)()pularity,  as  a  public  speaker,  and  even 
as  a  Preacher,  was,  as  I  have  intimated,  by  no  means  unimportant.  It  ought 
not,  therefore,  to  be  omitted  in  an  attempt  to  delineate  his  character  as  an 
Orator.  As  he  stood  in  the  pulpit  and  delivered  his  message,  you  could  dis- 
cover no  defect  in  form  or  manner,  in  attitude  or  movement,  in  utterance  or 
expression  —  all  was  symmetiy,  propriety,  elegance.  He  was,  indeed,  a 
model  as  a  pulpit  orator  ;  and  his  personal  charms  and  elegance  of  manners 
forcibl}'  illustrated  to  my  mind,  by  positive  example,  the  wisdom  of  that 
negative  injunction  of  the  Levitical  law, — "No  man,  that  hath  a  blemish  of 
the  seed  of  Aaron,  the  Priest,  shall  come  nigh  to  offer  the  offerings  of  the 
Lord." 

Ml'.  Buckminster,  as  T  said,  sustained  the  cliaracter  of  a  distinguished  clas- 
sical scholar  through  his  college  course.  Indeed,  in  every  thing  pertaining  to 
literature,  ancient  and  modern,  he  made  himself  eminent.  For  in  this  direc- 
tion his  taste  inclined  his  inquisitive  mind,  and  his  powers  of  acquisition  were 
never  suffered  to  remain  inactive.  He  was  a  diligent  student, — an  industrious 
scholar.  He  wasted  no  time.  He  could  be  diverted  from  his  chosen  pursuits 
by  no  influence,  however  alluring  or  persuasive.  The  vain  amjusements  of 
trifling  minds  he  despised.  His  play  was  study.  His  recreation  was  profita- 
ble reading.  His  social  enjoyment,  generally  indulged  in  connection  with 
■wholesome  exercise,  as  he  walked  abroad  with  some  single  companion,  was 
instructive  conversation.  He  was  always,  as  Swedenborg  would  say,  in  the 
uses. 

The  result  of  all  this, —  of  his  great  powers  of  mind  faithfully  emploj'ed 
and  steadily  directed,  was  high  literary  attainments.  His  attainments  were, 
indeed,  comparatively  great,  not  only  for  one  of  his  age,  but  for  one  of  his 
grade,  during  every  period  of  his  college  life.  He  acquired  knowledge  with 
great  facility,  and  he  retained  permanently  what  he  acquired.  Books  of 
History,  Biography,  and  General  Literature,  he  read  with  uncommon  rapidity, 
and  yet  he  read  nothing  superficially.  The  rapid  nmnner  in  which  he  read 
was  indeed  most  remarkable,  and  often  attracted  the  notice  of  those  who  had 
opportunity  to  see  him  in  his  reading  hours.  For  while  engaged  in  reading  a 
folio,  he  seemed  to  turn  over  the  leaves  with  as  much  rapidity  as  most  men  pass 
over  the  pages  of  the  smallest  folded  sheet;  and  yet  he  saw  every  letter,  and 
caught  and  held  every  important  idea.  Children,  it  is  known,  read  by  sylla- 
bles; and  most  men  by  words  or  phrases;  some  perhaps  by  sentences;  but  he, 
and  one  otlier  person  whom  I  have  known,  seemed  to  read  by  paragraphs  and 
pages.  Whether  this  rapidity  of  reading  and  grasping  the  contents  of  a  book 
depended  principally  on  the  movements  of  a  rapidly  glancing  and  quick-sighted 
eye;  or  on  this,  in  connection  with  the  unparalleled  activity  of  a  mind  endowed 
with  the  high  gifts  of  genius, — on  bodily  and  mental  powers  originally  superior, 


396  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

early  developed,  and  kept  in  constant  and  unwearied  exercise,  I  will  not  under- 
take to  decide.  The  fact  of  the  rapidity  of  liis  reading,  and  the  facility  with 
which  he  acquired  knowledge,  however,  was  obvious  to  all,  who  had  oppor- 
tunity to  observe  him  in  his  stud}-,  and  become  acquainted  with  his  mental 
habits  and  literary  acquirements.  I  remember  that  an  experiment  was  once 
made  by  a  number  of  fellow-students,  of  whom  he  was  one,  with  a  view  to 
ascertain  the  comparative  rapiditji-  with  which  we  could  grasp  the  contents  of 
a  book.  Eacli  one  in  succession  read  aloud  as  rapidly  as  he  could  articulate, 
till  one  of  the  number,  without  previous  notice,  interposed  some  object  between 
the  eye  of  tlie  reader  and  the  book.  The  result  of  tlie  experiment  was  strik- 
ing—  it  v,as  found  that  Buckminster  could  continue  to  read,  after  the  inter- 
posed object  had  covered  the  printed  page,  for  a  longer, —  a  much  longer,  time 
than  any  other  member  of  the  compan\'. 

In  testifying  to  liis  high  literary  attainments  in  College,  I  intend  to  confine 
my  remarks  principally  to  literature,  in  the  limited  and  appropriate  significa- 
tion of  the  term.  He  was  not  a  man  of  science,  as  that  term  is  technically 
used.  The  Mathematics  he  did  not  love.  He  had  no  taste  for  abstract  studies. 
Above  all,  he  manifested  an  unconquerable  aversion  to  metaphj^sical  speculation 
and  transcendental  flights  of  fancy.  It  is  true  he  made  himself  acquainted 
with  wliat  may  be  called  "  the  literature  of  science."  He  knew  the  origin, 
the  progress,  the  state, —  indeed  the  whole  history,  of  ever}^  science  of  the 
age.  He  could  tell  you  who  made  each  discovery,  and  who  was  the  inventor 
of  the  instruments,  and  what  were  the  appliances  b}'  which  it  was  made.  He 
could  speak  learnedly  of  the  character  and  merits  of  the  philosophers  of  all 
ages  and  countries,  and  beautifully  illustrate  the  topics  of  literature  on  which 
he  descanted,  by  appropriate  allusions  to  the  success  of  scientific  pui suits, 
and  the  beneficial  application  of  scientific  principles.  But  heie  his  inter- 
course with  the  sciences,  especially  the  abstract  sciences,  ended.  The  princi- 
ples tiiemselves  he  never  investigated.  The  details  of  classification,  and  the 
tedious  steps  of  demonstration,  he  never  pursued.  He  had  no  taste,  as  I  said, 
for  the  study  of  the  pure  Mathematics.  Nor  did  he  relish,  at  all,  the  tardy 
and  entangled  processes  of  logical  deduction  and  metaphysical  disquisition. 

By  the  pieceding  statement  I  do  not  mean  to  intimate  that  he  neglected 
any  of  the  prescribed  studies  of  the  college  course;  or  failed  to  recite,  with  a 
good  degree  of  accurac}^,  the  lessons  assigned  to  the  class.  He  was  always  in 
his  place  at  the  hour  of  recitation;  and  always  filled  his  place,  in  the  view 
of  our  several  instructors.  But,  with  the  ]\Iathematical  and  Metaph3\sical 
Professors,  he  did  no  more.  For  example,  though  our  prescribed  course  of 
Mathematical  studies  was  then  extremely  limited,  he  never  went  be^'ond  the 
text-books  put  into  his  hands.  He  was  never  seen,  nor  would  he  have  been 
willingl}'  seen,  proceeding  from  the  College  library  with  Sanderson's  Algebra, 
or  Newton's  Principia,  under  his  arm. 

At  that  period,  very  little  oral  instruction  was  imparted  in  our  College. 
Few  public  lectures  were  delivered;  and  no  fiimiliar  illustrations  were  given 
in  connection  with  the  study  of  the  prescribed  text-books.  Our  recitations 
were  mere  examinations,  conducted  apparently  for  the  single  purpose  of  ascer- 
taining whether  the  appointed  lesson  had  been  faithfull}'  studied.  Of  course, 
the  acquisitions  of  students  depended  very  much  on  their  own  efforts  and 
ingenuity.  Every  one  had  much  time  to  devote  to  studies  of  his  own  choice; 
and  the  education  actuall}^  obtained  by  any,  was  much  moi'e  than  at  present, 
self-education.  The  kind  and  degree  of  each  one's  attainments,  therefore, 
coi'respondcd  very  nearl}'  with  his  taste,  capacity  and  etf'orts, —  his  genius  and 
industry.  This  fact  made  Mr.  Buckminster  a  man  of  literature  rather  than 
of  science;  a  scholar  of  high  order,  but  not  of  universal  attainments;  a  man 
of  learning  as  well  as  genius,  but  not  distinguished  for  deep  research  and 


JOSEPH   STEVENS   BUCKMINSTER.  397 

analytical  investigation;  a  model  in  matters  of  taste,  grammatical  accuracy, 
and  rhetorical  beauty,  but  not  in  logical  deduction,  metaphysical  discrimina- 
tion, abstract  reasoning  and  philosophical  criticism. 

Were  I  to  attempt  to  give  an  analysis  of  his  mind,  and  exhibit  the  promi- 
nent characteristics  of  his  intellectual  powers  and  habits,  especially  as  they 
were  developed  and  brought  to  view  in  College,  I  should  speak  of  the  fixedness 
of  his  attention  to  the  chosen  objects  of  his  contemplation,  and  the  perfect  com- 
mand which  he  possessed  over  the  current  of  his  associated  thoughts,  as  the 
first  and  most  obvious  quality  of  his  mind.  Ilis  perceptive  powers,  I  should 
admit,  were  quick  and  excursive.  Indeed,  this  has  already  been  stated  with 
refeience  to  the  rapid  movement  and  far-reacliing  glance  of  the  eye.  But  the 
statement  should  not  be  conlined  to  the  sense  of  sight.  The  remark  might  be 
extended  with  truth  to  all  his  organs  and  powers  of  perception.  For  they 
were  all  connected  with  a  keen  and  delicate  sensibility,  and  directed  b}' an  irre- 
pressible desire  of  knowledge.  Of  the  priuciples  of  association,  on  which  mem- 
ory and  imagination,  comparison  and  the  process  of  reasoning  depend,  as  they 
were  developed  in  his  mind,  and  exercised  in  his  literary  career,  by  which  he 
acquired  knowledge  so  easily  and  lapidly,  and  by  which  his  acquisitions  were 
held  so  firmly,  and  held  in  such  distinct  classification,  as  to  be  always  ready 
for  appropriate  use:  —  of  these  princij)les,  as  they  existed  in  his  mind,  I  should 
say,  they  were  those  which  belong  to  the  Poet  rather  than  the  Philosopher. 
His  mind  moved,  indeed,  habitually  under  the  control  of  the  will;  and,  with  a 
self-command  rarely  possessed,  he  was  able  toexclude  from  it  every  unwelcome 
thought  and  intruding  idea;  and  yet  the  associations  by  which  he  seized  and 
held  what  of  knowledge  he  chose  to  retain,  were  not  of  the  grosser  kind, 
involving  very  general  principles  and  abstract  relations  —  they  were,  as  was 
stated  before,  such  as  fitted  him  to  excel  in  literarj^,  rather  than  scientific 
pursuits.  The  analogies  on  which  his  associations  depended, —  which,  there- 
fore, furnished  him  with  a  clue  in  his  researches,  were  delicate  and  'flexible; 
and  yet,  as  he  followed  them  with  wonderful  rapidity  in  his  pursuit  of  know- 
ledge, they  became  rigid,  and  gave  him  an  enduring  hold  upon  his  knowledge 
as  soon  as  it  was  acquired.  Hence  his  memory  was  one  of  tlie  most  compre- 
hensive and  tenacious  as  well  as  ready.  Hence,  too,  his  imagination  was  at 
once  excursive  and  brilliant,  chaste,  correct,  and  rich  in  its  combinations, 
furnishing  copious  materials  for  rhetorical  embellishments.  Indeed,  it  may  be 
affirmed,  though  he  never  wrote  poetry,  he  was  "  born  a  [)oet,"  and  possessed 
all  the  elements  of  poetic  genius.  And  had  he  been  willing,  in  his  literary 
career,  to  stop  at  the  foot  of  Parnassus,  and  diink  largely  of  the  waters  of  the 
Castalian  fount,  and  sport  long  with  the  Muses  that  play  on  its  banks,  he 
might  have  been  inspired  with  the  spirit  of  poesy,  and  have  become,  in  his  day, 
the  Poet  Laureate  of  America. 

So  far  as  relates  to  moral  character,  Mr.  Buckminster  was  exemplary  and 
worthy  of  all  praise  and  imitation.  Nothing  of  duplicity,  or  meanness,  or 
indelicacy,  was  ever  seen  in  his  deportment,  or  heard  in  his  conversation. 
Ilis  social  affections  were  refined,  and  his  moral  sensibility  acute.  Ilis  con- 
scientiousness, as  phrenologists  would  say,  was  fully  developed;  so  that  you 
might  rely  implicitly  on  what  he  said,  as  truth,  and  regard  with  confidence 
what  he  did,  as  the  exponent  of  the  honest  purposes  of  his  heart.  His  friend- 
ships were  select  but  enduring.  Indeed,  where  his  social  affections  found  an 
approved  object,  the  attachment  became  indissoluble.  He  Avas,  accordingly, 
rather  a  ««  fast  friend  "  than  an  ardent  lover.  I  have  reason  to  know  that 
some  difference  of  opinion  on  subjects  of  deep  interest,  and  even  occasional  dis- 
cussion on  such  subjects,  had  no  power  with  him  to  shake  confidence  or  loosen 
the  ties  of  friendship. 

Of  his  views  of  religion,  and  his  predominant  sentiments  and  feelings  on  the 


398  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

great  subjects  of  our  relation  to  God  and  eternal  life,  while  a  member  of  Col- 
lege, I  cannot  say  much.  Indeed,  it  is  now  matter  of  regret  that  my  familiar 
intercouise  with  him  did  not  lead  us  to  such  conversations  as  would  enable 
nie  to  say  more  on  a  subject  so  deeply  involving  the  very  elements  of  charac- 
ter. But  religion, —  experimental  religion,  was  not  the  conversational  topic 
of  the  age  and  of  the  place,  when  we  were  at  Cambridge.  The  infidelity,  grow- 
ing out  of  t,he  Frencli  Revolution,  and  imported  into  America  in  "  The  Age  of 
Reason,"  had  diffused  itself  extensively  among  the  young  men  of  our  country, 
and  had  made  a  strong  lodgement  in  the  bosom  and  family  of  our  Alma  Mater 
Hence,  even  those  among  her  sons  who  felt  something  of  the  power  of  religion, 
and  a  steady  attachment  to  Christianity,  seldom  spoke  of  the  subject,  <<  one  to 
another." 

Whether  Buckminster  ever  read  the  writings  of  Voltaire  and  Paine  I  know 
not.  But  if  he  did  read  them,  as  a  part  of  the  literaiy  productions  of  the 
times,  I  i)resume  he  found  an  antidote  to  the  poison  which  they  contained,  in 
Bishop  Watson's  excellent  Apologies  for  Christianity  and  the  Bible,  which 
soon  followed  across  the  Atlantic,  diffusing  abroad  their  correcting  influence 
and  applying  their  healing  power.  It  is  true  he  was  not  a  public  professor  of 
religion,  while  in  College;  nor,  as  far  as  I  knew,  a  member  of  any  organized 
Christian  Church.  Indeed,  there  were  but  few  ill  College,  at  that  period,  who 
sustained  that  high  relation.  lie  was,  however,  a  member  of  a  religious  club, 
which  held  its  secret  meetings  in  a  retired  house  on  the  borders  of  the  village 
for  "  prayer  and  mutual  religious  improvement."  And,  as  I  well  remember,  he 
attended  these  meetings  with  constancj'^;  and  took  an  active  part  in  the  appro- 
priate exercises, —  in  turn  delivering  a  theological  lecture  and  leading  in 
prayer. 

Here  perhaps  I  should  close  this  already  protracted  epistle.  But  I  cannot, 
with  propriety  and  justice  to  the  memory  of  my  lamented  friend,  forbear  to 
add  a  remark  expressive  of  my  views  of  his  literary  career  subsequent  to  his 
college  course.  Though  we  both  left  Cambridge  immediately  after  our  gradua- 
tion, in  1800,  our  friendly  intercourse  did  not  cease  with  our  personal  separa- 
tion. We  immediately  commenced  an  epistolary  correspondence,  which  was 
maintained  till  we  were  both  settled  in  the  ministry; — he  at  Boston,  and  I  at 
Dedham.  From  the  period  of  his  Ordination,  our  intercourse  was  confined  to 
occasional,  and  not  very  frequent,  personal  visits.  The  intercourse,  however, 
was  sufficient  to  sustain  my  admiration  of  his  splendid  talents  and  distin- 
guished literary  acquirements. 

In  regard  to  Mr.  Buckminster's  theological  views,  I  do  not  think  I  can  add 
any  thing  to  what  you  are  alreadj'  in  possession  of.  I  may  suggest,  however, 
that  while  you  will  probably  place  him  in  the  general  class  of  Unitarian  min- 
isters, where  public  opinion  seems  to  have  assigned  his  place,  it  should  be 
remembered  that,  at  the  time  of  his  entering  the  ministry.  Unitarians,  as  a  dis- 
tinct and  acknowledged  religious  denomination,  were  not  known  to  exist  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  The  term,  indeed,  may  have  been  occasionally  ap- 
plied to  a  few  ministers  and  laymen;  but  it  was  seldom  allowed  to  be  appro- 
priatel}'  applied  by  those  to  whom  the  name  was  given.  Sure  I  am  that  Mr. 
Buckminster  never  took  the  name  upon  himself,  nor  used  it  as  a  distinctive 
term,  significant  of  his  own  faith.  He  was  not  a  sectarian  in  feeling,  nor  a 
controversialist  in  practice,  nor  was  anything  of  the  odium  thcologicmn  fairly 
attributable  to  him.  However  you  may  be  compelled  to  reject  some  of  his 
reasonings  as  a  Biblical  critic,  and  dissent  from  some  of  the  conclusions  to 
which  he  came,  in  applying  the  rules  of  classification,  and  selection  of  differ- 
ent manuscript  readings,  as  an  editor  of  Griesbach's  Greek  Testament,  you 
will  not  fail  to  admire  the  candour  and  evident  honesty  of  mind  displayed  io 
all  his  critical  and  theological  discussions. 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  399 

In  conclusion,  and  in  accordance  with  your  request  that  I  would  give  my 
own  personal  impressions  concerning  my  deceased  friend  and  classmate,  lather 
than  attempt  to  delineate  his  character,  I  subjoin  the  following  strong  but  sin- 
cere remark  :  Among  all  my  literary  friends  in  College,  and  during  a  long  life 
of  familiarity  with  men  distinguished  in  the  several  departments  of  learning, 
and  the  learned  professions,  in  various  portions  of  our  country,  1  have  never 
found  one,  who  seemed  to  me  to  possess  more  of  that  indescribable  character 
of  mind,  or  rather,  I  should  say.  a  more  complete  combination  of  those  intel- 
lectual powers  and  susceptibilities,  which  we  usually  denominate  genius,  than 
Joseph' Stevens  Buckminster.  I  have  known  men  of  more  universal  schol- 
arship; and  men  of  more  dazzling  wit  —  indeed  I  was  about  to  modify  the 
preceding  general  remark,  and  make  an  exception  in  favour  of  Fisher  Ames, 
who,  in  some  I'espects,  especially  in  the  sudden  bursts  of  eloquence,  and  the 
brilliant  train  of  thought,  and  nch  display  of  metaphor,  which  marked  his 
public  speeches,  and  even  his  private  conversation,  certainly  excelled  all  men 
of  my  acquaintance.  But,  notwithstanding  this  modification  and  jjartial 
exception,  I  can  make  no  essential  abatement  from  the  general  remark, 
expressive  of  my  admiration  of  Buckminster's  genius.  He,  indeed,  furnished 
my  standard  of  genius.  For  his  was  a  genius,  pure  and  elevated,  stead}'  and 
uniform  in  its  movements,  exempt  from  the  depressions  of  morbid  sensibility 
and  the  erratic  flights  of  spasmodic  action,  exhibiting  in  his  conversation  and 
writings  nothing  of  that  mental  mania  and  moral  delinquency,  of  those  impi- 
ous speculations  and  unholy  associations,  which  have  so  often  marred  the 
works,  and  stained  the  character,  of  men  of  acknowledged  genius  and  splendid 
talents.  And  it  gives  me  no  small  pleasure, —  though  a  pleasure,  chastened 
by  many  melanchol}'  recollections  and  monitory  lessons, —  to  make  this  state- 
ment, and  bear  niy  testimony  to  the  high  qualities  and  excellent  character  of 
one  I  loved  so  well. 

AVith  great  respect,  yours  in  the  fellowship  of  the  Gospel, 

JOSHUA  BATES.  ' 

FROM  THE  HON.  EDWARD  EVERETT,  LL.  D. 

Cambridge,  12th  April,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  fear  3'ou  Avill  think  I  have  forgotten  my  promise  to  commu- 
nicate to  you  my  recollections  of  Mr.  Buckminster.  Such  is  not  the  case; 
but  it  is  only  within  the  last  two  months  that  I  have  had  much  leisure  for 
any  thing  beyond  the  dail}'  routine  of  my  official  duties.  One  of  the  first  things 
to  which  I  have  turned  my  thoughts,  in  acquiring  some  little  control  of  my 
time,  has  been  the  fulfilment  of  my  engagement  with  you. 

Shortly  after  I  promised  to  write  you  a  letter  on  this  subject,  Mrs.  Lee 
made  a  similar  request.  Understanding  that  her  Life  of  lier  brother  was  in 
a  course  of  immediate  preparation,  I  have  thought  you  would  not  take  it  amiss 
if  my  first  communication  was  addressed  to  her.  The  priority,  however,  is 
verj'  trifling.  I  enclose  you  a  copy  of  my  letter  to  her,  which  is  quite  at  your 
service  for  any  use  you  wish  to  make  of  it,  except  that  it  ought  not  to  appear 
in  print  before  the  publication  of  her  book.  lam  the  rather  led  to  send  you 
a  copy  of  this  letter,  because  it  will  sufficiently  explain  to  you  the  scantiness 
of  my  personal  recollections  of  Mr.  Buckminster.  I  knew  him  as  a  child 
knows  his  family  pastor,  and  as  a  youth  at  College  knows  a  kind  friend,  who 
takes  some  friendl}'  interest  in  his  studies.  1  was  too  young  at  the  time  of  his 
decease  to  have  been  admitted  by  him  into  any  thing  which  could  be  called 
intimacy, —  still  less  into  any  community  of  studies  or  speculations. 

Without  enlarging  upon  those  topics,  which  form  the  subject  of  my  letter  to 
Mrs.  Lee,  I  will  add  to  them  a  remark  or  two  on  what  seems  to  me  worthy  of 


400  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

particular  remembrance  in  connection  with  Mr.  Buckminster's  character  as  a 
Theohigian  and  a  Scholar. 

If  1  mistake  not,  he  gave  the  first  impulse  in  this  vicinity,  if  not  in  the 
United  Slates,  to  the  systematic  study  of  "  Biblical  Criticism."  It  is  no  great 
reproach  to  the  Theology  of  this  country  to  tiace  to  so  recent  an  origin  the 
cultivation  of  this  important  department,  for  it  was  taken  up  quite  as  early 
here  as  in  England.  It  took  its  rise,  I  believe,  in  botli  countries,  from  Maisli's 
translations  of  the  Introduction  of  Michaelis  to  the  New  Testament; — a  work 
to  which  I  have  understood  Mr.  Buckminster  gave  its  first  notoriety  in  this 
country.  It  is  now,  as  I  understand,  not  much  read;  in  his  time,  it  was 
regarded  as  a  kind  of  text-book.  It  was  he,  too,  who  made  the  fii'st  move- 
ment to  carry  into  effect  the  liberal  intentions  of  Mr.  Samuel  Dexter  the 
elder,  who,  in  1799,  made  provision  for  a  bequest  to  the  University  here, 
(realized  in  1811,)  for  the  foundation  of  a  Lectureship  on  Sacred  Criticism.  I 
have  in  my  possession  a  paper,  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Buckminster,  for  the  purpose 
of  calling  the  attention  of  the  liberal  and  affluent  to  this  subject,  and  he  was 
himself  chosen  the  first  Dexter  Lecturer.  He  addressed  himself  strenuously 
to  the  preparation  for  the  duties  of  this  appointment,  but  he  did  not  live  to 
enter  upon  tlieir  performance. 

These  critical  studies,  once  so  popular,  now  seem  to  be  rapidly  becoming 
obsolete.  Whether  the  sort  of  speculations  which  has  superseded  them,  is  in 
its  nature  more  important,  or  in  its  tendency''  more  salutary,  is  a  problem  of 
which  our  children  will  witness  the  practical  solution.  Mr.  Buckminster 
thought  that  the  solid  foundation  of  ail  true  Theology  was  to  be  laid  in  the 
diligent  study  of  the  Scriptures  in  the  original  tongues,  under  the  lights  of  an 
intelligent  and  conscientious  criticism.  It  is  perhaps  not  the  least  recommen- 
dation of  this  view  that  it  leads  directly  to  the  cultivation  of  the  congenial 
branches  of  ancient  and  philological  literature,  and  thus  establishes  a  safe- 
guard against  individual  extravagancies  and  wild  speculative  novelties.  It  is 
dangerous  to  take  any  department  of  enquiry  out  of  the  recognized  analogies 
of  the  human  mind.  The  modern  Transcendentalism,  like  the  ancient  Mysti- 
cism, claims  to  have  a  province  of  its  own;  not  requiring,  hardly  inviting, 
illustration  from  any  other  quarter.  A  taste  for  Biblical  Philology  can  hardly 
exist  and  be  cultivated  without  a  general  acquaintance  with  ancient  literature. 
They  were  eminently  united  in  Mr.  Buckminster.  lie  was  certainly  one  of 
the  very  best  scholars  of  the  day.  lie  read  the  ancient  authors  for  the  pleas- 
ure which  their  perusal  afforded  him,  and  was  well  versed  in  the  criticism  of 
the  German,  French  and  English  schools. 

He  was  called  away  too  soon  to  have  found  many  occasions  for  the  display  of 
his  reading,  if  indeed  one  ought  to  use  the  word  display  in  reference  to  the 
public  appearances  of  a  person  so  free  from  every  form  of  ostentation.  The 
Address  at  Cambridge  in  1809  shows  the  scholar  in  every  paragraph.  The 
noble  library  which  Mr.  Buckminster  selected  in  Europe,  at  the  very  opening 
of  his  short  career,  was  of  itself  a  sufficient  proof  of  his  extensive  acquain- 
tance with  books. 

It  is  my  impression,  though  this  belongs  to  a  period  rather  before  my  time, 
that  Mr.  Buckminster  was  among  the  very  first  who  introduced  the  study  of 
Bibliography  into  this  part  of  the  country.  I  am  unable  to  say  what  may 
have  been  the  case  at  New  York,  or  Philadelphia,  or  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
respectable  places  of  education  in  other  parts  of  the  country;  but  in  this 
vicinity,  before  Mr.  Buckminster's  time,  I  believe  there  had  been  no  library 
of  any  considerable  size,  rich  at  once  in  sacred  and  classical  literature;  per- 
haps but  one,  (that  of  the  late  Mr.  John  Pickering,  collected  a  few  years 
before  and  immediately  dispersed,)  which  was  rich  in  either.  I  do  not,  of 
course,  mean  that  there  were  no  valuable  private  collections,  but  I  think  there 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  401 

was  none  of  an}'  great  size;  certainly  none  which  contained  the  recent  German 
editions.  Mr.  Buckniiiister's  library  contained  all  the  classics  of  both  lan- 
guages, in  the  best  working  editions.  The  principal  works  on  Ancient  History, 
Philosophy,  Literature  and  Art,  and  a  very  complete  collection  in  every  depart- 
ment of  Sacred  Criticism  and  Philology;  besides  the  principal  niiscellaneour 
works  wliich  belong  to  a  well-selected  general  library.  The  affecting  manner 
in  which,  in  his  diary,  he  alludes  to  the  probability  that,  owing  to  his  pre- 
carious state  of  health,  his  own  enjoyment  of  his  literary  treasures  might 
be  of  short  duration,  shows  us  to  what  an  extent  the  thought  of  his  malady 
gave  a  complexion  to  his  life.  A  young  scholar  justifies  the  time  and  expense 
bestowed  on  the  purchase  of  a  library,  on  the  ground  that,  when  he  is  gone, 
the  books  will  benefit  those  who  succeed  him! 

You  will  not  regard  these  somewhat  desultory  remarks  as  any  attempt  at 
a  sketch  of  the  character  of  our  beloved  and  lamented  friend,  of  which  indeed, 
after  the  admirable  memoirs  prefixed  to  the  collection  of  his  sermons,  there  is 
no  need.  I  have  aimed  only,  in  compliance  with  your  request,  to  awaken  a 
desire  in  those  who  are  succeeding  us,  to  study  more  carefully  than  they 
might  otherwise  do,  the  cluiracter  and  writings  of  one,  whose  career,  however 
brilliant,  was  but  a  bright  promise  of  greater  things  mournfully  disap- 
pointed : — 

O.stendunt  terris  banc  tantura  fata  neque  ultra 
Esse  siuunt: 

I  remain,  my  dear  Sir,  with  great  esteem. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

EDWARD   EVERETT. 

The  following  is  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Lee,  above  referred  to. 

Cambridge,  April  10,  1849. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Lee:  I  am  quite  ashamed  to  find  how  long  it  is  since  youi 
requested  me  to  give  you  my  recollections  of  j'^our  brother.  I  regret  it  the 
more  because,  in  sitting  down  to  fulfil  the  long-postponed,  but  not  forgotten, 
promise,  I  feel  that  I  shall  hardly  fail  to  disappoint  you.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
that  my  brief  intercourse  with  him  produced,  at  the  time,  a  most  powerful 
effect  upon  me.  ^ly  imagination  was  dazzled  with  the  splendour  of  his  public 
appearance,  and  my  affections  entirely  won  by  the  kindness  which  he  showed 
me  in  private.  But  our  relations  were  brought  to  an  untimely  close,  while  I 
■was  yet  too  J^oung  to  have  entered  into  the  depths  of  his  character;  and 
thirty-seven  somewhat  crowded  and  eventful  years,  wliich  ha\e  since  passed 
over  me,  have  necessarily  impaired  the  distinctness  of  my  recollections. 

The  difference  of  age  between  us  (ten  years)  would  not  be  thought  great 
between  two  grown  men;  but  between  a  youth  of  eighteen  who  had  just  left 
College,  and  a  person  who  had  for  several  years  been  placed  in  one  of  the 
most  arduous  and  responsible  stations  in  the  community,  and  who  filled 
it  with  a  weight  of  character  and  a  maturity  of  power  far  beyond  his  time  of 
life,  the  difference  was  nearly  as  great  as  that  between  boyhood  and  age. 
I  suppose  there  never  was  an  individual,  who,  from  his  first  entrance  upon 
manly  engagements  and  duties,  left  behind  him  more  completelj'^  than  your 
brother  all  the  levities  —  the  innocent  levities  I  mean, —  for  he  could  have  ,no 
other — of  youth.  In  fact,  I  should  infer  from  the  recollections  of  his  earliest 
years,  of  which  his  sister  has  preserved  us  so  beautiful  and  affecting  a  record, 
that  he  exhibited  from  the  very  morning  of  life  a  calm  dignity  of  temper  and 
manner,  which  made  the  transition  from  youth  to  manhood  almost  impercept- 
ible. 

Vol.  VIII.  26 


402  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Certainly,  from  the  earliest  period  at  which  I  recollect  him,  and  when  he 
■was  but  about  twenty-one  or  two  years  of  age,  I  looked  up  to  him  with 
emotions  in  which  reverence  was  by  far  the  predominant  feeling.  I  cannot 
sa}^  that  I  was  at  any  time  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  him.  Our  personal 
acquaintance  commenced  with  the  attendance  of  my  mother's  family  at  the 
Church  in  Brattle  Street,  which  did  not,  I  think,  begin  till  his  return  from 
Europe.  This  was  about  the  time  of  my  entering  College;  and,  as  the  stu- 
dents were  not  permitted  to  pass  Sunda3's  at  home,  I  did  not  enjoy  the  privi- 
lege of  hearing  him  preach  except  in  vacations.  A  year  or  two  later,  I  began 
to  call  upon  him  occasionall}^  when  I  went  to  Boston  on  Saturdays.  This  was 
of  course  the  day  when  my  visits  were  least,  convenient.  I  believe  I  had  the 
discretion  never  to  stay  very  long;  but  I  was  not,  in  the  thoughtlessness  of 
youth,  sufficiently  aware  how  much  I  intruded  upon  him.  The  beaming 
smile  with  which  he  never  failed  to  receive  me,  was  well  calculated  to  mis- 
lead me  in  that  respect;  it  is  still  fresh  in  my  memory,  and  will  be  one  of  the 
last  images  that  fades  from  it. 

If  I  should  attempt  to  fix  the  period  at  which  I  first  felt  all  the  power  of 
his  influence,  it  would  be  at  the  delivery  of  his  Oration  before  the  Phi  Beta 
Kappa  Society,  in  August,  1809,  at  which  time  I  had  been  two  years  in  Col- 
lege, but  still  hardly  emerged  from  boyhood.  That  Address,  although  the 
standard  of  merit  for  such  performances  is  higlier  now  than  it  was  then,  will, 
I  think,  still  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  very  best  of  its  class;  admirably  appro- 
priate, thoroughly  meditated,  and  exquisitely  wrought.  It  unites  sterling 
sense,  sound  and  various  scholarship,  precision  of  thought,  the  utmost  ele- 
gance of  style,  without  pomp  or  laborious  ornament,  with  a  fervour  and  depth 
of  feeling  truly  evangelical.  These  qualities  of  course  are  preserved  in  the 
printed  text  of  the  Oration.  But  the  indescribable  charm  of  your  brother's 
personal  appearance  and  manner,  the  look,  the  voice,  the  gesture  and  atti- 
tude,—  the  unstudied  outward  expression  of  the  inward  feeling, —  of  these 
no  idea  can  be  formed  by  those  who  never  heard  him.  A  better  conception 
of  what  they  might  have  been  may  probably  be  gathered  from  the  contem- 
plation of  Stuart's  portrait  than  from  any  description.  I  can  never  look  at  it 
without  fancying  I  catch  the  well-remembered  expression  of  the  living  eye,  at 
once  gentle  and  penetrating,  and  hear  the  most  melodious  voice,  as  I  firmly 
believed,  that  ever  passed  the  lips  of  man. 

It  would  be  presumptuous  in  me,  fi'om  my  j'outhfal  impressions,  to  attempt, 
as  you  request,  an  analysis  of  your  brother's  intellectual  and  moral  character. 
Indeed,  that  duty  was  so  happily  performed  by  our  friends  ]\Ir.  Tbacher  and 
Mr.  Norton,  shortl}'  after  his  decease,  that  any  effort  in  that  way,  on  my 
part,  would  be  wholly  superfluous.  I  will  only  say  that  I  think  he  possessed, 
in  a  greater  degree  than  I  have  seen  them  combined  in  one  person,  an 
intellect  of  great  acuteness  and  force,  a  brilliant  imagination,  a  sound  practi- 
cal judgment,  a  taste  for  literary  research  of  all  sorts,  and  especially  for 
critical  learning,  together  with  an  elevation  of  moral  feeling  approaching  to 
austerity,  (not  in  his  judgments  of  others,  but  in  his  own  sense  of  duty,)  and 
a  devotional  spirit  rapt  and  tender  almost  beyond  the  measure  of  humanity. 
To  repeat  his  own  beautiful  quotation  in  the  Address  above  alluded  to,  in  his 
case,  if  ever  among  men, — "  true  prayer  has  flowed  from  lips  wet  with  Cas- 
talian  dews."  All  this  was  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  M'hen  he  was  taken 
from  us.  Had  he  lived  to  the  ordinary  age  of  man,  it  seems  to  me  that  he 
gave  an  early  assurance  that  he  possessed  those  intellectual  and  moral  endow- 
ments, which  would  have  madt  him.  in  his  profession,  the  foremost  man  of 
his  country  and  time. 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  403 

If  you  think  that  these  hasty  remarks  will  be  of  any  interest  to  the  readers 
of  the  work  you  are  preparing,  though   I  feel  very  sensibly  how  unworthy 
they  are  of  their  subject,  they  are  quite  at  your  disposal. 
I  remain,  my  dear  Mrs.  Lee,  in  sincere  friendship, 

Faithfully  yours, 

EDWARD  EVERETT. 

FROM  JOHN  G.  PALFREY,  D.  D.,  LL.  D. 

Boston,  November  19,  1861. 

My  Dear  Sir:  You  ask  me  to  set  down  some  personal  reminiscences  of  Mr. 
Buckminster.  If  you  print  them,  let  as  much  as  your  readers  please  be  im- 
puted to  the  garrulity  of  an  old  man.  I  give  you  a  simple  transcript  of  what 
exists  in  my  own  mind. 

Mr.  Buckminster  died  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  in  June,  1812.  I  had  just 
then  completed  my  sixteenth  year.  Of  course,  I  was  incapable  of  an  analysis 
of  his  mind  and  character. 

I  first  saw  him  in  1805,  going  up  to  the  pulpit  of  Federal  Street  Church,  where 
the  family  worshipped  of  which  I  was  a  member.  Boston  was  then  a  town 
of  less  than  thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  and  much  more  isolated  than  it  is 
now  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  The  appearance  of  a  youthful  prodigy  of 
pulpit  eloquence  was  the  theme  of  conversation  in  all  circles.  I  strained  my 
ej'es  for  the  first  glimpse  of  one  so  celebrated.  I  heard  him  preach  occasion, 
ally  from  that  time  forward.  I  seemed  to  understand  all  that  he  said,  and 
was  captivated  by  it,  like  all  around  me.  As  I  now  read  his  sermons  of  that 
period,  they  do  not  appear  to  me  so  level  to  the  comprehension  of  a  child  as 
those  which  I  heard  habitually  with  less  interest  from  Dr.  Channing.  It 
must  have  been  the  exquisite  charm  of  manner,  which  impressed  the  meaning 
that  the  language  alone  would  have  failed  to  convey.  For  words  are  but  one 
form  of  the  expression  of  thought  and  feeling.  The  combination  of  tones  and 
action  constitute  another;  and  only  when  they  blend  their  forces  is  the  effect 
complete.  I  know  that  by  those  lips  religion  found  a  new  entrance  into  my 
soul. 

In  the  spring  of  1809  some  friends  of  mine  solicited  Mr.  Buckminster's  aid 
to  obtain  admission  for  me  to  the  Academy  at  Exeter,  with  which  he  was  in 
relations.  I  was  told  to  visit  him.  «'  So,"  said  he,  when  I  went,  "  you  want 
to  be  a  minister."  This  was  an  example  of  the  abrupt  address,  which,  coup- 
led with  all  gentleness,  was  one  characteristic  of  his  manner.  I  do  not  know 
what  I  replied.  It  is  probable  that,  if  I  had  self-possession  enough,  I  said 
that  my  friends  had  been  hasty  in  their  inferences,  and  that  what  I  was  aim- 
ing at  was  to  get  a  good  education. 

He  interested  himself  for  me,  and  the  immediate  object  was  attained.  Dur- 
ing the  next  two  3'ears  I  passed  my  school  vacations  in  Boston,  and  he  encour- 
aged me  to  be  often  at  his  house.  I  used  to  go  directl}'  to  the  study.  It 
occupied,  from  front  to  rear,  the  second  story  of  the  Eastern  side  of  the  par- 
sonage in  Court  Street.  In  the  centre  stood  an  organ,  where  he  used  to  prac- 
tise the  sacred  music,  which  he  higlily  enjoyed.  Leaning  back  from  the 
instrument  one  day,  he  said  to  me  that  I  ought  never  to  get  interested  in 
music,  if  I  could  help  it.  I  should  find  it  would  take  up  too  much  time.  The 
room  was  surrounded  with  shelves,  crowded  with  the  books,  in  the  collection 
of  which  he  had  expended  a  moderate  patrimony.  I  soon  learned  his  habits, 
and  conformed  myself  to  them.  Sometimes  he  would  appear  to  be  at  leisure, 
and  would  greet  me  cordialljr,  and  detain  me  to  talk  about  my  boyish  studies. 
At  other  times  I  found  him  busy  or  abstracted,  and  then  I  would  amuse 
myself  a  little  with  his  books,  and,  when  I  was  ready,  retire  in  silence.    When 


404  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

I  left  Exeter  in  1811,  he  brought  nie  to  Boston  in  his  chaise,  and  the  rich  delight 
of  his  conversation  through  that  day  is  fresh  in  my  memory. 

His  Oration  at  Cambridge,  before  the  Societ}- of  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  in  August, 
1809,  is  in  print.  I  do  not  know  how  it  may  be  estimated  by  the  ciitics.  To 
me  it  still  appears  a  literary  gem.  The  charm  of  the  delivery  is  a  thing  not 
to  be  perpetuated  on  paper.  It  was  such  as,  in  the  recollection,  amazes  me. 
Tones  and  attitudes  pass  with  tiie  instant.  But  so  lasting  is  the  impression 
■which  they  can  make,  that,  as  I  now  read  the  piece,  I  could,  if  I  liad  the 
talent  of  imitation,  reproduce  the  modulations  and  the  action  which  accom- 
panied almost  every  sentence.  And  memory  fills  up  the  picture  with  the  men 
and  women  of  that  day,  as,  when  I  turned  for  a  moment  from  the  speaker,  I 
saw  them  hanging  entranced  upon  his  accents. 

In  the  forenoon  of  the  2d  day  of  June,  1812,  I  went  into  his  study.  It  was 
one  of  those  chilly  days  which  we  sometimes  have  at  that  season,  lie  was 
sitting  by  a  fire,  reading  Southey's  Thalaba,  or  curse  of  Kehama.  I  cannot 
say  how  1  knew  this,  unless  he  mentioned  the  book  to  me.  I  observed  tiiat 
he  was  thoughtful,  and  did  not  trouble  him,  but  soon  withdrew  after  wander- 
ing a  little  about  his  book-shelves.  That  night  there  was  a  violent  access  of 
the  disease  which  had  long  threatened  his  life,  and  which  proved  fatal  within 
the  week. 

I  have  seen  days  of  sorrow  in  Boston;  but  I  still  think  I  never  saw  one  like 
the  day  when  his  death  was  announced.  The  afternoon  of  his  Funeral  was 
stormy,  but  the  church  was  so  thronged  that  great  numbers  sought  admit- 
tance in  vain.  All  the  bells  of  tlie  town  were  tolled,  and  in  the  streets  through 
which  the  long  procession  passed,  the  shops  were  closed.  Dr.  Kirkland,  Presi- 
dent of  the  University,  preached.  Sobs  were  heard  all  about  the  church  in 
the  pauses  of  the  choir  while  it  sang  tlie  hymn  which  begins, 

'  Unveil  tliy  bosom,  faithful  tomb  ! 

"  Take  tliis  new  treasure  to  thy  trust, 
**  And  give  these  sacred  relics  room 
'•  To  seek  a  slumber  in  the  dust." 

He  was  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  King's  Chapel.  I  can  still  see  the  forms  of 
men,  now  honoured  by  history,  as,  in  the  rain,  they  bowed  weeping  over  the 
open  tomb.  The  remains  were  conveyed,  a  few  days  after,  to  the  tomb  of  his 
relative  and  life-long  friend,  Mr.  Theodore  Lyman,  at  Waltham.  In  1842  they 
were  disinterred  and  placed  beneath  a  monument  erected  at  Mount  Auburn  by 
some  of  those  whose  tender  and  admiring  love  for  him  survived.  I  had  then 
ceased  to  stand  in  the  place  where  he  had  ministered,  but  I  was  desired  to 
speak  the  simple  words  of  commemoration,  which  it  was  thought  tit  should 
make  a  j)art  of  the  proceedings.  The  grief  of  that  company  was  something 
strange,  as  we  stood  again  so  near  to  what  of  our  friend  had  been  mortal,  on 
the  thirtieth  anniversary  of  the  day  when  it  was  first  buried  from  our  sight. 

Two  months  after  his  death,  Mr.  Edward  Everett,  then  recently  graduated 
from  College,  pronounced  a  poem  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  at  its 
annual  celebration.  A  tribute  which  it  contained  to  Mr.  Buckminster  was 
received  by  a  vast  audience  with  an  emotion  which  showed  how  ready  for  a 
master's  hand  was  the  chord  that  was  touched  in  the  public  heart.  Mr. 
Everett  had  been  portraying  a  bright  future  age  of  American  literature,  and 
he  proceeded,  in  lines  which  I  quote  from  memory,  and  perhaps  not  with 
exactness,  as  it  is  long  since  I  saw  them, 

"  To  scenes  like  these  had  roving  fancy  led, 

"  And  hoi)e  was  flattered,  as  the  prosj)ect  spread. 

"  E'en  now  she  saw  a  glorious  star  arise, 

"  And  marked  its  future  pathway  up  the  skies, 


JOSEPH    STEVENS    BUCKMINSTER.  405 

"  Saw  its  kind  influence  guiding  future  days, 

"  And  unborn  ages  waivrned  by  its  rays. 

"  But  Heaven's  dread  hand  hath  quenched  each  genial  flame, 

"  The  glow  of  genius  and  the  light  of  lame; 

"  Hatli  aimed,  unwarned,  tiiat  sad  and  fatal  blow 

'■  Which  robes  tiie  foinis  of  bliss  in  veils  of  woe, 

'•■  Just  shiiwed  the  admiiing  world,  and  bade  depart 

"  Tiie  noblest  rea^son  and  the  w;irntest  lioart. 

'  Faith  yieUls  tiie  piiest,  witli  sorrow  and  complaint, 

"  And  weeping  virtue  envies  Heaven  the  saint. 

"  What  soirowing  drops  tlie  public  eye  have  wet, 

"  So  bright  a  star,  and  so  untimely  set  -' 

"But  oil.  what  pangs  tlie  secret  bosom  rend, 

"  So  foiid  a  brother,  and  so  true  a  friend  ! 

"  Farewell,  thou  bie>t!  too  daik  tliy  lot  appeans, 
"  But  failli  lo(pks  up,  tliongii  sight  i^  dim  witii  tears. 
"  Serve  thine  own  Master  through  the  eternal  hours, 
*'  In  nearer  presence,  and  with  nobler  jtowers. 
"  Go  with  thy  sire,  loi-  lieavi-n,  in  judgment  kind, 
"  The  chaiii  of  filial  (Viendsiiip  spaivd  to  unbind. 
''  Or  was  that  chord  of  love  so  liiely  spun 
'•  'i'hat  joined  the  secrrt  souls  of  si.e  and  son, 
''  Tliat  eacli  unconscious,  owned  the  fateful  blow, 
"  And  nature  felt  what  reason  eoidd  not  know  ?  "• 

After  Mr.  Buckuiiiister's  deatli,  tlie  first  time  tliat  I  entered  the  room 
where  I  had  been  u.sed  to  .see  him  sitting  among  Iii.s  books,  wa.s  in  April,  1818, 
when  I  visited  it  to  attend  to  some  arrangements  for  me  to  occupy  it  as  his 
successor.  It  was  no  longer  tiie  same.  It  had  been  divided  into  two  apart- 
ments, and  so  it  continued  as  long  as  the  liou.se  stood.  But  I  had  one  more 
opportunity  of  seeing  it  in  somelliing  like  tiie  ancient  form.  On  an  evening  in 
October,  1855,  while  workmen  wlth  tearing  down  (he  bouse,  I  climbed  over  the 
frame-work  of  stairs  wliiclt  had  conducted  to  tiie  place  where,  in  my  school- 
boy days,  Mr.  Buckminsler  liad  laid  dowp  his  book  to  welcome  me.  The 
partition  had  been  removed,  and  tiie  light.s  from  the  neighbouring  houses 
revealed  the  chamber  in  the  old  proportions.  I  sliouid  have  been  alone  but 
for  a  crowd  of  memories. 

What  Mr.  Buckminster  would  liave  become,  had  time  been  granted  to  realize 
the  M'liole  of  the  rare  promise  of  liis  few  years,  would  not  be  a  prolitabie  sub- 
ject for  conjectiiie.  What  is  certain  is,  tliat  his  short  life  has  borne  precious 
and  imperishable  fruiLs.  Every  thing  about  him  was  captivating, —  his  face, 
his  presence,  his  voice,  his  winning  manneis,  at  once  so  graceful  and  so  hearty, 
his  quick  .sympathy  with  all  things  beautiful  and  good,  his  keen  relish  alike 
for  sense  and  fur  wit,  his  elegant  accomplishments,  his  exquisite  taste,  his 
precocious  knowledge.  It  followed  tliat  whatever  he  venerated  and  loved  was 
presented  to  other  minds  with  singular  attractiveness.  His  enthusiasm  for 
the  excellent  was  contagious.  The  leligion  for  which  he  pleaded  was  invested 
with  all  associations  that  made  it  seem  honourable  and  lovely.  lie  imper- 
sonated the  beauty  of  holiness.  Some  men  and  women  still  live  to  testify  from 
their  grateful  memories,  and  by  the  happiness  and  usefulness  of  their  Chris- 
tian lives,  to  the  influence  which  he  exerted;  and  far  larger  numbers  owed  it 
to  him  that,  in  their  day,  they  rendered  the  services  and  set  the  example,  of 
which  the  living  geneiatioii  reaps  the  benefit. 

Since  his  time,  New  England  has  won  a  recognized  place  in  the  realm  of 
letters.  Looking  bade  througli  fifty  3'ears,  I  hold  nothing  to  be  more  sure 
than  that  mucli  of  the  impulse  that  has  achieved  that  triumph  is  to  be  traced 
to  him   of   whom   I  make   this  desultory  record.     An  admiring  company  of 

*  The  allusion  in  the  la.st  lines  is  to  the  death  of  Mr.  Buckminster's  father, — the  eminent 
minister  of  Portsmouth,  N.  il., — who  died  a  few  hours  later,  while  absent  from  his  home  on 
a  journey; — the  illness  of  neither  son  nor  father  being  known  to  the  other. 


406  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

young  men  was  inspired  with  his  generous  love  of  learning.  Norton,  Ticknor, 
Frothingham,  the  Everetts,  were  among  those  who  came  within  the  circle  of 
his  personal  companionship.  Sparks,  Prescott,  Bancroft,  felt  the  influence  at 
a  further  remove.  The  more  numerous  scholars  who  have  won  a  name  in 
later  days,  have  known  him  only  by  the  traditions  of  their  circle;  but  the 
propitious  atmosphere  in  which  their  genius  has  been  unfolded  owes  more  of 
its  nourishing  quality  to  no  other  mind. 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  with  high  regard. 

Your  friend  and  servant, 

J.  G.  PALFREY. 

FROM  JOHN  C.  WARREN,  M.  D. 

PKOFESSOR  IN  THE  MEDICAL  DEPARTMENT  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE. 

Brookline.  August  20,  1849. 

Dear  Sir:  The  last  illness  of  the  late  Rev.  Mr.  Buckminster  was  not  fruitful 
in  exhibitions  of  his  mental  power  or  moral  feelings.  From  the  hour  of  his 
attack  to  the  moment  of  his  death,  his  intellect  was  obscured  by  the  violent 
operation  of  his  disease.  You  are  aware,  I  suppose,  that  he  was  subject,  for 
many  years,  to  epileptic  attacks.  One  of  these,  owing  to  physical  and  intel- 
lectual exhaustion,  was  brought  on,  the  3d  of  June,  1812,  and  deprived  him 
of  consciousness,  with  very  slight  exceptions,  till  the  9th  of  June,  the  day  of 
his  death.  During  this  time,  he  lay,  for  the  most  part,  in  one  position, 
breathing  heavily,  taking  the  drinks  and  medicines  presented  to  him,  and 
occasionally  murmuring  a  few  words  for  the  most  part  inarticulate,  but  which, 
on  one  or  two  occasions,  appeared  to  he  an  effort  at  pra3'er.  He  did  not  suffer 
pain  during  the  whole  of  his  illness,  and  expired  in  a  tranquil  manner. 

On  examination  of  the  body,  the  most  remarkable  appearances,  which  were 
discovered,  lay  in  the  brain.  This  organ  was  not  of  unusuallj'  large  size,  as 
it  sometimes  is  in  persons  of  great  genius,  but  was  quite  remarkable  for  the 
distinctness  and  beauty  of  its  organization.  In  persons  deficient  in  mental 
power,  the  structure  of  the  brain  is  comparatively  indistinct,  and  its  different 
parts  run  into  each  other  in  a  confused  way.  In  Mr.  Buckminster,  on  the 
contrary,  all  the  different  parts  of  the  brain  were  very  distinct,  and  those 
considered  most  important  were  more  largely  developed  than  usual. 

There  was  one  remarkable  appearance  of  a  morbid  nature.  Wenzel,  a  Ger- 
man anatomist,  was  of  opinion  that  the  cause  of  epilepsy  lay  in  a  part  of  the 
brain  called  the  pituitary  gland,  and  in  the  osseous  cavity  which  encloses  this 
gland.  The  osseous  cavity  in  the  case  was  found  to  be  distorted  by  a  morbid 
growth  of  the  clinoid  processes,  which,  to  a  certain  extent,  compressed  the 
pituitary  gland,  and  this  gland  was  converted  into  a  caseous  substance.  In 
the  case  of  Governor  Sullivan,  a  friend  and  parishioner  of  Mr.  Buckminster, 
who  was  also  subject  to  severe  epileptic  attacks,  the  same  phenomena  were 
presented.  The  brain,  though  not  large,  was  highly  organized.  The  cella 
turcica  and  the  pituitary  gland  were  in  precisely  the  same  state  as  that  just 
described. 

These  are  all  the  circumstances  relating  to  Mr.  Buckminster 's  illness  and 
death  which  have  occurred  to  me. 

I  remain,  ilear  Sir,  with  much  respect, 

Your  friend  and  servant, 

J.  0.  WARREN. 


JAMES    FLINT.  407 


JAMES  FLINT,  D.  D.* 

1806—1855. 

James  Flint,  a  son  of  James  and  Mary  Flint,  was  born  in  Heading, 
Mass.,  on  the  10th  of  December,  1779.  His  parents  were  plain  but 
worthy  people,  who  educated  their  children  to  habits  of  industry  and 
virtue.  He  was  fitted  for  College  under  tiie  instruction  of  the  Kev.  Eliab 
Stone,  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  his  native  place,  and,  at  a 
very  early  age.  received  a  decided  impulse  towards  the  clerical  profession. 
At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  entered  Harvard  College  ;  but,  owing  either  to 
the  state  of  his  health  or  his  straitened  pecuniary  circumstances,  he  was 
absent  for  considerable  period.s  during  his  college  course,  though  he  still 
maintained  a  highly  respectable  standing  as  a  scholar,  and  was  graduated 
with  honour  in  the  class  of  1802.  His  genial  disposition,  and  ready  wit, 
and  fine  powers  of  conversation,  rendered  him  a  favourite  in  College,  and 
secured  to  him  many  valuable  and  enduring  friendships. 

On  leaving  College,  he  was  engaged  for  a  year  or  two  as  Principal  of  au 
Academy  at  Andover,  his  studies,  meanwhile,  taking  the  direction  of  his 
subsequent  calling.  After  this  he  became  a  student  of  Theology  under 
the  Rev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Joshua  Bates,  of  Dedham.  In  due  time  he  was 
licensed  to  preach,  and  his  first  efforts  in  the  pulpit  gave  promise  of  much 
more  than  an  ordinary  degree  of  popularity.  He  was  very  soon  called  to  the 
pastoral  care  of  the  Congregational  Society  in  East  Bridgewater:  he 
accepted  this  call,  and  was  ordained  on  the  29th  of  October,  1806, —  the 
Sermon  being  preached  by  his  brother,  the  Rev.  Jacob  Flint,  of  Cohassct. 
Though  he  had  been  educated  in  the  Orthodox  faith  of  New  England,  he 
had,  in  the  progress  of  his  studies,  become  a  decided  Unitarian  ;  and, 
though  his  new  views  were  acceptable  to  much  the  larger  part  of  his  parish, 
there  was  a  minority  who  demurred,  and  ultimately  withdrew  and  formed 
a  new  Orthodox  Society.  What  the  distinctive  type  of  his  Unitariauism 
was  at  last,  I  have  not  been  able  to  learn  ;  though,  in  his  earlier  years,  he 
is  understood  to  have  been  an  Arian. 

Mr.  Flint  remained  in  happy  relations  with  his  people  at  East  Bridge- 
water  until  the  spring  of  the  year  1821,  when,  on  account  of  the  inade- 
quacy of  his  salary  to  meet  the  wants  of  a  large  family,  he  felt  constrained 
to  re-sign  his  pastoral  charge.  Shortly  after  this,  he  accepted  an  invitation 
from  the  East  Society  in  Salem,  Mass.,  then  recently  rendered  vacant  by 
the  death  of  the  Rev.  William  Bentley,  D.  D.  Here  he  was  installed  on 
the  19th  of  September,  1821,  and  here  he  passed  the  residue  of  his  life,  in 
tlie  midst  of  a  community  who  appreciated  his  extraordinary  qualities,  and 
were  ever  ready  to  do  him  honour.  He  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  from  Harvard  College,  in  1825.  The  close  of  his  life  was  marked 
by  intense  suffering;  but,  in  the  midst  of  it,  he  exclaimed, — "  Though  He 
slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him  ;  "  and  "  I  know  thou  wilt  never  leave  me 
uor  forsake  me."     He   died  on  the  4th  of  March,  1855,  in   the 'seventy- 

*  Chr.  Exam.,  1855. —  Communication  from  his  family. 


408  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

sixth  year  of  Lis  age.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preaclied  by  tlie  Rev. 
Dexter  Clapp. 

Dr.  Flint  was  married  to  Lydia,  daughter  of  George  and  Sarah  Dublois, 
of  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  who,  with  several  children,  survived  him. 

Tlie  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Flint's  publications  : — 

Tlic  Cliristian  Ministry,  the  Qualifications  requisite  for  it,  its  Duties, 
Difficulties,  Discouragements,  &c.,  considered  in  Two  Sermons  delivered 
before  the  Church  and  Society  in  the  East  Parish  of  Bridgewater,  the 
Second  Sabbath  after  the  Author's  Ordination,  1806.  A  Sermon  preached 
at  the  Ordination  of  the  Kev.  Nathaniel  Whitman,  as  Colleague  witli  the 
Rev.  Henry  Cummings,  D.  D.,  to  the  Pastoral  Care  of  the  Church  and 
Society  in  Billerica,  1814.  God  a  Ilefuge  and  an  Habitation  in  times  of 
Calamity  and  Danger:  a  Discourse  delivered  at  the  request  of  the  Officers 
and  Soldiers  of  the  Bridgewater  Light  Infantry,  upon  the  occasion  of  their 
appearing  in  the  House  of  God  to  give  Public  Thanks  for  their  Safe  Keturn 
to  tlieir  Families  and  Friends  from  doing  duty  in  Defence  of  the  Common- 
wealth, 1814.  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Governor,  the  Lieutenant 
Governor,  the  Honourable  Council,  and  the  two  branches  of  the  Comuion- 
weallh  of  Massachusetts,  on  the  Anniversary  Election,  1815.  A  Discourse 
delivered  at  Plymouth,  on  the  Twenty  Second  of  December,  at  the  Anni- 
versary Commemoration  of  the  First  Landing  of  our  Ancestors  at  that 
place,  1816.  A  Discourse  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  Seth  Alden 
to  tlie  Pastoral  Care  of  the  Church  and  Society  in  the  Second  Parish 
in  Blarlborough,  1819.  A  Sermon  delivered  in  the  meeting  house  of  the 
First  Parish  in  Beverly,  on  the  occasion  of  the  lamented  Death  of  the  llev. 
Abiel  Abbot,  D.  D.,  1828,  A  Sermon  on  the  Authority  and  Duties  of  the 
Sabbath,  (published  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,)  1828.  A  Sermon  on  Indo- 
lence, (published  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,)  1829.  ClKinge  :  a  Poem  de- 
livered before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society,  of  Harvard  University,  (printed, 
not  published,)  1839.  A  Collection  of  Hymns  for  the  Christian  Church 
and  Home,  1843.  The  Vanity  and  Unsatisfactory  Nature  of  Earthly 
Possessions,  Pursuits  and  Pleasures :  a  Discourse  delivered  in  the  North 
Church,  Salem,  1844.  Two  Discourses  on  Taking  Leave  of  the  Old  Church 
of  the  East  Society  in  Salem,  1845.  The  Deceased  Pastor  still  speaking 
to  his  Flock:  A  Discourse  delivered  in  the  North  Church  in  Salem,  the 
first  Sabbath  on  which  the  Church  was  opened  after  the  Decease  of  the  llev. 
John  Brazer,  late  Pastor  of  the  Congregation  worshipping  in  said  Cliurch, 
1846.  A  Sermon  delivered  by  request  of  the  Committee  in  the  Unitarian 
Church  in  jMarblehead,  the  Sabbatli  after  the  Death  of  the  llev.  John 
Barllctt,  1849.  Times  of  Birth  and  Death  the  Appointment  and  Ordering 
of  Go(l  :  A  Sern)on  preached  in  the  East  Church  in  Salem,  on  occasion  of 
the  Death  of  President  Taylor,  and  of  the  Death  of  the  Hon.  Nathaniel 
Silsbee,  1850.  Sermons,  (a  volume  12mo,)  1852.  Verses  on  Many  Occa- 
sions, with  others  for  which  it  may  be  thought  there  was  No  Occasion. 
Collected  and  printed  for  his  Grand-children,  one  volume,  8vo. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Dr.  Flint  several  times,  and  on  one  occa- 
Bion  particularly  had  a  pretty  long  interview  with  him,  which  brought  out 
Bome  of  the  prominent  features  of  his  character  as  they  are  represented  in 
ithe  letters  that  follow.     I  was  struck  with  the  exactness  of  his  memory  in 


JAMES    FLLNT.  409 

regard  to  some  tilings  wliieli  I  liaJ  good  reason  to  remember,  but  wliich  I 
Lad  a  riglit  to  presume  he  had  furgotteii.  On  every  subject  that  came  up 
be  seemed  to  be  well  informed  and  to  have  a  definite  opinion  ;  though  I 
observed  nutiiing  of  dogmatism  in  his  manner  of  .stating  it.  I  remember 
that  the  portrait  of  Dr.  Benlley,  his  predecessor  in  the  ministry,  was  hanging 
in  the  room  where  we  sat,  and  some  inquiry  that  I  made  in  respect  to  Dr. 
B.  set  him  to  talking  about  him  with  great  earnestness, —  I  might  almost 
say  enlhnsiiism.  lie  had  a  very  higli  estimate  of  his  natural  powers,  and 
though  he  acknowledged  his  eccentricities,  he  gave  him  credit  for  a  greater 
amount  of  public  usefulness  than  I  had  generally  heard  attributed  to  him. 
He  was  a  large  man,  of  commanding  appearance,  but  his  manners  were 
rather  plain  and  direct  than  polished.  I  never  saw  him  when  he  did  not 
manifest  a  kindly  and  accommodating  spirit,  though  there  was  that  about 
him  that  showed  that  he  could  sometimes,  in  the  fervour  of  his  soul,  utter 
words  to  be  remembered  for  their  severity  as  well  as  their  power. 

FROM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

BiisTON,  December  18,  1855. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  have  so  kind  an  appreciation  of  all  my  etforts  to  recall  my 
friends  for  you  to  immortalize,  that  I  am  grieved  when  I  cannot  answer  your 
wishes.  But  I  only  knew  Dr.  Flint  sliglitiy:  though,  as  he  was  settled  in  the 
home  of  my  youtii,  to  which  I  liave  always  been  in  the  habit  of  returning  for 
visits,  and  was  familiar  with  some  of  my  dearest  friends,  who  had  great 
delight  in  him,  I  feel  as  if  I  all  bat  knew  him  my.self. 

lie  was  of  a  poetical  turn  of  mind,  and,  I  think,  felt  very  much  the  imper- 
fections of  tliis  scene  of  things.  He  was  not  at  all  fitted  for  the  cares  of  life. 
They  annoyed  him  more  than  tliey  do  most  men.  This  gave  a  sort  of  pathos 
to  his  turn  of  thought  and  expression.  His  very  voice  was  plaintive.  And 
yet  iii.s  intellect  was  clear  enough  to  seize  tlie  ideal  of  every  thing,  and  gleamed 
like  a  smile  througli  tears.  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  there  was  the  weakness 
of  qucruhiusness  about  him.  His  intellect  raised  liini  above  that.  JJiit  his 
joj'fulness  in  the  beauty  of  nature  and  the  vision  of  the  ideal  never  rose  to 
the  pitch  of  triumph. 

It  is  true  I  did  not  know  him  much  after  the  death  of  his  cousin  Timothy 
Flint,*   to    whom    he   M^as    united    in    the   bonds    of  a    rare   friendship,  and 

♦TniOTiiY  Flint  was  born  in  North  Reading,  Mass.,  in  July,  1780.  He  was  graduated 
at  Harvard  College  in  1800,  and,  having  entered  the  Ministry  of  the  Congregational  Church, 
was  settled  at  Lunenburg,  Mas.s.,  in  lSi-i2.  He  was  a  diligent  student  of  the  natural  sciences, 
and  his  chemical  experiments  led  some  ignorant  persons  to  charge  him  with  counterfeiting 
coin.  He  prosecuted  them  for  slander,  and  a  difBculty  ensued,  which,  aggravated  by  political 
differences,  led  to  the  resignation  of  his  pastoral  charge  in  1814.  He  then  preached  in 
various  parts  of  New  EngUmd,  and,  in  September,  1813,  set  out  as  a  missionary  to  the  West. 
After  passing  seven  or  eight  years  in  this  capacity  in  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  vallejs,  his 
health  became  impairedj  and  he  undertook  to  unite  the  two  vocations  of  a  farmer  and  a 
teacher,  at  first  near  New  Orleans,  and  afterwards  on  Red  River.  In  1825  he  returned  to 
Massachusetts,  greatly  reduced  in  both  health  and  fortune;  but  the  change  of  climate  soon 
invigorated  his  constitution,  and  from  this  time  he  devoted  himself  to  writing  various  works, 
which  procured  for  him  considerable  distinction  as  an  author.  His  first  work  was  Recollec- 
tions of  Ten  Years  passed  in  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi,  8  vo.,  1826.  This  was  reprinted 
in  London,  and  translated  into  French.  In  the  same  year  he  brought  out  a  work,  entitled 
Francis  Berrian,  or  the  Mexican  Patriot.  His  next  publication  w.as  a  Condensed  Geography 
and  History  of  the  Western  States  in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  2  vols.  8vo.,  1828.  The  same 
year,  he  removed  to  Cincinnati,  where  he  edited,  for  three  years,  the  "  Western  Review. '^  la 
1833  he  went  to  New  York,  and  edited  a  few  numbers  of  the  Knickerbocker  Magazine.  He 
afterwards  took  up  his  residence  in  Alexandria,  D.  C,  spending  most  of  his  summers,  how- 
ever, in  New  England.  His  principal  works,  besides  those  mentioned  above,  are  Arthur 
Clenning  (a  novel)  2  vols.  12  mo.,  1828;  George  Mason  or  the  Backwoodsman;  Shoshonee 
Valley,  2  vols.,  1830 ;   A  Translation  of  Droz,  Essai  sur  Part  d'etre  hcureuse,  1832 ;   Indian 


410  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

from  whose  loss  he  never  recovered.  But  his  sorrow  for  this  loss  and  fci  chat 
of  a  daughter,  who  was  a  principal  charm  of  his  home,  was  not  from  any  uoubt 
of  God's  goodness,  or  of  an  immortal  re-union j  for  these  were  rherished 
articles  of  his  creed.  Like  all  poetical  natures,  he  had  an  intense  sense  of 
what  mere  human  life  had  of  richness  and  beauty,  or  rather  might  have.  His 
preaching  was  full  of  resigned  religious  sentiment,  ratnei-  than  overflowing 
with  the  jojr  of  believing.  He  seemed  to  think  life  au  evil  to  be  borne  rather 
than  an  opportunity  for  victory. 

It  may  be  that  I  exaggerate  this  side  of  his  cbjij-aoter  ;  but  such  was  its 
aspect  to  me  in  such  opportunities  as  I  had  of  viewuig  him.  But  I  think  you 
had  better  seek  the  testimony  of  some  one  Avho  saw  nim  in  various  lights,  and 
at  different  periods  of  his  life.  I  have  read  his  colbigue's  Sermon  on  his  death, 
and  know  nothing  to  make  me  doubt  its  being  a  faithful  picture.  It  certainly 
is  of  his  intellectual  character,  which  I  had  more  opportunities  to  observe 
than  of  his  strictly  pastoral  and  clerical  character. 

Regretting  that  I  am  able  to  sa}^  so  little  that  can  be  to  your  purpose, 

I  am  respectfully  and  truly  yours, 

E.  P.  PEABODY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  October  30,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  knew  Dr.  Flint  as  well  as  the  difference  in  our  years  would 
permit.  In  verj'  boyhood  I  often  saw  him,  and  preached  for  him  repeatedly 
in  the  early  part  of  my  ministry,  and  not  unfrequently  met  him  in  his  old  age. 
The  strongest  impression  he  has  left  upon  me  is  that  he  was,  from  first  to  last, 
out  of  gearing  with  the  actual  world.  He  was  a  man  of  great  talent,  but  not 
of  a  proportional  power  of  influence.  He  had  the  graces,  and  with  them  some 
of  the  unfortunate  liabilities  of  a  highly  poetic  temperament.  His  best  ser- 
mons were  among  the  best  that  I  have  ever  heard;  but  they  had  in  them  more 
of  the  anthem  than  of  the  homily,  and  were  better  adapted  to  edify  the  devout, 
than  to  convert  the  unbeliever  or  reclaim  the  sinner.  I  doubt  whether  he 
ever  had  regular  habits  of  study.  He  wrote  under  the  impulse  of  a  strong 
afflatus,  and  his  discourses  lacked  therefore  the  logical  basis  and  frame  work 
essential  to  their  fullest  efficiency.  He  shone  pcculiarl}'  in  conversation.  I 
have  never  heard  a  more  eloquent  talker.  His  powers  of  nanation  and 
description  were  so  fine  that  what  he  related  seemed  to  his  hearers  their  own 
personal  experience.  On  moral  and  religious  subjects  he,  at  times,  uttered 
himself  with  singular  unction  and  beaut}'.  He  loved  music,  had  in  middle 
life  a  voice  of  great  compass  and  richness,  and,  if  I  remember  right,  per- 
formed on  one  or  more  instruments.  In  temper  he  was  kind,  but  irascible; 
strong  in  his  friendships,  and  full  as  strong  as  ever  becomes  a  Christian  in  his 
dislikes.  He  was  too  sensitive  to  be  well  fitted  for  the  necessary  encounters 
and  collisions  of  professional  life,  and  he  felt  keenly  the  inevitable  experiences 
of  his  declining  years.  Indeed  his  whole  pilgrimage  was  one  of  numerous 
trials  and  burdens,  which  were  often  made  so  only  by  his  keen  susceptibility 
of  suffering.  But  his  power  of  enjoyment  was  proportionally  vivid  and  intense. 
As  I  look  back  upon  the  years  in  which  I  knew  him  familiarly,  I  think  of  him 
as  having  been  less  <'  at  home  in  the  body  "  than  any  good  man  I  ever  knew; 
but  my  memories  of  him  are  such  as  easily  and  pleasantly  connect  themselves 
with  the  home  to  which  I  trust  he  has  been  welcomed. 

As  a  Preacher,  he  was,  during  the   first  years  of  his  settlement  in  Salem, 

Wars  in  the  West,  12  mo.,  1833;  Lectures  on  Natural  History,  Geology,  Chemistry,  and  the 
Arts,  12  mo.,  1833  ;  Memoir  of  Daniel  Boone,  18  mo.,  18.34.  He  also  contributed  to  the 
London  Athenaeum,  in  1835,  a  series  of  papers  on  American  literature.  He  died  in  Salem, 
Mass.,  August  16,  1840. 


JAMES   FLINT.  411 

very  popular  throughout  that  entire  neighbourhood;  but  in  his  later  years  I 
think  his  preaching  attracted  less  attention.  His  social  powers  and  his  warm 
sympathies  made  him  a  favourite  in  the  families  of  his  flock;  he  loved  children; 
he  drew  strongly  towards  him  the  hearts  of  the  afflicted,  and  was  always 
prompt  and  felicitous  in  the  discharge  of  specific  pastoral  duties  on  marked 
occasions;  —  but  his  lack  of  method  and  his  desultory  habits  of  labour  no 
doubt  rendered  gifts  and  graces  like  his  less  efficiently  useful  in  his  parochial 
walks  than  they  might  have  been  with  a  more  persistent  and  systematic 
industry.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Very  truly  yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 


NATHAN  PARKER,  D.  D.* 

1807—1833. 

Nathan  Parker  was  born  at  Reading,  Mass.,  June  5,  1782.  Hia 
father  was  a  respectable  farmer,  aud  had  a  high  appreciation  of  learning, 
which  led  him,  at  some  sacrifice,  to  give  liis  son  the  advantages  of  a  colle- 
giate education.  Accordingly,  the  son  having  been  fitted  for  College  under 
the  instruction  of  his  relative,  tlie  llev.  Joseph  Willard.t  of  Boxborough, 
was  entered  as  a  Freshman  in  Harvard  College,  at  the  age  of  seventeen, 
and  was  graduated  in  1803. 

The  year  after  his  graduation  he  spent  in  Worcester,  as  the  teaclier  of  a 
grammar-school,  intending,  at  that  time,  to  enter  the  profession  of  the 
Law.  He,  however,  subsequently  changed  his  purpose,  aud,  the  year  fol- 
lowing, commenced  the  study  of  Tiieology  under  tlie  direction  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Bancroft,  and,  at  the  same  time,  went  to  reside  in  his  family.  A  very 
warm  and  affectionate  attachment  now  grew  up  between  the  teacher  and 
pupil,  which  seems  to  have  been  a  source  of  high  mutual  satisfaction  in 
subsequent  years. 

In  1805  he  accepted  an  invitation  to  a  Tutorship  in  Bowdoin  College, 
Avliich  office  he  held  for  two  years.  Having,  in  the  mean  time,  been 
licensed  to  preach,  he  supplied  various  pulpits  in  the  neighbourhood,  as 
occasion  or  opportunity  presented.  In  May,  1808,  he  preached,  by  way 
of  exchange,  in  the  pulpit  of  the  South  Parish  of  Portsmouth,  at  that  time 
vacant  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  Dr.  Haven.  The  impression  made 
by  his  services  was  so  decidedly  favourable  that  there  was  a  general  desire 
to  hear  him  further,  and  the  result  was  that,  in  July  following,  he 
received  from  the  Church  and  Society  a  call  to  become  their  minister. 
He  accepted  the  call,  and  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  14th  of  Sep- 
tember, the  Rev.  Dr.  Bancroft,  his  theological  instructor,  preaching  the 
Sermon. 

*  Memoir  by  Rev.  Henry  Ware,  Jr. 

•f  Joseph  Willard  was  born  at  Grafton,  Mass.,  in  January,  1742;  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College  in  1765;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Mendon,  April  19, 
1769;  was  dismissed  on  the  4th  of  December,  1782;  was  installed  at  Boxborough,  on  the  2d  of 
November,  1785 ;  and  died  on  the  13th  of  September,  1828,  aged  eighty-six  years.  He  published 
a  Sermon  preached  at  Mendon,  1781. 


412  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  1820  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  liim  by 
Bowdoin  College.  In  1824  he  delivered  the  Dudleian  Lecture  in  Har- 
vard University. 

About  1821  he  began  to  be  sensible  of  diificuUy  in  both  his  breathing 
and  speech,  originating  in  the  upper  part  of  his  nostrils.  He  was  obliged, 
after  a  while,  to  submit  to  a  surgical  process  for  the  removal  of  a  polypus. 
and  this  process  it  was  found  necessai'y,  from  time  to  time,  to  repeat.  But 
the  disease  could  not  be  arrested  ;  and  he  could  not  but  be  fully  aware  of 
the  gradual  inroads  which  it  was  making  upon  his  constitution  ;  but  he 
endured  it,  year  after  year,  with  great  fortitude,  making  much  less  account 
of  the  suffering  to  which  it  subjected  him  than  of  the  paralytic  influence 
which  it  exerted  over  his  faculties,  thereby  greatly  lessening  his  ability  to 
labour.  In  June,  1830,  he  made  a  journey  to  Saratoga  Springs,  visiting 
at  some  of  the  intermediate  places,  in  the  hope  that  change  of  air  and 
relaxation  might  benefit  his  health  ;  but  in  this  hope  he  was  disappointed. 
In  the  spring  of  1832  his  disorder  assumed  a  new  complexion,  and  seemed 
to  be  rapidly  extending  itself  to  the  lungs.  He  was  obliged  now  to  cease 
from  preaching;  and,  in  August  following,  he  visited  the  Isle  of  Shoals,  in 
the  hope  of  being  benefitted  by  change  of  air  and  retirement.  On  his 
return,  he  submitted  his  case  to  some  of  the  most  distinguished  physicians 
in  Boston,  and  the  result  of  his  conference  with  them  seems  to  have  been 
that  he  was  somewhat  encouraged  in  regard  to  the  prospect  of  continued 
life.     In  a  letter  to  a  friend  about  this  time  he  wrote  as  follows  : — 

'■'  The  prospect  tliat  my  disease  will  soon  come  to  a  fatal  issue,  I  do  not  consider  as 
certain  as  I  once  did.  It  seems  to  me  more  probahle  that  I  may  be  called  to  pass 
years  of  infirmity  and  uselessness;  and  I  must  confess  that  the  anticipation  is  far 
more  painful  to  me  than  tliat  of  a  speedy  death.  But  I  will  not  distrust  tiiat  merciful 
Being  who  has  hitherto  susiained  me,  nor  the  consolatit)ns  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus. 
In  my  sickness  I  have  been  wonderfully  supported;  my  mind  has  been  preserved  in 
great  serenity,  and  my  religious  trust  has  not  been  fur  a  moment  shaken.  Though 
there  is,  at  times,  a  degree  of  fearfnlness,  when  I  look  forward  to  the  future  trials 
which  may  await  me,  yet  I  am  not  cast  down  in  the  anticijiation  of  them,  but  stay 
myself  on  the  promises  of  God,  and  submit  myself  to  his  disposal.  All  will  be  well,  I 
doubt  not." 

His  friends  were  now  very  desirous  that  he  should  escape  from  the  rig- 
ours of  a  Northern  climate,  and  try  the  effect  of  a  winter's  residence  iu 
Cuba  ;  but  he  preferred  to  remain  iti  the  midst  of  his  congregation.  In 
the  course  of  the  next  summer,  his  health  seemed  slightly  improved,  inso- 
much that,  for  a  few  Sabbaths,  he  was  able  to  preach;  but  it  proved  only 
a  transient  revival.  It  had  become  now  a  serious  question  with  hiiu 
whether,  in  consideration  of  his  enfeebled  state  and  his  probable  incapacity 
for  any  future  service,  it  was  not  his  duty  to  resign  his  pastoral  charge  ; 
but  his  parish,  instead  of  listening  to  such  a  suggestion,  immediately 
resolved  to  provide  him  witli  a  colleague.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Andrew  P. 
Peabody,  who  had,  for  some  time,  been  a  resident  of  Portsmouth,  was  fixed 
upon  as  a  suitable  person  for  the  jilace  ;  and,  having  accepted  a  call,  was 
ordained  and  installed  on  the  24th  of  October,  1833.  From  this  time 
Dr.  Parker's  decline  became  more  rapid  ;  and,  on  the  6th  of  November, 
he  intimated  to  his  physician  that  the  time  of  his  departure  was  at  hand. 
He  proceeded  now,  in  the  midst  of  extreme  suffering,  to  make  such  arrange- 
ments of  his  worldly  affairs  as  he  deemed  necessary,  and,  after  two  days, 


NATHAN    PARKER.  413 

quietly  breatlied  liis  last.  Ilis  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  his  iuti- 
niatc  friend,  the  llev.  Dr.  Nichols  of  Portland. 

In  1815  he  was  married  to  Susan,  daugiiter  of  the  Hon.  John  Picker- 
ing, Chief  Justice  of  New  Hampshire.  They  had  two  children,  one  of 
whom  died  in  infancy;  the  other  (Francis  Edward)  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard College  in  1841,  and  is  a  lawyer  of  high  standing  in  Boston.  Mrs. 
Parker  died  in  Boston  in  January,  1858. 

Dr.  Parker  published  a  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Buck- 
minster,  D.  D.,  1812  ;  the  New  Hampshire  Election  Sermon,  1819  ;  an 
Address  to  the  Teachers  of  the  South  Parish  Sunday  School,  1820  ;  and  a 
Sermon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  New  Cliurcli  belonging  to  his  Parish, 
182G.  He  also  contributed  one  or  more  Sern)ons  to  the  Liberal  Preacher. 
After  his  death,  a  volume  of  his  Sermons  was  published,  with  a  Memoir, 
by  the  llev.  Henry  Ware,  Jr. 

I  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Parker  first  on  a  visit  which  I  made  to 
Portsmouth,  wliile  I  was  a  student  in  College,  about  the  year  1813.  He 
was  a  boarder  at  the  house  where  I  stopped,  and  I  was  very  soon  attracted 
by  liis  genial  spirit  and  fine  social  qualities.  After  I  entered  the  ministry 
I  WAS  several  times  in  Portsmoutli,  and  never  witliout  having  one  or  more 
interviews  with  Dr.  P.  After  my  settlement  in  Albany,  and  not  long 
before  his  death,  he  came  and  passed  a  day  with  me,  giving  me  an  oppor- 
tunity for  more  continuous  intercourse  with  him  tlian  I  liad  before  enjoyed.  I 
foutid  him  then,  as  always,  frank  and  generous  in  his  spirit,  and  evincing  a 
clear,  well  balanced  and  higlily  cultivated  mind.  He  manifested  no  dispo- 
sition to  converse  on  subjects  on  which  we  differed,  and  said  nothing  which 
could,  even  by  implication,  be  considered  as  derogatory  to  any  denomina- 
tion of  Christians  or  any  system  of  faith.  Tliere  was  great  point  in  many 
of  his  remarks,  and  occasionally  a  flasli  of  wit  as  bright  as  it  was  easy  and 
natural.  I  remember  his  expressing  to  me  the  highest  reverence  for  his 
Orthodox  neighbour,  Dr.  But-kminster,  as  well  as  the  most  unqualified 
admiration  for  his  yet  n)ore  distinguished  son.  Dr.  Buckminster,  though 
aware  that  he  was  an  Arian,  continued  his  ministerial  exchanges  wiih  him 
as  long  as  Dr.  B.  lived. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  September  9,  1850. 

My  dear  Sir:  You  have,  in  the  Memoir  of  Dr.  Parker,  by  the  Rev.  Henry 
Ware,  Jr.,  all  the  leading  incidents  of  his  life,  together  with  a  just  and  felici- 
tous sketch  of  his  character.  I  cheerfully  take  upon  myself,  at  your  request, 
the  easy  task  of  recording  some  of  my  remembrances  of  him,  and  imj)ressions 
concerning  him. 

I  first  saw  Dr.  Parker  when  I  was  in  College.  He  was  the  Dudleian  Lec- 
turer for  the  3'ear.  His  fume  as  a  Preacher  had  preceded  him,  and  we  stu- 
dents had  our  expectations  perhaps  extravagantly  raised,  especially  as,  in 
those  days  of  slow  coaches,  New  Hampshire  was  a  tarra  incognita  to  the 
greater  portion  of  us;  and  a  reputation  which  could  reach  all  the  way  from 
Portsmouth  to  Cambridge,  seemed  little  less  than  world-wide.  As  he  entered 
the  chapel  and  ascended  the  pulpit,  I  was  struck  with  the  simple  dignity  of 
his  air  and  mien,  and  with  the  traces  at  once  of  mental  vigour  and  moral  dig- 
nity in  his  countenance.  His  prayer  was  fervent  and  inqjressive.  The  hymn 
before  sermon  was  read  with  so  much  feeling  as  to  have  made  it  a  favourite 


414  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

hymn  with  me  from  that  daj'  to  the  present  time.  But  the  Lecture  itself, 
Avliich  was  on  Presbjteriaii  Ordination,  gave  general  disappointment.  It 
short'ed  traces  of  a  vigorous  mind,  but  was  brief,  fragmentary  and  rather 
jejune.  After  his  decease,  I  found  it  among  his  manuscripts.  I  read,  in  whole 
or  in  part,  some  hundreds  of  his  sermons;  and  I  e.vpress  no  more  than  my 
then  belief,  when  I  say  that  this  was  decidedly  inferior  to  all  the  rest.  It 
was  probabljr  the  only  sermon  which,  sub.sequently  to  his  Ordination,  ho 
wrote  without  primary  reference  to  the  needs  of  his  own  people.  It  was 
written  during  a  painfully  eventful  season  in  his  pastoral  experience,  and  the 
parish  sermons  of  that  season  were,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  of  a  higher  order 
than  of  any  other  period  of  equal  length. 

In  the  autumn  of  1828  I  first  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Parker,  and  was 
for  fifteen  nionths  his  parishioner,  a  teacher  in  his  Sunday  School,  and  a  fre- 
quent visitor  at  his  house.  I  left  Portsmouth  to  pursue  my  professional 
studies,  and,  in  the  autumn  of  1833,  was  ordained  as  his  colleague.  On  the 
day  of  my  Ordination,  the  disease  which  had  incapacitated  him  for  the  public 
services  of  his  profession,  assumed  a  fatal  stamp,  and  my  only  remaining 
privilege  near  him  was  to  witness  the  fortitude  with  which  he  bore  the 
severest  bodily  suflTering,  and  the  serenity  with  which  he  resigned  himself  to 
approaching  dissolution. 

In  looking  back  upon  all  that  I  saw  or  knew  of  him,  I  think  of  him  as  a  fine 
example  of  both  the  sterner  and  the  milder  virtues.  I  can  hardly  conceive  of 
his  having  been  betrayed  even  into  a  momentary  manifestation  or  utterance, 
which  his  best  friend  would  have  occasion  to  regret.  Yet  his  was  not  a  tame 
or  passive  nature,  but  had  full  as  many  and  various  elements  that  required 
the  mellowing  touch  of  Divine  grace,  in  order  to  their  healthful  working,  as 
can  be  found  in  almost  anj'  strongly  marked  character.  He  had  a  resolute 
will,  which  would  have  been  stubborn  for  evil,  but  which,  consecrated  to 
exalted  ends,  seemed  to  sweep  into  its  own  uses  whatever  might  have  retarded 
or  opposed.  He  must  have  had  strong  passions;  for  every  expression  of  his 
emotional  nature  was  quick  and  earnest;  and  his  moral  indignation  at  mean- 
ness or  vice  was  even  vehement;  j'et  it  is  believed  that  none  could  remember, 
in  his  varied  social  intercourse,  a  single  word  or  act  inconsistent  with  genuine 
meekness.  He  looked  through  character  with  an  insight  such  as  I  have  rarely, 
if  ever,  known  in  any  other  man,  and  I  doubt  whether  he  was  ever  imposed 
upon;  yet  he  was  eminently  kind  in  his  judgment,  always  ready  to  suggest  all 
possible  excuses  and  palliations  for  the  wrong-doer,  careful  of  the  reputation 
of  the  absent,  and  solicitous  to  bring  to  light  whatever  there  was  of  good  in 
the  most  faulty  and  unworthy.  He  had  a.keen  wit  and  a  rich  fund  of  humour; 
yet  even  this  perilous  endowment  was  redeemed  from  its  usual  desecration  to 
personalit}'^  and  censoriousness,  and  emplo3'ed  only  when  it  could  aid  the 
unrippled  flow  of  genial  feeling,  or  subserve  the  interests  of  virtue.  lie  had 
also  a  bodily  and  mental  constitution,  in  no  part  sluggish  or  unimpressible, 
but  open  to  excitement  and  enjoyment  througli  ever}''  avenue,  so  that  he  must 
have  found  occasion,  especiall}'  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  course,  for  incessant 
watchfulness  and  strenuous  self-discipline. 

As  to  his  profession,  it  appeared  not  so  much  that  of  his  choice  as  of  his 
nature.  It  sat  easily  upon  him,  and  lie  had  no  life  apart  from  it.  It  was  the 
habit  which,  without  a  conscious  effort,  clothed  his  words,  his  manners,  his 
daily  walk.  Yet,  of  what  is  commonly  called  a  clerical  manner,  that  is,  a 
style  of  countenance,  voice  or  gesture,  taken  on  at  set  times,  in  a  professional 
capacity,  he  had  none.  His  tones  in  preaching,  in  pastoral  visitation,  by  the 
bed  of  the  sick  and  dying,  differed  in  no  wise  from  what  they  might  have  been 
in  serious  conversation  with  his  own  brother  or  child.  His  voice  and  gesture 
in  public  and  social  prayer  betrayed  no  conscious  reference  to  the  presence  of 


NATHAN  PARKER.  415 

others,  and  could  hardlj'^  have  been  otherwise,  had  he  been  praying  alone  in 
an  audible  voice.  In  his  parochial  walks  he  assumed  nothing  on  the  score  of 
his  profession,  never  on  any  occasion  delivered  monologues  or  harangues  on 
religious  subjects,  or  made  any  discernible  effort  to  force  conversation  into 
religious  channels;  yet  somehow  he  never  left  a  house  without  having  drop- 
ped the  word  in  season,  to  be  recalled  and  dwelt  upon  after  he  had  gone,  and 
in  many  instances  to  prove  the  seed  even  of  a  life-long  harvest  of  good.  His 
air  was  not  even  that  of  one  watching  for  the  opportunity  of  giving  religious 
counsel,  but  that  of  one  who  could  not  help  turning  to  some  good  account 
every  occasion  of  social  intercourse. 

For  a  man  of  his  capacity  of  more  extended  reputation  and  influence,  Dr. 
Parker  was  peculiar  in  devoting  himself  to  his  own  parish.  He  shunned,  so 
far  as  he  could,  all  public  engagements  abroad,  and,  when  obliged  to  yield  to 
them,  generally  met  them  by  the  use  of  his  parish  sermons.  He  assumed,  in 
his  own  community,  such  collateral  duties,  literarj'  and  educational,  as  usu- 
all}'  devolve  upon  a  cleigyman,  only  so  far  as  he  could  not  conscientiously  set 
them  aside.  He  seems  to  have  regarded  every  hour  given  to  any  extraneous 
object,  as  defrauding  his  own  Hock  of  some  portion  of  their  due  care  and  nur- 
ture. In  this  I  think  that  he  ran  into  an  excess;  for  most  men  can  be  the 
more  useful  within  their  own  circle,  by  bestowing  some  time  and  energy 
beyond  it;  while  those  who  are  best  fitted  to  do  good  at  home,  can  meet  the 
most  edifyingly  the  essential  calls  for  more  extended  services  through  the  lec- 
ture room,  pulpit  or  press.  But  such  as  I  have  stated  was  his  theoiy  of  min- 
isterial duty,  and  he  was  rigidly  faithful  to  it. 

That  he  was  revered  and  loved  by  his  parish  I  need  not  say.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that,  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life,  there  was  not  a  single 
dissentient  voice  in  his  parish  to  the  esteem  for  him  as  a  man,  and  the  prefer- 
ence of  him  as  a  minister,  beyond  all  others;  and  of  those  now  living  who  sat 
under  his  ministry,  (though  the}'  have  shown  me  everj'  possible  mark  of  confi- 
dence and  affection,)  I  do  not  believe  that  there  is  one  who  supposes  that  his 
place  has  been  or  ever  can  be  supplied. 

Dr.  Parker  was  not  a  student  in  the  common  sense  of  the  word.  He  had 
but  few  books,  and  his  incessant  professional  activity  gave  him  little  leisure. 
Yet  he  was  eminently  a  knotver  on  all  subjects  of  theological  and  general  lit- 
erature. The  little  that  he  read  was  carefully  chosen.  lie  sought  out  the 
index  articles,  or  books  on  everj'  subject.  He  made  it  his  habit  to  become 
conversant  with  every  new  phasis  of  importance  in  the  realm  of  opinion  or 
sentiment.  He  knew  where  to  find  what  he  needed  for  current  use.  and  never 
left  uninvestigated  a  topic  of  inquiry  that  interested  him,  for  his  own  sake,  or 
in  behalf  of  those  who  looked  to  him  for  guidance.  His  mind  had  rare 
instincts  of  discovery,  selection  and  assimilation,  which  gave  him  the  fruits 
of  ripe  scholarship  with  much  less  than  the  full  labour  of  acquisition, —  made 
him  essentially  a  learned  man  without  the  usual  toil  of  the  learner. 

I  have  already  said  something  of  the  character  of  his  public  discourses. 
During  the  fifteen  months  in  which  I  heard  him  preach,  I  heard  not  a  sermon 
which  even  a  stranger  would  have  deemed  indifferent,  while  I  should  have 
found  it  hard  to  refer  to  some  as  better  than  others.  They  were  never  defi- 
cient in  intellectual  staple, —  never  mere  good  talks  or  rhapsodies  of  devout 
sentiment,  or  pious  exhortations.  The  frame  of  his  sermon  was  always  strung 
on  a  vertebral  column  of  strong  thought, —  the  product  of  the  independent  and 
earnest  action  of  his  own  mind.  But  he  never  preached  a  merely  intellectual 
sermon.  Nor  was  the  appeal  to  the  heart  simply  an  appendix  to  the  discus- 
sion, but  it  seemed  to  pervade  the  whole  discourse;  so  that  reasoning  and 
moral  expostulation,  argument  and  persuasion,  were  blended  in  every  sen- 
tence; and  the  application,  instead  of  being  preserved  for  the  close,  was  made 


416  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

and  exhausted  before  the  set  time  for  it  had  arrived.  His  logic  was  close  and 
stringent,  but  its  terms  were  transmuted  into  equivalents  coined  in  tlie  heart- 
mint.  This  double  character  of  his  sermons  was  well  seconded  by  his  deliv- 
ery. The  tones  of  his  voice  were  deep  and  full,  capable  of  giving  a  sustained 
majesty  and  dignity  to  his  themes  of  discourse;  and,  at  the  same  time,  tliey 
indicated  strong  and  tender  emotion,  too  much  under  the  control  of  intellect 
and  will  to  degenerate  into  weakness  or  sentimentality.  He  used  almost  no 
gesture,  except  that  when  peculiarly  earnest  in  argument  or  exhortation,  he 
unconsciously  employed  the  head  to  perform  the  office  usually  allotted  to  the 
hands.  But,  with  so  little  action,  and  with  none  of  the  aitificial  graces  of 
orator}^  he  yet  lives  in  my  remembrance  as  second  in  the  impressiveness  and 
efficiency  of  his  eloquence  to  no  pulpit  orator  that  I  have  ever  heard;  and  I 
may  deem  myself  an  impartial  judge,  as  I  came  into  his  parish  from  the  min- 
istry of  one,  whom  I  regarded  and  still  regard  with  the  same  affectionate 
reverence  with  which  my  present  parishioners  cherish  Dr.  Parker's  memory. 
I  believe,  my  dear  Sir.  that  I  have  now  given  you  all  that  can  be  peculiar  or 
personal  in  ni}'-  remembrances  of  ni}^  predecessor.  I  can  most  cordially 
endorse,  in  all  its  details.  Dr.  Ware's  sketch  of  his  character,  wliich  must 
supersede  the  necessity  of  my  adding  more  than  to  say  how  sincerely 

I  am  your  friend, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 


JOHN  BARTLETT.* 

1807  —  1849. 

John  Bartlett  was  born  in  Concord,  Mass.,  on  the  22d  of  May,  1784, 
being  the  fourth  of  a  family  of  twelve  cliildren.  His  parents,  who  were 
persons  of  great  worth,  survived  to  an  advanced  age.  His  early  life  was 
passed  under  the  ministry  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Ripley,  wliom  he  always 
continued  to  hold  in  reverent  and  grateful  remembrance.  In  his  cliildhood, 
he  evinced  a  remarkably  frank,  cheerful,  generous  spirit,  and  was  always 
ready  to  put  himself  out  of  the  way  to  confer  a  favour  upon  another. 
When  he  was  about  seven  years  old,  it  is  related  of  him  that  he  was  sent 
to  school  wearing  a  pair  of  new  shoes,  but  that  he  went  home  without  them, 
and,  on  being  questioned  in  regard  to  the  matter,  he  said  tliat  he  had 
given  them  to  a  poor  boy  whom  he  met  in  the  street.  The  spirit  which 
this  incident  betokened,  formed  one  of  his  prominent  characteristics  to  the 
close  of  life. 

At  an  early  age  he  was  placed  with  a  relative  in  Maine,  with  a  view  to 
his  engaging  in  mercantile  pursuits.  But,  as  his  tastes  were  rather  literary 
than  commercial,  he  returned,  after  a  short  time,  to  his  famil}',  who  had 
now  removed  to  Cambridge  —  the  late  Professor  Frisbic  was  at  that  time 
living  with  them,  and,  under  his  instruction,  young  Bartlett  very  soon 
completed  his  preparation  for  College.  He  entered  at  Harvard  in  1801, 
and,  having  sustained  himself  honourably  throughout  his  whole  course,  in 
respect  to  both  scholarship   and  behaviour,  graduated  in  1805.     Having 

•  Ware's  Unitarian  Biography. 


JOHN    BARTLETT.  417 

resolved  on  entering  the  ministry,  he  remained  at  Cambridge  two  years 
after  his  graduation,  engaged  chiefly  in  the  study  of  Theology.  The 
Chaplaincy  of  the  Boston  Almshouse  having  been  offered  to  him,  he 
entered  with  great  zeal  on  the  discharge  of  its  duties,  and  made  it  virtually 
the  first  Ministry  at  Large  in  Boston.  He  devoted  considerable  attention, 
at  this  period,  to  the  study  of  Medicine,  not  with  a  view  of  ever  engaging 
in  the  practice  of  it,  but  that  he  might  know  better  how  to  adapt  his  min- 
istrations to  the  physical  condition  of  the  sick  and  the  suffering.  At  his 
suggestion,  a  meeting  of  wealthy  and  benevolent  citizens  was  called,  to  con- 
sider what  measures  should  be  taken  to  procure  suitable  treatment  for  the 
insane, — which  resulted  in  the  establishment  of  the  McLean  Insane  Hospi- 
tal at  Somerville.  Through  his  instrumentality,  also,  a  Society  was  formed 
for  affording  relief  to  destitute  families,  during  the  trying  period  of  the 
Embargo.  Of  this  Society  he  was  the  chief  agent,  and,  in  connection 
with  it,  he  performed  a  great  amount  of  benevolent  and  highly  effective 
labour. 

Mr.  Bartlett  was  engaged  in  the  Chaplaincy  for  about  three  years,  and, 
during  at  least  a  part  of  this  time,  continued  his  theological  studies  under 
Mr.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Channing.  At  the  end  of  that  period,  he  offered 
himself  as  a  candidate  for  settlement,  and  very  soon  received  a  unanimous 
call  to  become  the  Pastor  of  the  Second  Congregational  Churcli  in  Marble- 
head.  Having  accepted  this  call,  he  was  ordained  on  the  22d  of  May, 
1811,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Holmes  of  Cambridge  preaching  the  Ordination. 
Sermon. 

Here  Mr.  Bartlett  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Besides  attending' 
diligently  to  his  duties  which  were  strictly  professional,  he  identified  him-- 
self  with  various  benevolent  projects,  some  of  which  were  outside  of  his 
own  denomination.  He  assisted  in  the  formation  and  management  of  the- 
Humane  Society  of  Marblehead,  composed  of  ladies  of  different  denominar 
tions,  whose  benefactions  to  the  sick  and  needy  have  been  extensively 
useful.  He  was  also  a  member  of  the  Masonic  Fraternity,  and,  for  several 
years,  was  charged  with  the  inspection  of  the  Lodges  in  Essex  County. 
He  bestowed  great  attention  upon  the  youth  of  his  congregation,  partjcu^ 
larly  in  connection  with  the  Sunday  School,  the  importance  of  which,  as  a 
means  of  intellectual  and  moral  culture,  he  thought  it  diflScult  to  overrate. 

Mr.  Bartlett  was  at  length  suddenly  arrested  in  his  labours.  Some  two 
years  previous  to  his  death,  when  his  faculties  and  sensibilities  had  been, 
for  some  time,  unusually  taxed  by  the  desolations  which  had  occurred  in. 
many  of  the  families  of  his  flock,  by  reason  of  terrible  marine  disasters, 
he  was  suddenly  brought  to  a  stand  in  the  midst  of  the  services  of  the- 
church,  both  his  strength  and  his  utterance  having  entirely  failed  him.  It 
was  supposed  that  he  experienced,  at  that  time,  a  slight  attack  of  paralysis.. 
His  labours  were  now  necessarily  suspended,  and  arrangements  were  made 
to  enable  him  to  recruit  his  exhausted  energies.  During  the  summer  fol- 
lowing, accompanied  by  his  wife,  he  journeyed  first  to  the  interior  of  New 
York,  and  passed  several  weeks  with  friends  in  the  valley  of  the  Mohawk. 
Thence  he  went  to  Staten  Island,  where  he  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
summer,  and  also  made  a  short  visit  to  West  Point,  which  seems  to  have 
occasioned  him  high  gratification.     On  his  return  home,  be  seemed  somo- 

VoL.  vin.  21 


418  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

■what  improved  in  both  health  and  spirits,  and  he  undertook  to  resume  his 
accustomed  labours.  He  quickly  found,  however,  that  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  proceed,  and  there  were  now  signs  of  no  equivocal  import  that  he 
had  nearly  reached  the  end  of  his  course.  Added  to  his  general  weakness 
was  a  difficulty  at  the  chest,  which  greatly  obstructed  his  breathing,  and  for 
weeks  prevented  his  sleeping  except  in  a  sitting  posture.  At  length,  in  the 
midst  of  a  circle  of  devoted  friends,  and  in  the  bosom  of  a  community  with 
whom  he  had  become  most  pleasantly  identified  by  a  residence  among  them 
of  nearly  forty  years,  he  sunk  gently  into  his  last  slumber,  on  the  morning 
of  February  3,  1849,  in  the  sixty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  and  the  thirty-eighth 
of  his  ministry. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Bartlett's  publications  :  — 
God  not  the  Author  of  Sin  :  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Second 
Congregational  Church  and  Society  in  Marblehead,  1819.  Preacliing  Christ 
in  Love :  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Second  Congregational  Church 
and  Society  in  Marblehead,  1825.  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Second 
Congregational  Society  in  Marblehead,  1829. 

Mr.  Bartlett  was  married,  in  1811,  to  Rebecca,  daughter  of  George  and 
Sarah  Dublois,  of  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  by  whom  he  had  six  children.  Mrs. 
Bartlett  died  on  the  23d  of  December,  1858,  aged  eighty-two. 

FROM  THE  REV.  A.  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  December  26,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  avail  myself  of  a  brief  interval  of  leisure  to  give  you,  as 
I  promised,  my  reminiscences  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bartlett,  of  Marblehead.  I 
knew  him  in  my  early  boj^hood,  having  often  seen  him  in  the  pulpit  and 
at  the  house  of  my  Pastor,  Rev.  Dr.  Abbot  of  Beverly.  Again,  in  the  latter 
years  of  his  life,  I  was  on  intimate  terms  with  him,  he  having  joined,  at  the 
earnest  solicitation  of  brethren  many  years  younger  than  himself,  a  sort  of 
clerical  club  of  which  I  was  a  member.  In  these  years  I  repeatedly  exchanged 
with  him,  visited  him,  and  became  conversant  with  his  domestic  and  pastoral 
life  and  relations. 

In  temperament,  and  in  the  traits  of  his  mental  character  and  culture,  he 
was  the  most  complete  representative  of  the  "  golden  mean  " — if  it  be 
golden  —  that  I  ever  knew.  He  was  always  serene  and  happy,  never  elated 
or  buoyant.  He  was  kind  and  genial  in  his  manner,  but  with  no  empresse- 
tnent  even  toward  his  dearest  friends.  In  conversation  he  was  neither 
sprightly  nor  dull;  he  contributed  more  than  is  often  in  the  power  of  the  most 
gifted  to  the  entertainment  and  profit  of  a  social  gathering  or  of  a  clerical 
conference,  yet,  when  the  hour  was  over,  you  could  recall  nothing  peculiarly 
striking  or  brilliant  to  which  he  had  given  utterance.  In  his  manners  he  was 
modest  and  unobtrusive;  yet  self-possessed,  easy  and  dignified.  As  to  his 
acquirements,  he  made  no  profession  of  scholarship,  seemed  to  have  only  a 
few  obsolete  books,  and  one  would  have  thought  was  too  busy  to  read  much; 
yet  what  it  became  him  to  know  he  always  knew,  and  in  the  discussions  of  our 
club  on  subjects  of  Theology  and  Exegesis,  he  often  supplemented  the  defi- 
cient learning  of  those  of  us  who  had  much  to  do  with  many  books.  His 
■sermons  were  always  good,  but  never  noteworthy, —  impressive  but  not 
exciting.  Ilis  style  was  singularly  chaste,  pure  and  rythmical,  but  with  no 
strong  points,  with  little  ornament,  and  with  little  versatility.  His  treatment 
of  a  subject  was  methoilical,  with  distinctly  stated  divisions  and  often  subdi- 
visianSj  and  with  just  that  development  of  each  which  satisfied  the  demands 


JOHN    BARTLETT.  419 

of  the  occasion  and  fell  short  of  the  point  of  weariness.  His  voice  might 
remind  one  of  the  air  of  <■<  Pleyel's  Hymn,"  a  rich  melody  compressed  within 
the  range  of  three  or  four  notes  on  the  diatonic  scale.  His  intonations  were 
more  agreeable  to  the  ear  than  those  of  any  preacher  whom  I  now  call  to 
mind;  but  his  delivery  had  so  little  compass  of  tone,  and  the  cadences  fell 
with  such  an  unvarying  ictus  upon  the  auditory  nerve,  that  from  gratified  and 
interested  attention  the  passage  to  somnolence  was  by  no  means  difficult.  His 
acceptableness  as  a  Preacher  corresponded  very  closely  to  the  absence  from  all 
extremes  that  I  have  remarked  in  his  professional  endowments.  Wherever  he 
was  wont  to  preach,  the  worshippers  were  glad  to  see  him  in  the  pulpit,  and 
felt,  when  the  day  closed,  that  it  had  been  a  good  day;  j^et  he  was  very  little 
asked  for,  or  talked  about  in  the  churches.  One  thing  I  ought  to  mention, 
though  I  bring  it  in  aphoristically, —  he  was  not  a  moderately  good  singer, 
but  he  had  a  soprano  voice  of  rare  sweetness  and  power,  and  was  wont  to  lead 
the  singing  at  social  religious  meetings,  when  there  was  no  clioiister  present. 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  gifts  which  he  possessed  in  no  moderate  or  ordinary 
measure.  As  a  Pastor  or  Minister,  in  his  relations  to  his  own  flock  and  to 
the  people  of  Marblehead  in  general,  he  manifested,  with  an  evident  desire  to 
be  faithful  to  the  last  degi-ee,  certain  peculiar  capacities  and  adaptations.  He 
studied  Medicine  to  a  considerable  extent,  before  he  became  a  Minister,  and  he 
practised  successfully  among  the  poorer  people  of  his  parish  and  the  town. 
He  Avas  skilled  in  all  the  arts  that  contribute  to  the  comfort  and  refinement 
of  home-life;  and  bj'  his  example,  influence  and  generous  aid,  he  exerted  a 
constantly  elevating  and  refining  agency  for  the  less  cultivated  portion  of  the 
community  around  him.  He  was  active  and  successful  as  a  peacemaker,  and 
suppressed  a  great  deal  of  incipient  litigation.  He  was  an  excellent  business 
man;  drew  ordinary  legal  instruments  Avith  accuracy,  and  took  the  very  best 
care  of  property.  His  services  in  this  line  were  often  put  in  requisition  for 
the  care  of  the  families  of  his  seafaring  parishioners,  the  writing  of  wills,  the 
administration  of  estates,  and  the  guardianship  of  minors.  Wherever  it  was 
a  charity  to  assume  a  charge  of  this  class,  he  was  always  ready  to  undertake 
it,  however  onerous.  He  attended  the  Probate  Court  almost  as  regularly  as 
the  Judge  and  Registrar.  At  the  same  time,  his  almsgiving  went  to  the  out- 
side limits  of  his  ability.  During  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  when 
Marblehead  drew  all  her  wealth  from  the  sea,  the  casualties  incident  to  the 
maritime  profession  multiplied  greatly  the  number  of  bereaved  and  destitute 
families,  and  constant  demands  were  made  upon  Mr.  Bartlett's  moderate,  but 
well  husbanded,  resources.  They  were  never  made  in  vain,  and  I  have  been 
told  by  one  who  knew  well,  that  it  was  by  no  means  an  uncommon  thing  for 
him  to  meet  some  urgent  case  of  need  by  sending  the  dinner  from  his  own  table. 
A  brother  minister,  who  was  intimate  with  him  for  many  years,  summed  up 
some  of  ]Mr.  Bartlett's  various  functions  in  this  wise:  — "  If  one  of  liis  par- 
ishioners were  very  sick,  he  would  first  prescribe  for  him,  then  pra}^  with  him. 
If  the  case  was  likely  to  prove  fatal,  he  wrote  the  side  man's  Avill,  watched 
with  him  the  last  night  of  his  life,  comforted  the  mourners,  made  the  post 
viortem  examination,  officiated  at  the  Funeral, —  then  presented  the  will  for 
probate,  gave  bonds  as  executor,  and  was  appointed  guardian  of  the  children." 
With  these  multifarious  occupations,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  great  purpose 
of  liis  ministry;  but  in  all  else  that  he  did,  the  work  of  winning  souls  for  his 
Master  held  the  first  place,  and  the  avenues  of  access  to  men's  hearts  which 
he  opened  by  offices  of  friendship  and  chari|Jy  he  made  availing  for  the  con- 
veyance of  religious  counsel,  rebuke  and  instruction. 

Hoping  that  from  what  I  have  now  written  you  may  extract  some  serviceable 
biographical  memoranda  of  my  much  revered  friend, 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  very  truly  yours,  A.  P.  PEABODY. 


420  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


JOHN  LOVEJOY  ABBOT.^ 

1808  — 1814. 

John  Lovejoy  Abbot,  the  eldest  son  of  John  Lovejoy  and  Phoebe 
Abbot,  was  born  in  Andover,  Mass.,  on  the  29th  of  November,  1783.  His 
father  was  a  farmer,  and  was  desirous  that  the  son  should  be  a  farmer  also ; 
but  he  yielded  to  the  son's  wishes,  which  were  decidedly  in  favour  of  a 
liberal  education.  Accordingly,  he  was  fitted  for  College  at  Phillips 
Academy,  Andover,  and  entered  at  Harvard  in  the  year  1801.  Having 
maintained  a  highly  respectable  standing  during  his  college  course,  he 
graduated  with  honour  in  1805.  He  then  returned  to  his  father's,  and 
commenced  the  study  of  Divinity  under  the  llev.  Jonathan  French,  who 
•was,  at  that  time,  the  minister  of  the  congregation  to  which  his  parents 
belonged.  After  a  short  time,  however,  he  went  back  to  Cambridge,  and 
was  employed  as  a  subordinate  officer  of  the  College,  (Proctor,)  while,  at 
the  same  time,  he  pursued  his  theological  studies  under  Dr.  Ware,  who 
had  then  recently  succeeded  Dr.  Tappan,  as  Professor  of  Theology.  lu 
1811  he  was  appointed  Librarian  of  the  College,  and  held  the  office  about 
two  years. 

He  was  licensed  to  preach  (it  is  believed  by  the  Boston  Association)  in 
1808  ;  and  after  this,  during  his  residence  at  Cambridge,  preached  fre- 
quently for  the  neighbouring  ministers,  and  in  vacant  parishes  in  the  sur- 
rounding country.  In  due  time  he  attracted  the  attention  of  the  First 
Church  in  Boston,  then  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Rev.  William  Emerson  ; 
and,  some  time  after,  received  and  accepted  a  call  from  that  church  to 
become  their  Pastor.  He  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  14th  of  July, 
1813,  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ware, 
from  Acts  XXVI.,  17,  18.  On  the  24th  of  October  following,  he  was 
married  to  Elizabeth  Bell,  daughter  of  Thomas  and  Elizabeth  (Bell)  War- 
land,  of  Cambridge. 

He  had  preached  but  two  or  three  Sabbaths  after  his  Ordination,  when 
he  was  attacked  by  pulmonary  disease,  and  never  preached  again.  In  Oc- 
tober following,  he  made  a  communication  to  his  Society  in  respect  to  the 
state  of  his  health,  which  led  them  to  take  action  of  which  the  following  is 
a  record: — 

"October  17,  1813. 

"  A  letter  was  communicated  from  Rev.  Mr.  Abbot  respecting  the  ill 
state  of  his  health  :  Whereupon 

"  Voted,  unanimously,  That  this  church  and  congregation  are  deeply 
afflicted,  and  sincerely  regret  the  indisposition  and  ill  state  of  health  of 
their  revered  and  beloved  Pastor  ;  and  they  recommend  that  he  comply 
with  the  advice  of  his  physicians  with  respect  to  a  contemplated  voyage  or 
journey. 

•'  Voted,  That  the  Standing  Committee  be  requested  to  inform  the  Rev. 
Pastor  of  the  above  vote,  and  to  aid  him  in  suitable  arrangements  for  the  same. 

•  MSS.  from  Mrs.  E.  B.  Manning,  Rev.  Dr.  Frothingham,  Rev.  Ephraim  Abbot,  and  Hon. 
James  Savage. — New  England  Palladium,  1813. — Christian  Disciple,  1814. 


JOHN  LOVEJOY  ABBOT.  421 

"Voted,  That  the  expenses  of  supplying  the  pulpit  be  paid  by  the  So- 
ciety duiiiig  the  absence  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Abbot,  and  that  his  salary  be 
continued." 

The  follow iiig  letter  to  Mr.  Abbot  accompanied  the  copy  of  the  preced- 
ing votes. 

Boston,  October  18,  1813. 

Rev.  John  L.  Abbot:  Dear  Sir:  Your  letter  of  the  17th  inst.,  couiniuni- 
cated  to  the  First  Cliurch  and  Society,  was  presented  yesterday,  and  by 
them  received  with  the  most  sincere  sentiments  of  respect,  sympathy  and 
affection;  and  whilst  they  bow  witli  submission  to  tl)e  Providence  of  God 
in  his  dispensation  whicli  is  about  to  separate  the  Pastor  from  his  flock,  we 
hope,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  for  the  recovery  and  establishmetit  of  your 
healtli,  and  that  we  may  have  mutual  cause  to  sing  of  mercy  and  of  judg- 
ment. We  enclose  a  copy  of  tlie  Votes  of  tlie  Society,  and,  in  behalf  of 
the  Standing  Committee,  are  Rev.  and  dear  Sir,  with  sentiments  of  esteem 
and  respect,  Your  friends  and  obedient  servants, 

DAVID  TILDEN 


T.,.Tir,Ti.^,^..rTT    /    Deacons. 
JAMES  MORRILL  \ 

Mr.  Abbot  sailed  from  New  Bedford  for  Li.sbon  on  the  29th  of  November, 
and  returned  about  the  lOtli  of  June  fulhnving  (1S14).  His  homeward 
passage,  besides  being  very  long,  (fifty  seven  days,)  was  very  tempestuous, 
so  that,  when  he  reached  North  Yai  mouth,  tlie  port  at  whicli  he  landed,  he 
had  lost  all  the  strength  which  he  had  gained  during  his  six  months 
absence. 

After  his  return,  finding  himself  too  feeble  to  resume  the  charge  of  his 
congregation,  he  went,  by  the  advice  of  his  physician,  to  pass  the  summer 
at  Brighton,  near  Boston.  He  sometimes  indulged  a  faint  hope  that  his 
health  was  improving,  and  that  he  should  be  able,  at  no  distant  period,  to 
return  to  his  pastoral  labours:  but,  early  in  October,  he  became  convinced 
that  his  hope  was  delusive,  and  he  began  seriously  to  meditate  the  purpose 
—  painful  as  it  was  —  of  resigning  his  pastoral  charge.  On  the  10th  of 
October,  he  left  Brighton  for  Medfurd,  where  he  passed  a  few  very  happy 
days  in  the  family  of  that  distinguished  man, —  Mr.  Peter  C.  Brooks.  On 
leaving  Medford,  he  returned  in  a  chaise,  to  liis  father's  house  in  Andover, 
and,  though  he  drove  most  of  the  way  himself,  he  was  comfortable  and 
cheerful  when  he  reached  the  end  of  his  journey.  The  next  morning,  he 
drove  over  to  the  North  Parish,  and  called  upon  his  friend,  Mrs.  Samuel 
Phillips,  and  was  still  very  comfortable  when  he  returned.  That  evening, 
however,  he  had  a  hemorrhage  from  the  lungs,  which  occasioned  much  alarm 
to  his  friends,  though  he  remained  perfectly  calm  himself.  The  next  day, 
which  was  the  Sabbath,  he  was  very  feeble,  and  slept  much  in  his  chair. 
At  evening  he  went  early  to  bed,  and  did  not  awake  to  full  consciousness 
till  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  he  was  found  to  be  dying. 
Though  he  was  unable  to  speak,  he  recognized  his  friends  around  him,  and 
took  leave  of  them  by  the  parting  look  and  the  affectionate  pressure  of  the 
hand.  He  breathed  his  last  early  the  next  morning,  October  17,  1814.  In 
compliance  with  a  request  from  his  congregation,  his  remains  were  taken  to 
Boston,  and  his  Funeral  attended  at  the  Church  in  Cliauncy  Place,  on  the 
20th,  on  which  occasion  an  Address  was  delivered  by  the    Rev.  Edward 


422  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Everett,  then  of  the  Brattle  Street  Church,  which  was  afterwards  published. 
Another  tribute  to  his  memory  in  the  form  of  a  "  Monody,"  by  John 
Lathrop,  Jr.,  appeared,  about  the  same  time.  Tlie  widow  of  Mr.  Abbot 
was  subsequently  married  to  Dr.  Manning,  of  Cambridge,  and  still  rl864) 
survives. 

Of  the  particular  type  of  Mr.  Abbot's  Unitarianisra,  I  can  learn  nothing 
more  definite  than  that  his  views  were  in  substantial  accordance  with  those 
of  Dr.  Chanuing  at  that  'period. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  SEWALL. 

Burlington,  Mass.,  April  8,  1864. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir;  I  cheerfully  comply  with  your  request  for  some  account 
of  the  Rev.  John  Lovejoj-  Abbot;  and  it  is  the  more  easy  for  me  to  do  it,  as  I 
kept  a  diary  during  \\\y  acquaintance  with  him,  in  which  I  noted  many  inci- 
.dents,  some  of  which  may  be  to  your  purpose. 

My  recollections  of  his  looks  and  personal  appearance  are  quite  vivid.  He 
was  hardly,  I  should  think,  six  feet  high;  rather  robust  than  otherwise  in  his 
frame;  of  an  open,  ingenuous  and  benevolent  countenance;  of  large  features, 
with  a  slight  lisp  in  his  utterance. 

As  he  was  of  the  class  of  1805,  next  after  mine,  I  was  but  slightly  acquainted 
with  him  till  1807.  From  that  time  forward  till  his  settlement  over  tlie  First 
Church,  Boston,  in  1813,  I  was  quite  intimate  with  him;  walking  with  him, 
or  riding  into  Boston  and  other  neighbouring  towns;  accompanying  him 
going  to  the  Boston  Thursday  Lecture,  or  in  visiting  our  mutual  friend,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Eaton,  Rector  of  the  North  (Episcopal)  Church,  Boston,  and  once, 
(August  7,  1813,)  in  partaking  of  the  Communion  with  him  at  Mr.  Eaton's 
Church.  We  often,  too,  made  short  calls  at  each  other's  rooms  in  the  College; 
and,  at  one  time,  I  was  accustomed  to  have  him,  Tutor  Frisbie,  and  one  other 
gentleman  of  the  College  Faculty,  all  troubled  with  weak  eyes,  meet  frequently 
at  my  room  after  dinner,  where  1  would  read  loud  to  them  from  any  interest- 
ing or  amusing  book  we  might  chance  to  meet  with,  and  sometimes  published 
sermons,  for  an  hour  or  so.  But  on  these,  and  all  occasions,  when  and 
wherever  I  met  with  Mr.  Abbot,  he  ever  approved  himself  the  same  cheerful 
companion,  the  same  intelligent,  kind  and  obliging  friend.  And  he  not  unfre- 
quently  would  entertain  all  in  company  with  him  with  flashes  of  wit  and 
humour,  or  with  dry  satire  but  sharp,  against  any  distinguished  persons  in 
the  community,  who  were  believed  or  reported  to  have  done  any  thing  that 
was  much  out  of  character. 

At  Easter,  March,  1807,  he  succeeded  me  as  Reader  in  the  Episco- 
pal Church  of  Cambridge,  and  continued  in  that  office  a  year.  After  I 
had  retired  from  it,  I  continued  to  attend  the  Sabbath  worship  of  that  church, 
and  remarked  in  my  diary  after  hearing  him  July  12th  of  that  year, —  "  Am 
much  pleased  with  him."  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  his  services  in  that 
station  were  always  very  acceptable  to  the  people.  Among  other  published 
works  from  which  he  selected  his  discourses  to  read,  were  Jay's  Sermons,  I 
recollect. 

He  and  I  belonged,  while  residents  at  Cambridge,  to  a  Theological  Society, 
—  the  "  K.  A-;"  the  meaning  of  which  initials  I  have  now  forgotten.  It  was 
instituted  about  1804  or  1805,  for  the  benefit  of  theological  students  chiefly. 
We  used  to  meet  once  a  week,  every  Wednesday  evening,  (at  one  time,)  at 
the  rooms  of  its  members  within  the  walls  in  turn,  and  sometimes  at  a  hired 
room  abroad  in  the  town;  and  the  exercises  were  prayers  at  the  opening  and 
close  of  the  meeting,  a  lesson  from  the  Scriptures,  and  the  reading  of  a  sermon 
or  dissertation  for  criticism  by  its  respective  members  in  course.     Gentlemen 


JOHN  LOVEJOY  ABBOT.  423 

of  the  College  Government  also,  Tutors,  Regent,  &c.,  belonged,  several  of 
them  to  this  society — all  who  were  interested  on  the  subject  of  religion,  or 
were  intendi)ig  to  make  the  Christian  Ministry  their  profession:  and  at  the 
Anniversary  celebration,  in  November  of  each  year,  the  Professor  of  Divinity 
was  wont  to  attend.  Of  this  Societ}'  (whicli  numbered,  at  one  time,  among 
its  members,  Professor  Frisbie,  Dr.  Nichols,*  of  Portland,  Ilev.  Mr.  Nourse, 
the  Librarian,  Rev.  Dr.  Allen,  of  Northampton,  once  President  of  Bowdoin 
College,  Rev.  Samuel  C.  Tliacher,  Professor  Andrews  Norton  and  Piesident 
Edward  Everett)  Mr.  Abbot  was  chosen  Vice  President  at  its  Anniversary, 
in  November,  1807,  and  again,  on  the  like  occasion,  in  1808.  He  often  preached 
before  the  Society.  The  sermons  were  generally  of  a  serious,  practical  nature; 
as  you  might  suppose  from  some  of  his  texts,  which  I  have  lyJted  down:  as, 
<«  Thou  God  seest  me;"  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,"  &c.  But,  occasion- 
ally, his  discourses  before  the  Society  were  on  controversial  topics.  For 
instance,  I  tind,  by  my  minutes,  tliat,  April  26,  1809,  his  sermon  before  them 
was  against  the  Worship  of  Christ.  The  following  is  my  notice  of  this  ser- 
mon:—  ''Attended  the  Tlieological  Society.  Brother  Abbot  gave  us  a  discus- 
sion on  «  the  Worship  of  Christ.'  After  enumerating  the  several  passages 
which  have  been  thought  to  imply,  directly  or  indirectly,  that  the  Saviour 
was  to  be  worshipped,  he  adduced  arguments  on  the  other  side  of  the  ques- 
tion, in  favour  of  which  he  decided.  Had  a  long  debate  on  the  subject  after 
he  had  done-"  From  this  a  change  seems  to  have  taken  place  in  his  views 
of  tlie  person  of  the  Saviour  from  what  the}'  were  when  he  was  Reader  in  the 
Episcopal  Church  in  Cambridge,  in  1807.  He  became  eventually,  I  am  confi- 
dent, a  decided  Unitarian.  Whether  he  finally  embraced  the  Arian  or  the 
Socinian  hj'pothesis,  I  am  not  sure;  but  I  rather  think  the  former.  But, 
on  this  and  all  other  subjects  of  controversy,  Mr.  Abbot  was  very  candid 
towards  those  who  differed  from  him.  He  very  seldom,  if  ever,  indulged  in 
any  thing  like  severity  against  them  for  their  supposed  errors;  and  with  some 
gentlemen  who  differed  from  him  in  sentiment,  (as  Rev.  Mr.  Eaton,  above 
referred  to,  who  was  very  orthodox  upon  tlie  Trinity,)  he  continued  to  live  in  \ 
intimate  friendship  all  his  days. 

I  was  not  present  at  Mr.  Abbot's  ordination,  as  I  was  then  preaching  as  a 
candidate  at  Westminster,  Mass.;  but  the  sad  intelligence  came,  shortly  after 
my  return  to  Cambridge,  that  he  had  been  taken  off  from  his  labours  among 
his  people  by  ill-health.  In  October  following,  I  supplied  his  pulpit  at  Boston 
one  Sabbath,  and,  a  few  days  after,  he  was  mariied,  preparatory  to  his  taking 
a  voj'age  for  his  health.     The  week  before  he  sailed,  I  called  at  the  house  of 

*  IcHABOD  Nichols  was  born  in  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  July  5,  1784.  lie  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1802.  and  commenced  the  study  of  Theology  under  the  Rev.  Dr.  Barnard, 
of  Salem,  but  returned  to  Cambridge  in  1805  as  Tutor  in  Mathematics,  and  held  that  office 
four  years.  On  the  7th  of  January,  1809,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  as  Associate  Pastor 
■with  the  Rev.  Dr.  Deane,  of  the  First  Congregational  Church  in  Portland,  Me.;  and,  in 
1814,  he  became  sole  Pastor  by  the  death  of  his  senior,  and  continued  so  till  1855,  when  he 
received  a  colleague.  After  this  event,  still  retaining  the  pastoral  relation,  he  removed  to 
Cambridge,  where,  notwithstanding  his  waning  health,  he  pursued  his  favourite  studies  with 
great  vigour  until  near  the  close  of  his  life.  He  died  in  Cambridge,  on  the  2d  of  January,  1859. 
He  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Bowdoin  College  in  1821,  and  from  Harvard 
College  in  1851.  He  was,  for  many  years,  a  very  active  and  useful  Trustee  of  Bowdoin  College, 
and  was  early  elected  a  member,  and  was,  for  several  years,  the  Vice  President,  of  the  American 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences.  In  1830  he  published  a  work  on  Natural  Theology,  which  con- 
tains many  views  and  illustrations  peculiarly  his  own.  He  left  a  work  nearly  ready  for  the  press, 
entitled  ''Hours  with  the  Evangelists,"  which  embraces  an  argument  for  the  Christian  Revela- 
tion and  Miracles,  directed  mainly  against  the  theory  of  Strauss,  and  a  series  of  critical  and 
philosophical  comments  on  the  principal  epochs  in  the  Life  of  Jesus.  This  work  has  since 
been  published.  A  volume,  entitled  "  Remembered  Words  from  the  Sermons  of  the  Rev.  I. 
Nichols,"  appeared  in  1860.  He  published  several  pamphlets,  among  which  is  an  Oration 
delivered  at  Salem  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1805,  and  an  Address  before  the  Portland  Temper- 
ance Society,  182:5.  He  had  a  strong  predilection  for  mathematical  science,  was  a  bold  and: 
vigorous  thinker,  and  though  decidedly  a  Unitarian,  was  of  the  more  conservative  school. 


424 


UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


his  father-in-law  to  bid  him  farewell.  He  made  the  proposed  voyage,  but 
"without  any  substantial  benefit.  I  remember  meeting  him  once,  with  his  wife, 
after  his  return,  in  travelling  to  or  from  this  place,  after  my  Ordination  here, 
and  was  struck  with  the  paleness  of  his  countenance,  which  seemed  to  indi-^ 
cate  that  he  was  fast  becoming  a  prey  to  consumption.  It  was  only  a  sliort 
time  after  that  I  had  occasion  to  make  in  m}'  interleaved  Almanac  a  record  of 
his  death.  Yours  very  respectfully, 

SAMUEL  SEWALL. 


SAMUEL   GARY* 

1808  —  1815. 

Samuel  Gary,  a  son  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Gary,  was  born  in  Newbury- 
port,  Mass.,  on  the  24th  of  November,  1785.  He  was  graduated  at  Har- 
vard GoUege  in  1804.  He  studied  Divinity  at  Cambridge  for  tliree  years, 
and  was  invited  to  preach  on  probation  in  King's  Chapel,  Boston,  in 
November,  1808.  In  due  time  he  received  a  call  to  become  associated  with 
Pr.  Freeman  as  Junior  Pastor  ;  and,  having  accepted  the  call,  he  was 
ordained  and  installed  on  the  1st  of  January,  1809, —  IMr.  Gary  himself 
preaching  the  Sermon,  and  Dr.  Freeman  delivering  the  Cliarge. 

Mr.  Gary  proved  highly  acceptable  to  his  congregation,  and,  for  six  years, 
laboured  among  them  up  to  the  full  measure  of  his  ability.  In  March, 
1815,  he  was  seized  with  a  cold,  which,  as  it  occasioned  no  alarm,  was 
suffered  to  increase  in  violence  until  it  had  actually  become  the  foundation 
of  the  disease  which  terminated  his  life.  In  the  month  of  July  he  found 
himself  it)adequate  to  his  regular  services,  and,  in  consequence,  retired  a 
few  weeks  to  what  was  conceived  to  be  a  more  salubrious  climate.  He 
returned  somewhat  relieved,  but  without  any  essential  improvement.  Some 
of  his  friends  then  suggested  that  a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  and  a 
winter  spent  in  the  mild  climate  of  England,  might  not  improbably  be  the 
means  of  eflFecting  a  restoration ;  and  he  so  far  concurred  in  their  judgment 
as  to  resolve  on  making  the  experiment.  He,  accordingly,  left  Boston  in 
the  month  of  September.  His  passage  was  remarkaldy  expeditious,  but 
the  weather,  being  uncommonly  wet,  was  unfavourable  to  an  invalid.  He 
landed  at  Liverpool,  and,  almost  immediately  after,  proceeded  to  Yorkshire, 
where  he  stopped  for  a  few  days  at  the  house  of  a  friend.  Finding  him- 
self a  little  revived,  he  continued  his  journey  to  the  South,  intending,  after 
passing  a  few  weeks  near  London,  to  spend  the  winter  in  the  West  of 
England.  He  travelled  slowly,  and  by  short  stages,  as  lie  was  able  to  bear 
it,  being  accompanied  by  his  wife  and  another  friend.  On  Sunday,  the  22d 
of  October,  he  was  at  Cambridge,  in  better  spirits  than  usual;  and  ex- 
pressed great  interest  in  viewing  the  majestic  and  venerable  buildings  of 
that  renowned  University.  In  the  evening  he  pursued  his  journey  ;  but,  a 
mile  before  he  came  to  Iloyston,  his  breathing  became  very  hard,  and  he 
•was  seized  with  an  acute  pain  across  the  chest.       With  much  difficulty  he 

•Greenwood's  Hist,  of  King's  Chapel. —  Belsham's  Fun.  Serra. 


SAMUEL    GARY.  425 

was  taken  forward  to  the  end  of  the  stage  ;  and,  notwithstanding  all  the 
assistance  that  could  be  rendered,  he  expired  within  two  hours  after  his 
arrival. 

Mr.  Gary,  just  before  his  death,  expressed  a  wish  that  his  remains  might 
be  taken  to  London,  and  that  the  service  at  his  Funeral  might  be  perfurnied 
by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Belt^ham,  the  officiating  minister  of  Essex  Street 
Chapel;  to  whom  he  bad  brought  a  letter  of  introduction,  and  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  make.  This  request  was 
complied  with  ;  and  a  part  of  Mr.  Belsham's  Sermon,  delivered  the  Sunday 
after  his  decease,  appeared  in  the  (London)  Monthly  Repository.  A  Sei'- 
nion  on  the  occasion  of  his  death,  by  tlie  Rev.  Dr.  Freeman,  and  part  of  a 
Sermon  by  the  Rev.  Henry  Colman,  in  which  his  character  was  feelingly 
and  gracefully  portrayed,  were  printed,  not  published.  His  congregation 
ordered  a  monument  to  be  erected  over  his  remains,  and  an  epitaph  in 
Latin  was  inscribed  upon  it,  from  the  pen  of  his  classmate.  Professor 
Andrews  Norton. 

The  following  are  Mr.  Gary's  publications  : — 

A  Discourse  before  the  Merrimac  Humane  Society,  1806.  A  Discourse 
at  his  own  Ordination,  1809.  A  Discourse  delivered  on  the  day  of  the 
National  Fast,  1813.  RevievT  of  English's  "  Grounds  of  Christianity  Ex- 
amined," 181.3.  A  Discourse  before  the  Ancient  and  Honourable  Artillery 
Company,  1814.  A  Discourse  on  the  Ignorance  of  the  True  JMeaning  of 
the  Scriptures  and  the  Causes  of  it,  1814.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of 
Madam  Susan  Bulfinch,  1815. 

Mr.  Gary  was  married  on  the  26th  of  September,  1811,  to  Mary  x\nn, 
daughter  of  John  Atkinson,  who  lived  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  also 
at  Bellows  Falls,  N.  H.  They  had  two  children, — both  sons.  One  died  in 
infancy,  the  other  at  the  age  of  twelve  years.  Mrs.  Gary  was  married, 
on  the  12th  of  October,  1826,  to  Col.  Joseph  May,  of  Boston,  and  died 
on  the  27th  of  January,  1839. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  U. 

Springfield,  August  21,  1860. 

"My  dear  Sir:  My  only  reason  for  complying  with  your  request  for  my  recol- 
lections of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Gary,  formerly  minister  of  the  Stone  Chapel, 
Boston,  is  that  so  nearly  all  of  his  contemporaries  have  passed  away,  that  I 
should  scarcely  know  to  whom  to  direct  j'ou  for  anj'-  more  extended  account 
of  liim  than  I  am  able  m3'self  to  furnish.  I  used  to  see  him  occasionally  in 
Boston,  but  my  knowledge  of  him,  at  that  period,  was  derived  chiefly  from 
some  of  mj^  friends,  who  knew  him  intimately  —  indeed,  we  were  in  the  min- 
istry together  for  several  years;  and  though^ he  lived  at  Boston,  and  I  at 
Springfield,  the  distance  was  not  so  great  but  that  common  report  made  me 
familiar  with  his  character.  And  notwithstanding  the  difference  in  our  reli- 
gious views,  and  notwithstanding  one  instance  in  which  I  was  brought  into 
very  delicate  and  painful  relations  to  him,  of  which  I  shall  have  occasion  pres- 
ently to  speak,  my  general  recollections  of  him  are  very  pleasant,  and  I  feel 
not  at  all  embarrassed  in  giving  you  my  impressions  of  his  character. 

Mr.  Gary  was,  I  think,  more  than  ordinarily  prepossessing  in  his  personal 
appearance.  As  I  remember  him,  he  was  rather  below  than  above  the  me- 
dium height,  was  compactly  built,  and  had  an  expression  of  countenance  at 
once  intelligent  and  amiable,  and  on  the  whole  rather  unusually  attractive. 


426  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

His  manners,  though  simple  and  natural,  were  still  cultivated  and  gentle- 
manly, and  showed  his  faniiliarity  with  polished  society.  In  conversation  he 
had  a  good  command  of  language,  and  evidently  spoke  out  of  the  fulness  of  a 
well  furnished  and  well  disciplined  mind.  Without  attributing  to  him  the 
highest  order  of  intellect,  I  suppose  him  to  have  been  a  man  of  highly  res- 
spectable  mental  endowments,  of  which  he  made  the  most  by  means  of  a  very 
liberal  culture. 

I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  heard  Mr.  Car}^  preach;  but  the  fiict  that 
he  was  chosen  as  colleague  to  Dr.  Freeman,  of  the  Stone  Chapel,  and  that  he 
satisfied  that  very  intelligent  congregation,  is  sufficient  evidence  that  his 
preaching  talents  were  of  no  inferior  order.  I  think  he  enjoj-ed  a  considera- 
bly more  than  ordinary  reputation  as  a  Preacher,  though  as  Buckminster  and 
Channing  were  his  near  neighbours,  it  may  reasonably  be  doubted  whether 
he  did  not  suffer  somewhat  from  their  superior  splendour.  lie  published 
several  sermons,  which  were  creditable  to  his  talents,  though  they  were 
rather  tasteful  and  graceful  than  powerful.  I  am  not  quite  certain  in  regard 
to  the  particular  type  of  his  Unitarianism,  though  I  am  inclined  to  believe, 
from  some  circumstances  within  my  knowledge,  that  he  was  a  Humanitarian. 

You  are  well  aware  that  even  up  to  the  close  of  Mr.  Gary's  brief  ministry, 
the  separation  between  the  Orthodox  and  Unitarian  Churches  of  Massachusetts 
was  only  in  the  process  of  being  effected.  Not  long  after  my  settlement  here, 
my  mind  came  to  be  deeply  exercised  on  the  subject,  and,  though  many  of 
the  Unitarian  ministers  were  among  my  intimate  friends,  from  my  having  at 
an  early  period  sympathized  in  their  theological  views,  I  was  brought  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  could  not  conscientiously  invite  them  to  preach  in  m}''  pulpit. 
This  result  was  not  only  painful  to  myself,  but  was  exceedingly  unwelcome 
and  even  annoying  to  a  large  portion  of  my  congregation.  In  this  state  of 
things,  it  so  happened  that  several  highly  respectable  Unitarian  ministers, 
among  whom  was  Mr.  Cary,  came  to  spend  a  Sabbath  with  some  of  their 
friends  belonging  to  my  congregation.  The  time  had  now  come  when  my 
principles,  which  I  had  already  announced,  must  be  put  to  a  practical  test; 
and,  painfully  embarrassing  as  my  situation  was,  I  felt  conscience-bound  to 
adhere  to  my  deliberately  formed  convictions.  I  had  a  long  interview  with 
Mr.  Carj'  on  the  subject,  and  stated  to  him  mj^  views  and  feelings  without  any 
reserve,  and  he  heard  me  with  the  utmost  apparent  candour  and  kindness, 
and  assured  me  that  he  had  not  a  doubt  that  I  was  perfectly  conscientious  in 
the  course  I  had  taken,  and  that  he  did  not  see  but  that  the  views  which  I 
held  required  it.  His  whole  bearing  on  the  occasion  was  entirely  gentlemanly, 
and  though  I  doubt  not  that  he  thought  me  bigoted  upon  principle,  I  never  heard 
of  his  saying  a  word  to  my  disparagement,  or  that  indicated  a  wish  to  lessen 
me  in  the  regards  of  any  portion  of  my  people.  His  conduct  on  that  occasion 
was,  I  doubt  not,  a  fair  specimen  of  the  general  consideration  and  urbanity 
that  pertained  to  his  character.  Yours  truly, 

SAMUEL  OSGOOD. 


EZRA   SHAW    GOODWIN.  427 


EZRA  SHAW  GOODWIN  * 

1809  —  1833. 

Ezra  Shaw  Goodwin  was  bom  in  Plymouth,  Mass.,  September  11, 
1787.  He  was  the  youngest  son  of'Geiieral  Natlianiel  Goodwin,  of  Plym- 
outh, who  died  in  1819,  at  the  age  of  ninety,  and  whose  memory  is  still 
gratefully  cheri.>-lied  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  Old  Colony.  His  motlier,  the 
second  wife  of  General  Goodwin,  was  the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  John  Shaw,t 
of  Bridgewater.  She  died  at  Plymouth  in  the  year  1825,  in  the  seventy- 
ninth  year  of  her  age. 

His  education  was  commenced  atone  of  the  common  schools  of  his  native 
town,  and  his  studies,  preparatory  to  entering  College,  were  prosecuted 
under  the  Rev.  David  Guniey,!  of  Middleborough.  He  entered  Harvard 
College  in  1803,  and  having,  through  his  whole  course,  maintained  a 
respectable  rank  as  a  scholar,  was  graduated  in  1807. 

After  closing  his  collegiate  course,  he  continued  at  Canibridge,  for  some 
months,  as  a  resident  graduate,  pursuing  the  study  of  Tlieology,  in  accord- 
ance with  a  purpose  formed  in  his  early  youth.  He  afterwards  studied  by 
himself  at  home,  with  some  general  superintendence  from  the  Rev.  James 
Kendall,^  of  Plymouth.      In   September,   1809,  he  received  the  approba- 

*  Memoir  prefixed  to  his  Posthumous  Sermons. 

f  John  Shaw  was  a  native  of  Bridgewater;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1729; 
was  ordained  Pastor  of  the  church  in  his  native  place,  November  17,  1731;  and  died  April 
20,  1791,  aged  eighty-three.  He  published  a  Sermon,  entitled  "The  Character  of  a  Pastor, 
according  to  God's  own  heart  Considered,'  delivered  at  the  Ordination  of  Moses  Tapt,  [who 
was  a  native  of  Mendon,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1751;  was  settled  over  the 
Church  in  Braintree,  August  26,  1752;  and  died  November  12,  1791]  ;  and  a  Sermon  preached 
at  Barnstable,  at  the  Ordination  of  Oalies  Shaw,  1760.  Oakes  Shaw,  the  son  of  John  Shaw, 
was  born  at  Bridgewater  in  1736;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1758;  was  ordained 
at  Barnstable,  October  1,  1760;  and  died  February  14,  1763.  John  Shaw,  another  son  of 
John,  was  born  at  Bridgewater,  November  7,  1 747 ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1772;  was  ordained  at  Haverhill,  March  12,  1777;  and  died  September  29,  1794,  aged  forty- 
seven.  Bezaleel  Shaw,  another  son  of  John,  was  born  at  Bridgewater;  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1762  ;  was  ordained  at  Nantucket,  November  25,  1767  ;  and  died  February 
27,  1796,  aged  fifty-seven. 

f  David  Gurney  was  born  at  Bridgewater;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1785; 
was  ordained  minister  of  Middleborough,  December  5,  1787;  and  died  in  1815. 

§  James  Kendall  was  the  youngest  son  of  Major  James  and  Elizabeth  (Mason)  Kendall, 
of  Sterling,  Mass.,  where  he  was  born,  November  3,  1769.  He  entered  Harvard  College  in 
1792,  and  graduated  with  high  honour  in  1796.  On  leaving  College,  he  passed  two  years  as 
Assistant  Teacher  in  Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  at  the  same  time  pursuing  his  theological 
studies  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Tappan,  then  Professor  of  Divinity  at  Harvard 
College,  and  the  Rev.  Jonathan  French,  of  Andover.  He  received  approbation  to  preach 
from  the  Andover  Association  in  1795.  In  that  year  he  was  chosen  Tutor  of  Greek  in  the  Col- 
lege, and  removed  to  Cambridge,  where  he  still  continued  his  theological  studies.  He  com- 
menced preaching  at  Plymouth,  as  a  candidate,  in  October,  1799,  and  was  ordained  there 
January  1,  180(1,  the  Rev.  Mr.  French,  of  Andover,  preaching  the  Sermon.  He  was  the  sole 
Pastor  of  the  church  for  thirty-eight  years:  and,  after  the  settlement  of  a  colleague  in  1838, 
he  preached  frequently  for  a  number  of  years  in  his  own  pulpit,  and  in  other  pulpits  in  the 
region.  He  died,  after  a  short  illness,  on  the  17th  of  March,  1859,  in  the  ninetieth  year  of 
his  age.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  by  his  former  colleague,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Brigo-s,  of 
Salem.  He  was  married  in  June,  1800,  to  Sarah,  daughter  of  Deacon  Daniel  Poor,  of  Ando- 
ver, who  became  the  mother  of  six  children,  and  died  in  February,  1809;  and  a  second  time, 
in  1810,  to  Sally,  daughter  of  Deacon  Paul  Kendall,  of  Templ«ton,  who  also  became  the 
mother  of  six  children,  and  died  in  February,  1845.  The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was 
conferred  upon  him,  by  Harvard  College,  in  1825.  He  published  a  Discourse  on  the  Character 
of  Washington,  delivered  at  the  request  of  the  town  of  Plymouth,  1800;  a  Sermon  on  the 
Death  of  Mrs.  Jane  Robbins,  1800;  a  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Col.  George  Watson,  1800;  a 
Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  David  Tappan,  D.  D.,  1803;  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of 


428  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tion  of  the  Plymouth  Association,  and  immediately  after  commenced 
preaching.  From  this  time  until  July  following,  he  remained  in  Plymouth 
and  its  neighbourhood,  still  pursuing  his  theological  studies,  and  preaching 
wherever  his  services  were  desired.  In  the  summer  of  1810,  he  was  invited 
to  supply  the  pulpit  at  Topsham,  Me.,  where,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
Sabbaths  spent  at  Augusta,  he  continued  for  more  than  a  year.  From 
September,  1811,  and  through  the  greater  part  of  1812,  he  supplied  the 
First  Parish  in  Sandwich,  Mass.  ;  and,  having  received  and  accepted  an 
invitation  to  settle  there,  was  ordained  on  the  17th  of  March,  1813,-- the 
Rev.  William  Shaw,  of  Marshfield,  preaching  the  Ordination  Sermon. 

In  a  little  more  than  a  year  from  the  time  of  his  settlement,  Mr.  Good- 
win was  married  to  Ellen  Watson,  the  eld'est  daughter  of  the  Hon.  John 
Davis,  of  Boston.  Mrs.  Goodwin  survived  her  husband  for  some  years, 
but  they  had  no  children. 

In  1822  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  So- 
ciety, and,  in  1830,  a  member  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences. 

Mr.  Goodwin  was  originally  settled  for  only  ten  years  ;  but,  at  the  expi- 
ration of  that  time,  he  was  engaged  for  an  indefinite  period.  He  was  in 
the  diligent  prosecution  of  his  labours,  when  he  was  arrested  by  the  disease 
that  terminated  his  life.  In  January,  1833,  he  visited  Boston  for  the  last 
time.  On  his  return,  and  but  a  few  days  before  his  decease,  he  preached 
at  Kingston  from  the  text, —  "I  am  now  ready  to  be  oifered,  and  the  time 
of  my  departure  is  at  hand."  He  suffered,  during  that  day,  a  severe  pain 
in  his  head,  which  continued,  without  abatement,  through  the  two  follow- 
ing days,  which  he  spent  at  Plyn)Outh.  After  returning  to  Sandwich,  his 
disorder  developed  itself  as  an  abscess  of  the  brain,  and  quickly  took  on  an 
alarming,  and  even  hopeless,  form.  He  died  on  the  5th  of  February,  in 
the  forty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and  the  twentieth  of  his  ministry.  A  Dis- 
course was  delivered  at  his  Funeral,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Kendall,  of  Plym- 
outli,  from  the  text, —  "  I  leave  the  world  and  go  to  the  Father." 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Goodwin's  publications; — 

Notices  of  the  Great  Storm,  September  23,  1815  :  Mass.  Historical  Col- 
lections, Vol.  X,  Second  Series.  Meaning  of  the  words  translated  Eter- 
nity and  Eternal  in  the  Scriptures  :  Christian  Examiner,  Vols,  v,  ix,  x, 
XII,  XIII,  XIV.  A  Sermon  on  the  Secresy  of  the  Soul  in  Communion 
with  God  :  Liberal  Preacher,  Vol.  Ill,  No.  9.  An  Address  before 
the  Barnstable  Peace  Society,  1830.  Ancient  and  Modern  Orthodoxy  : 
Unitarian  Advocate  for  December,  1831.     Alice  Bradford,  or  a  Birthday 

Rev.  Caleb  Holmes  [who  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1802 ;  was  ordained  at  Dennis, 
Mass.,  January  2,  1805;  and  died  November 2,  1813]  ;  a  Sermon  before  the  Ancientand  Hon- 
ourable Artillery  Company,  1806;  a  Sermon  before  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel 
among  the  Indians  and  others  in  North  America,  1811 ;  a  Sermon  before  the  Humane  Society, 
181.3;  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Oliver  Haywood,  at  Barnstable,  1815;  a  Sermon  in 
the  Liberal  Preacher  on  Man's  Accountablcncss  to  bis  Creator,  and  a  Future  Retribution, 
1828;  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Henry  B.  Goodwin,  at  Concord,  Mass.,  1830;  a  Sermon 
at  the  Ordination  of  his  Son,  James  A.  Kendall,  at  Medfield,  Mass.,  1830;  Charge  at  the 
Ordination  of  Chandler  llobbins  as  Minister  of  the  Second  Church,  Boston,  1833;  Sermon  on 
the  Wreck  of  the  Brig  Regulator,  1836;  Semi  Centennial  Sermon,  1850.  Dr.  Kendall  was  a 
man  of  great  personal  dignity,  of  a  well  balanced  and  well  furnished  mind,  of  a  kindly  and 
generous  spirit,  and  of  much  more  than  ordinary  popularity  as  a  Preacher.  In  his  theolo- 
gical views  he  is  believed  to  have  been  an  Arian.  He  was  greatly  esteemed  by  all  denomina- 
tions. 


EZRA   SHAW   GOODWIN.  429 

Present.  Some  Scriptural  Readings  compared  with  some  Unscriptural 
Sayings  :  Tracts  of  tlie  American  Unitarian  Association,  No.  66,  1st 
Series.  The  Shipwrecked  Coaster.  Token  for  1S33  :  After  his  death,  a 
small  Volume  of  his  Sermons  was  published,  prefaced  by  a  brief  Memoir 
of  his  life. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Syracuse,  November  3,    1862. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  cannot  claim  to  have  been  very  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  Rev.  Ezra  Shaw  Goodwin,  though  my  personal  recollections  of  him,  in 
connection  with  what  I  knew  of  the  general  estimate  of  his  character  among 
his  intelligent  friends  and  contemporaries,  will  perhaps  be  sufficient  for  your 
purpose.  The  first  recollection  I  have  of  him  was  his  preaching  at  the  Stone 
Chapel  in  Boston  and  dining  at  my  father's,  as  early,  I  should  think,  as  1815 
or  1816.  After  this,  I  often  saw  him  on  his  visits  to  the  family  of  Judge 
Davis,  whose  daughter  he  had  married,  and  who  lived  in  our  immediate 
neighbourhood.  Indeed,  I  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting  him  occasionally,  for 
some  ten  or  fifteen  years,  until  within  a  short  time  previous  to  his  death. 

Mr.  Goodwin,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  was  rather  above  than  below  the 
ordinarj'^  height,  and  every  way  M'ell  proportioned.  The  expression  of  his 
countenance,  though  not  sad,  was  sedate  and  thoughtful,  and  his  general  air 
was  that  of  a  student.  He  had  great  kindliness  and  ingenuousness  of  temper, 
and  attracted  his  friends  very  near  to  him,  while  he  rarely,  if  ever,  made  an 
enemy.  He  possessed  good  social  qualities,  and  was  always  discreet  and 
edifying  in  his  conversation,  though  I  should  call  him  rather  a  good  talker 
than  a  great  talker.  His  general  bearing  in  the  community  in  which  he  lived 
was  such  that  even  those  who.se  religious  opinions  differed  most  widely  from 
his  own,  were  not  slow  to  acknowledge  the  general  purity  of  his  character, 
or,  after  he  was  gone,  to  render  due  honour  to  his  memory. 

Mr.  Goodwin  possessed  a  vigorous  and  inquisitive  mind,  and  had  accumulated 
a  large  store  of  general  as  well  as  professional  knowledge.  He  had  a  great 
fondness  for  philosophical  inquiry,  while  at  the  same  time  he  took  great 
delight  in  the  study  of  nature.  His  conversation  would  impress  you  at  once 
with  the  idea  that  he  had  not  been  satisfied  to  remain  in  any  one  corner  of 
the  great  field  of  knowledge,  but  was  at  home  in  various  parts  of  it,  and  he 
would  sometimes  give  forth  the  most  mature  and  well-digested  thoughts  on 
subjects  upon  which  he  had  scarcel}--  been  supposed  to  have  reflected  at  all. 
He  had  an  uncommonly  quick  and  retentive  memory.  He  was  fond  of  poetry, 
and  his  memory  seemed  a  vast  repository  of  the  most  beautiful  extracts  from 
the  best  English  poets,  both  ancient  and  modern.  He  was  a  great  proficient 
in  the  original  languages  of  the  Scriptures,  and  took  a  high  rank  among  the 
Biblical  Critics  of  the  day.  His  articles  in  the  Christian  Examiner,  on  the 
terms  atov  and  aicoviog",  attracted  great  attention  among  the  students  of  the 
New  Testament,  and  even  those  who  dissented  most  earnestly  from  the  author's 
conclusions,  still  gave  him  the  credit  of  having  conducted  his  argument  with 
much  learning  and  ingenuity. 

In  the  pulpit  Mr.  Goodwin  was  attractive  by  his  simplicity,  his  earnestness, 
his  good  sense,  his  perspicuous  and  graceful  style,  rather  than  by  any  remark- 
able force  or  brilliancy  either  of  matter  or  manner.  What  his  particular 
views  in  respect  to  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ  were  I  do  not  know;  but 
whatever  they  were,  I  do  not  believe  they  were  made  prominent  in  his 
preaching.  The  fact,  however,  that  he  was  firmly  persuaded  of  the  truth 
of  the  general  system  which  he  embraced,  is  undoubted.  x\t  a  meeting  of  the 
Barnstable  Association,  several  years  before  his  death,  one  of  the  clergymen 


430  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

present,  holding  different  views  from  Mr.  Goodwin,  turning  to  him,  said,  "What 
would  you  give,  Sir,  to  see  your  views  of  religion  prevail  over  the  world?" 
He  replied  witli  the  utmost  earnestness, —  «<  What  would  I  give.  Sir?  I  would 
make  a  sacrifice  of  all  that  I  possess  on  earth,  and  upon  the  pile  I  would  cast 
my  own  bodj'."  I  understand  that  a  volume  of  Mr.  Goodwin's  sermons  has 
been  published  since  his  death;  and  from  these,  doubtless,  a  more  definite 
opinion  of  his  peculiar  religious  views  might  be  formed,  than  I,  without  having 
read  the  sermons,  could  venture  to  express. 

Yours  respectfully, 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


•♦- 


ANDREWS   NORTON.^ 

1809—1853. 

Andrews  Norton,  the  youngest  child  of  Samuel  and  Jane  Norton, 
was  born  at  Hingham,  Mass.,  December  31,  1786.  He  was  descended 
from  the  Rev.  John  Norton,  of  Hingham,  a  nephew  of  the  celebrated  John 
Norton,  of  Ipswich,  and  afterwards  of  Boston.  Grave  and  studious  from 
bis  childhood,  he  was  fitted  for  College  at  the  Derby  Academy  in  Hing- 
ham, then  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Abner  Lincoln,  and,  in  1801,  was  ad- 
mitted a  Sophomore  at  Harvard.  He  graduated  in  1804,  the  youngest  of 
his  class,  with  a  high  character  for  both  scholarship  and  moral  worth.  The 
next  four  years  he  devoted  to  theological  and  other  kindred  studies,  and 
did  not  commence  preaching  till  1809,  At  that  time  he  accepted  an  invi- 
tation to  supply  the  pulpit  in  Augusta,  Me. ;  but,  after  preaching  there  a 
few  Sabbaths,  he  was  chosen  Tutor  in  Bowdoin  College,  which  office  he 
accepted,  entering  immediately  on  its  duties.  Here  he  remained  a  year, 
and  then  returned  to  Cambridge. 

In  1811  he  was  appointed  Tutor  in  Mathematics  in  Harvard  College,  and 
accepted  the  office,  but  resigned  it  at  the  close  of  the  year.  In  1812  he 
established  a  new  periodical  publication,  under  the  title  of  the  General 
llepository  and  Review,  which,  however,  continued  for  only  two  years.  It 
was  very  explicit  in  the  expression,  and  earnest  in  the  defence,  of  Unita- 
rian views,  and  was  conducted  with  uncommon  learning  and  ability.  In  1818 
he  was  chosen  Librarian  of  the  College  ;  and  performed  the  duties  of  the 
office  with  great  fidelity  for  eight  years.  The  same  year  in  which  he  became 
Librarian,  he  was  also  appointed  Lecturer  on  the  Criticism  and  Interpre- 
tation of  the  Scriptures,  under  the  bequest  of  the  Hon.  Samuel  Dexter. 
In  1819  he  was  elected  Dexter  Professor  of  Sacred  Literature  in  the  New 
Divinity  School  at  Cambridge  ; —  an  office  in  which  there  was  full  scope 
for  his  ample  stores  of  critical  knowledge.  His  Inaugural  Address  was 
published.  In  1822  he  delivered  an  Address  before  the  University,  at  the 
Funeral  of  Professor  Frisbie,  one  of  his  most  valued  friends,  whose  Lite- 
rary Remains  he  afterwards  published  with  Notices  of  his  Life  and  Charac- 
ter—  a  similar  service  he  had  performed  in  1814,  in  respect  to  another 

•  Dr.  NewelPs  Commem.  Disc. — Christ.  Exam.,  1853. 


ANDREWS   NORTON.  431 

friend, — Charles  Eliot,  whose  early  death  he  felt  as  a  sore  bereavement. 
In  the  earnest  discussions  which  took  place,  in  1824  and  '25,  respecting 
the  College,  and  the  relation  of  the  Corporation  to  the  Immediate  Govern- 
ment, he  took  an  active  part.  His  «'  Remarks  on  a  Report  of  a  Committee 
of  the  Board  of  Overseers,"  proposing  certain  changes  in  the  instruction 
and  discipline  of  the  College,  were  published  in  1824.  In  ]826  he  under- 
took the  collection  and  republication  of  the  Poems  of  Mrs.  Hemans  in  this 
country.  In  1828  he  passed  a  few  months  in  England,  with  great  satis- 
faction and  profit.  In  1830,  he  resigned  his  Professorship,  but  still  con- 
tinued to  devote  himself  to  literary  and  theological  pursuits.  In  1833  he 
published  a  pamphlet  that  attracted  no  little  attention,  entitled  "  State- 
ment of  Reasons  for  Disbelief  in  the  Trinitarian  Doctrine."  The  same 
year  he  commenced,  in  connection  with  liis  friend,  Charles  Folsom,  Esq., 
the  publication  of  the  "Select  Journal  of  Foreign  Literature,"  in  which 
there  was  also  much  original  matter  furnished  by  himself.  In  1837  was 
published  the  first  volume  of  his  elaborate  work  on  the  "  Genuineness  of 
the  Gospels  ;" — a  work  which  he  had  commenced  in  1819,  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  completing  it  in  six  months.  In  1839,  at  tlie  request  of  the 
Alumni  of  tlie  Divinity  School,  he  delivered  the  First  Annual  Discourse 
before  them,  afterwards  published,  "  On  the  Latest  Form  of  Infidelity." 
This  led  to  a  controversy,  which  gave  him  the  opportunity  of  more  fully 
illustrating  and  vindicating  his  own  views.  In  1844  he  published  the 
second  and  third  volumes  of  his  work  on  the  "  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels." 
In  1852  he  publislied  a  volume  entitled  "  Tracts  on  Christianity,"  com- 
posed chiefly  of  his  larger  Essays  and  Discourses,  which  had  before 
appeared  in  a  separate  form.  He  left  behind  him,  fully  prepared  fur  the 
press,  a  Translation  of  the  Gospels,  with  Notes,  on  which  he  had  been 
engaged  for  many  years. 

Besides  his  more  elaborate  works,  Mr.  Norton  was  a  liberal  contributor 
to  different  periodicals,  and  some  of  these  articles  may  be  reckoned  among 
the  ablest  productions  of  his  pen. 

In  the  autumn  of  1849  he  was  prostrated  by  a  severe  illness,  from  the 
effects  of  which  he  never  fully  recovered  By  the  advice  of  his  physician, 
he  passed  the  following  summer  at  Newport,  and  with  such  decided  advan- 
tage to  his  health  that  he  resolved  to  make  it  his  future  summer  residence. 
In  the  summer  of  1853  it  became  apparent  that  his  strength  was  declining, 
and  that  the  bracing  air  had  lost  its  power  to  restore  it.  At  the  close  of 
summer  he  was  unable  to  leave  his  room  ;  and  he  lingered,  in  perfect  calm- 
ness, till  Sunday  evening,  September  18,  when  he  finished  his  earthly 
course. 

In  1821  Mr.  Norton  was  married  to  Catharine,  daughter  of  Samuel 
Eliot,  a  wealthy  and  highly  respectable  merchant  of  Boston,  He  left  four 
children,  a  son  of  high  literary  character  and  accomplishments,  and  three 
daughters.     Mrs.  Norton  still  (1862)  survives. 

I  never  saw  Mr.  Norton  but  twice,  and  in  each  case  was  in  his  company 
perhaps  an  hour.  The  first  time  was  about  1813,  when  I  was  a  student  in 
Yale  College,  and  he  the  Librarian  at  Harvard.  I  was  impressed  then 
chiefly  by  his  quiet  and  gentle  manner,  and  the  absence  of  every  thing  that 
indicated  a  consciousness  of  superiority.     My  last  interview  with  hira  was 


432  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

only  three  or  four  years  before  his  death,  and  was  of  a  nature  to  bring  me 
much  nearer  to  him,  and  give  me  a  clearer  insight  into  his  character.  He 
•was  suffering  from  feeble  health,  but  was  evidently  prosecuting  his  studies 
with  great  zeal.  lie  spoke  on  every  subject  with  a  deliberation  which 
might  have  been  almost  wearisome,  if  there  had  not  been  so  much  of  good 
sense,  and  point,  and  beauty  in  all  that  he  said.  I  think  it  probable  that 
I  found  him  the  more  communicative  and  cordial  from  the  fact  that  I  had 
vivid  and  grateful  recollections  of  certain  individuals  in  whom  he  felt  a  spe- 
cial interest.  His  whole  appearance  indicated  great  bodily  feebleness,  but 
his  tone  was  cheerful,  and  his  face  illuminated  witli  bright  sunshine.  I 
had  several  times  occasion  to  ask  favours  of  him,  and  he  always  conferred 
them  with  great  promptness  and  the  best  grace.  I  know  lie  had  great 
boldness,  as  well  as  great  acuteness,  in  controversy;  but  the  former,  though 
it  must  have  been  an  element  of  his  nature,  was  certainly  not  impressed 
upon  his  countenance 

FROM  THE  REV.  JAAZANIAII  CROSBY,  D.  D. 

Charlestown,  N.  H.,  July  22,  1864. 

My  dear  Friend:  Professor  Norton,  concerning  whom  you  ask  for  my  recol- 
lections, was  my  classmate  in  Harvard  College,  and  my  personal  acquain- 
tance with  him  was  confined  to  the  period  of  our  college  course —  that  is  from 
1800  to  1804.  During  this  time  I  was  in  quite  intimate  relations  with  him, 
and  had  every  opportunity  of  noticing  his  peculiar  developments,  and  forming 
an  accurate  judgment  of  his  character.  It  is  due  to  candour  to  saj'  that,  though 
the  germ  of  his  future  distinction  was  doubtless  to  be  recognized  in  what  he 
was  there,  yet  probably  no  one  anticipated  that  he  would  ever  attain  the  high 
position,  especially  in  Biblical  learning,  which  he  afterwards  readied. 

Mr.  Norton  was  of  a  delicate  physical  organization,  being  somewhat  below  the 
medium  height,  of  a  spare  habit,  a  light  and  rather  pallid  complexion,  and  a 
countenance  reflecting  the  milder  rather  than  the  sterner  qualities.  His  voice, 
though  pleasant,  was  feeble,  and  had  not  sufficient  compass  to  fill  a  large  house, 
His  mind  was  inquisitive,  his  taste  refined  and  exact,  and  his  habits  of  study 
every  way  exemplary.  He  was  modest  even  to  diflSdence,  evidently  preferring 
to  keep  in  the  background,  rather  than  to  make  himself  in  any  way  prominent. 
He  was,  however,  sociable  and  cheerful  when  he  was  with  his  friends,  but 
never  uttered  a  word  inconsistent  with  the  strictest  delicacy  and  propriety. 
He  was  of  an  amiable  and  generous  spirit,  and  delighted  in  seeing  others  happy, 
and  in  contributing  to  their  happiness,  whenever  it  was  in  his  power. 

Though  Mr.  Norton's  habit  was  generally  very  sedate,  there  was  nothing 
about  him  that  savoured  of  misanthropy;  and  he  had  a  vein  of  quiet  humour, 
which  sometimes  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  amusement  of  his  friends. 
One  or  two  of  his  bright  pithy  sayings  now  occur  to  me.  There  was  a  young 
man  in  College,  a  son  of  a  highly  respectable  clergyman,  whose  reputation  for 
intellect  was  considerably  below  mediocrity;  and  there  was  another  whose 
reputation  for  gormandizing  was  at  least  proportionally  above  it;  and  it  so 
happened  that  these  two  characters,  each  remarkable  in  his  way,  sat  opposite 
to  each  other  at  the  table.  As  Norton  was  going  into  the  College  Commons, 
one  of  the  ."5tudents,  pointmg  to  the  voracious  eater,  said  to  him,  "  Yonder  is 
Charybdis."  «'  I  presume  so,"  said  Norton,  <<  for  I  see  Scylla  (silly)  oppo- 
site to  him."     One  of  our  classmates,  by  the  name  of  K 1,  a  genial  and 

somewhat  jovial  fellow,  who  was  not  afraid  of  a  glass  of  wine,  though  1 
believe  he  was  never  charged  with  the  excessive  use  of  it,  met  Norton,  who 
was  proverbial  for  total  abstinence,  one  morning  after  there  had  been  some 


ANDREWS    NORTON.  433 

rather  jubilant  meeting,  and  said  to  him,  "Well,  Norton,  I  understand  you 
were  intoxicated  last  evening."  To  which  he  replied,  "Well,  Iv-- — 1,  I 
understand  you  were  not,  and  I  should  like  to  know  wliich  of  the  two  facts 
is  the  most  singular."  While  he  was  a  Professor  at  Cambridge,  one  who  had 
formerly  been  a  student  under  him,  not  remarkable  for  force  of  intellect, 
underwent  some  great  change  in  his  religious  opinions;  and  when  some  one 
asked  Mr.  Norton  how  he  accounted  for  it,  he  replied  that  probably  some  one 
had  told  him  that  his  former  opinions  were  not  correct.  On  hearing  one  of 
the  students  read  something  rather  crude,  which  he  had  prepared  for  a  lite- 
rary or  theological  exercise,  he  simply  observed, — "  I  have  only  two  remarks 
to  make  upon  your  production, —  one  has  respect  to  the  matter,  the  otlier  to 
the  manner, —  that  is  all."  The  effect  of  his  witty  sayings  was  greatly 
increased  by  the  quiet  and  apparently  unconscious  manner  in  which  they  were 
uttered. 

I  have,  as  you  perceive,  limited  myself  chiefly  to  what  Professor  Norton  wa.s 
in  his  earlier  years;  but  there  are  many  still  living,  who  can  give  you  an  account 
of  him  at  a  later  period,  and  after  he  had  become,  in  his  department,  emphati- 
cally one  of  the  leading  men  of  his  time. 

Your  friend,  sincerely  and  affectionately, 

J.  CROSBY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JAMES  WALKER,  D.  D.,  L.  L.  D. 

PRESIDENT  OF  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY. 

Cambridge,  April  2,  1860. 
Dear   Sir:    You  ask  for  personal  reminiscences  of  the   late  Mr.  Andrews 
Norton.     The  utmost  that  I  can  do  is  to  record  my  impressions  of  his  charac- 
ter and  influence  as  a  Teacher  and  Theologian. 

I  can  remember,  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday,  the  almost  unbounded  defer- 
ence with  which  we,  who  constituted  his  first  class  in  the  Divinity  School  at 
Cambridge,  looked  up  to  him  in  the  lecture  room.  This  arose  in  part  from' 
his  undoubted  learning,  and  our  sense  of  his  caution  and  single-mindedness  ini 
the  pursuit  of  truth;  in  part,  also,  from  the  peculiar  character  of  his  intellect,, 
and  his  manner  of  teaching. 

His  mind  was  more  remarkable  for  the  clearness  and  distinctness  with  whicli. 
he  saw  what  was  within  the  field  of  his  vision,  than  for  the  largeness  of  that, 
field.  Accordingly,  in  making  up  his  opinions,  he  was  not  troubled,  as  many- 
are,  by  side  and  cross  lights;  and  hence  no  misgivings,  no  waverings,  no. 
sudden  changes.  Hence  also,  though  many  of  his  conclusions  startled  men  by 
their  novelty,  they  were  always  such  as  could  be  clearly  stated.  He  had  no 
taste  for  groping  in  the  dark;  certainly  none  for  making  a  public  exhibition  of 
his  gropings.  His  mind  was  eminently  positive,  and,  in  this  sense,  despotic. 
He  came  before  his  classes,  not  as  one  in  the  act  of  seeking  after  the  truth,, 
but  as  one  who  had  found  it. 

Something  was  also  due  to  another  peculiarity  in  his  mental  constitution.. 
Few  men  have  ever  lived  who  had  less  of  ill-will  or  unkindness;  nevertheles.s- 
his  nature  was  the  opposite  to  genfaZ,  ^understanding  that  word  to  mean  a 
readiness  to  take  up  and  sympathize  with,  and,  in  this  way,  to  enter  into  and 
comprehend,  a  great  variety  of  characters  and  convictions.     He  did  not  believe 
in  "  stand-points,"   nor  aspire  to   "  many-sidedness,"  of  which  we  hear  sO' 
much  now-a-days;  he  affected  neither  the  things  nor  the  names.    He  never  put 
himself  to  much  trouble  to  comprehend   the  ignorance  or  the  errors  of  othe-r 
people.     He  saw  things  so  clearly  himself,  and  stated  them  so  clearly,  that  if 
a  pupil  failed  to  be  convinced,  he  soon  gave  him  up;  and  it  was  the  dread  of 
this  which  did  more  perhaps  than  any  thing  else  to  keep  us  in  order. 

Vol.  VIII.  28 


434  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

The  charge  sometimes  brought  against  ^Ir.  Norton  of  inclining  to  German 
Rationalism,  can  only  raise  a  smile  in  those  of  us  who  remember  his  opinion 
of  German  scholarship  and  the  German  mind.  And  besides,  his  total  rejection, 
not  to  say  scorn,  of  the  transcendental  attempts  to  found  religion  on  intuitions 
threw  him  naturally  into  the  opposite  extreme.  I  never  knew  a  man  who 
built  his  faith  more  entirely  on  authority,  making  not  only  all  certainty  in 
religion,  but  well  grounded  trust  and  hope,  even  his  trust  in  providence,  and 
his  hope  of  another  life,  to  depend  on  Christianity,  accepted  as  a  miraculous 
dispensation. 

As  Mr.  Norton's  controversial  writings  have  been  much  read  and  relied  on, 
and  were  the  great  authority  on  the  subject  in  the  early  days  of  American 
Unitarianism,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  should  often  be  referred  to  as  one  of 
the  founders  of  the  sect  in  this  country'.  But  this,  also,  is  a  mistake.  He 
was  singularly  impatient  of  denominational  names  and  trammels  of  every 
kind,  and,  for  this  reason,  declined,  from  the  beginning,  to  take  part  in  the 
American  Unitarian  Association,  deeming  it  better  and  safer  to  leave  the  pro- 
gress of  truth  in  the  hands  of  the  scholars  and  philosophers  of  every  sect, — 
«'  of  such  men,"  to  use  his  own  words,  <<  as  Erasmus,  and  Grotius,  and  Locke, 
and  Le  Clerc."  In  short,  he  belonged  to  that  class  of  "  Liberal  Christians," 
who  believe,  wisely  or  unwisely,  that  the  spread  of  Unitarianism  in  the  Church 
is  hindered  rather  than  promoted,  by  the  existence  of  an  organized  and  active 
Body  of  Unitarians. 

Mr.  Norton  has  been  blamed  for  his  slowness  to  do  justice  either  to  the 
motives  or  the  abilities  of  his  opponents,  especially  when  they  went  farther 
than  he  in  dissent  from  received  opinions.  So  far  as  the  tendency  appears  in 
his  writings,  it  may  be  ascribed,  for  the  most  part,  to  intellectual  peculiarities 
above  mentioned,  or  to  impatience  at  seeing  the  cause  of  legitimate  progress  com- 
promised by  what  he  conceived  to  be  immature  and  offensive  novelties,  or  to  his 
profound  sense  of  the  responsibilities  incurred  by  those  who  undertake  to 
enlighten  the  public  mind.  That  he  could  treat  with  consideration  and  tender- 
ness the  extremes  of  dissent,  when  convinced  that  they  did  not  spring  from 
conceit,  a  love  of  notoriety,  or  from  shallow  or  hasty  scholarship,  is  seen  in 
his  admirable  letters  to  Blanco  White. 

His  great  work  on  the  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels  is  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant contributions  which  this  country  has  made  to  theological  literature. 
To  him,  also,  with  Mr.  Buckminster,  Professor  Stuart,  and  a  few  others,  we 
are  indebted  for  that  impulse  given  to  Biblical  study  in  New  England  early  in 
ithe  present  century,  which  has  been  of  incalculable  benefit  t6  all  denominations. 
I  remain,  Dear  Sir,  with  great  regard, 

Very  truly  and  respectfully  yours, 

JAMES  WALKER. 

FROM  THE  REV.  A.  P.  PEABODY.  D.  D. 

Portsmouth,  N.  II.,  December  10,  1859. 
My  -dear  Sir:  When  I  entered  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge,  Mr.  Norton 
was  still  in  office  as  Dexter  Professcy.  Being  deeply  interested  in  his  exegeti- 
cal  exercises  with  my  class,  1  often  called  upon  him  for  private  instruction, 
and  continued  to  do  so,  not  unficquently,  after  his  resignation.  After  my  .set- 
tlement, as  a  clergyman,  I  seldom  saw  liim;  yet  I  retained  so  vivid  an  impres- 
sion of  his  character,  and  so  grateful  a  remembrance  of  his  instructions,  that 
I  never  failed  to  make  diligent  inquiries  concerning  him  from  sucii  friends  as 
continued  to  see  him  frequently  to  the  last.  In  what  I  am  about  to  write,  I 
shall  only  hint  at  what  seem  to  mc  to  have  been  one  or  two  of  the  most 
striking  features  of  his  character. 


SAMUEL    COOPER    THACHER.  435 

It  may  surprise  you  that  I  should  begin  by  saying  that  he  had  the  most 
sceptical  mind  that  I  was  ever  acquainted  with.  He  held  in  utter  distrust  all 
appeals  to  the  emotional  nature.  He  wanted  for  every  item  of  belief  a  solid 
basis  of  fact,  and  superstructure  of  argument,  and  his  faith  would  reach  no 
higher  than  he  could  lay  this  superstructure,  stone  upon  stone,  as  in  indes- 
tructible cement.  He  had  no  relish,  nay  almost  a  contempt,  for  those  specu- 
lations about  spiritual  and  heavenly  things,  which  barely  take  a  hint  from 
Scripture  and  follow  it  out,  through  the  aid  of  the  imagination,  in  those  ele- 
vated regions  of  thought  in  which  I  believe  God  means  that  we  should  thus 
expatiate.  He  preferred  to  remain  in  those  lower  stories  of  the  edifice,  built 
on  the  one  foundation  Jesus  Christ,  where  he  could  test  the  strength  of  the 
floor  and  the  walls.  But  I  doubt  whether  there  ever  lived  a  firmer  believer  in 
the  Divine  mission  and  miracles  of  Christ,  and  in  what  he  considered  the 
fundamental  truths  of  his  revelation.  So  thoroughly  had  he  examined  the 
evidences  of  these  facts  and  truths,  that  he  acquired  the  habit  of  speaking  of 
them  as  he  would  of  sunrise,  or  the  phases  of  the  moon,  or  any  of  the  estab- 
lished facts  of  nature,  as  matters  of  course,  no  longer  admitting  of  question. 
He  expressed  the  same  quiet  unimpassioned  confidence,  in  the  days  of  his 
declining  strength,  and  in  the  very  last  hours  of  life,  and  passed  away,  not  with 
the  glow  of  enthusiastic  feeling  or  extatic  hope,  but  with  the  calm  mien  and 
utterance  of  one  who  is  starting  on  a  journey  to  some  place  in  his  own  neigh- 
bourhood, where  existence  and  locality  are  as  familiarly  known  to  him  as  the 
house  he  lives  in.  And  his  great  life-work, —  his  treatise  on  the  genuineness 
of  the  Gospels, —  in  the  estimation  of  many,  approaches  more  nearly  to  the 
precision  and  force  of  geometrical  demonstration  than  any  other  extant  similar 
course  of  reasoning  on  an  historical  or  moral  subject. 

Mr.  Norton  was  distinguished  by  another  quality,  not  less  remarkable  than 
his  scepticism  — indeed  truly  wonderful,  when  connected  with  so  much  native 
and  inevitable  scepticism, —  his  reverence.  Unsparing  as  he  was  in  his  criticism 
of  the  Sacred  text,  and  his  rejection  of  what  to  most  of  the  Christian  world 
were  sacred  verities,  he  alwa)'S  stood  in  the  presence  of  what  he  recognized 
as  the  Word  of  God  with  unshodden  feet.  I  can  hear  still  the  echo  of  his  in- 
tensely solemn  intonations  in  repeating,  in  his  own  version,  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  or  the  Parables.  And  with  all  his  seeming  coldness  as  a  critic,  he 
would  never  tolerate,  but  would  rebuke  with  a  vehemence  which  brought  back 
traditions  of  the  strong  passions  of  his  early  days,  the  slightest  approach  to 
flippancy  in  the  mention  of  the  Sacred  Books  or  their  contents. 
I  am,  as  ever,  very  sincerely  and  affectionately  yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 


SAMUEL  COOPER  THACHER.^ 

1811  —  1817. 

Samuel  Cooper  Thacher  was  a  descendant  of  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Thacher,  who  migrated  to  this  country  from  England  in  1635,  and  was  the 
first  minister  of  the  Old  South  Church,  Boston.  He  was  a  son  of  the  Rev. 
Peter  Thacher,  D.  D.,  who  was  called  from  Maiden  to  Brattle  Street 
Church,  Boston,  a  few  months  previous  to  the  birth  of  this  son.     His  pater- 

•  Greenwood's   Memoir. 


436  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

nal  ancestors  had  been  ministers  for  many  generations  ;  but  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  speak  of  tliem  here  particularly,  as  they  have  already  been  noticed 
in  their  proper  places  in  this  work. 

The  subject  of  this  sketcli,  from  early  childhood,  developed  fine  intellec- 
tual and  moral  qualities.  Having  received  his  elementary  education  at  the 
Boston  Free  Schools,  he  was  fitted  for  College  at  the  Latin  Grammar 
School,  then  under  the  instruction  of  the  late  Samuel  Hunt.  He  entered 
the  University  at  Cambridge  in  1800,  and  was  graduated  with  its  liighest 
honours  in  1804.  His  deportment,  during  his  college  course,  was  most 
exemplary,  and  secured  to  him  the  respect,  affection,  and  confidence  of  both 
his  teachers  and  fellow  students. 

While  he  was  yet  a  student  at  College,  he  had  formed  the  purpose  of 
entering  the  clerical  profession.  He  signified  this  in  a  letter  to  an  elder 
brother,  dated  December,  1803,  in  which  he  says, —  "To  this  object  all 
my  hopes  and  wishes  are  directed  ;  and  I  pray  God  that  I  may  not  be  per- 
mitted to  touch  his  ark  with  unholy  hands,"  Immediately  after  he  gradu- 
ated, he  commenced  his  theological  studies  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev. 
William  Kllery  Clianning,  between  whom  and  himself  there  ever  afterwards 
existed  the  most  close  and  confidential  friendship. 

lu  tbe  early  part  of  1805  Mr.  Thacher  took  charge  of  the  Boston  Latin 
Grammar  School,  during  a  vacancy  in  the  office  of  Head-master,  and  sub- 
sequently, for  a  short  time,  kept  a  private  school.  He  was,  at  this  period, 
associated  with  several  distinguished  individuals  in  Boston  in  conducting 
the  Monthly  Anthology, —  a  work  whose  high  literary  merit  was  univer- 
sally acknowledged. 

In  the  summer  of  1806  it  was  deemed  expedient  that  the  Kev.  Mr. 
Buckminster,  of  Brattle  Street  Church,  should  go  abroad  for  the  benefit  of 
his  health  ;  and  such  was  the  nature  of  his  disease*  that  prudence  required 
that  he  should  have  some  friend  to  accon)pany  him.  Mr.  Thacher  was 
selected  to  be  his  travelling  companion ;  and  he  gladly  acceded  to  the  pro- 
posal, not  only  on  account  of  the  high  estimate  which  he  had  of  Mr.  Buck- 
minster's  character,  but  because  the  opportunity  would  thus  be  secured  to 
him  of  accomplishing  a  favourite  object  in  visiting  foreign  countries.  Mr, 
Buckminster  sailed  for  England  in  May,  and  Mr.  Tliacher  a  few  weeks 
later:  they  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  in  July,  at  the  house  of  Samuel 
Williams,  Esq.,  in  London. 

Early  in  August  they  embarked  together  for  the  Continent,  and,  after  a 
disagreeable  passage  of  three  days,  landed  at  Harlingen  in  Holland. 
Thence  they  crossed  the  Zuyder  Zee  to  Amsterdam,  and  thence  proceeded 
to  Ilotterdam,  where  they  arrived  before  the  middle  of  the  month.  Here 
they  separated  for  a  while,  Mr.  Buckminster  setting  ofi"  on  a  tour  through 
Switzerland,  and  Mr.  Thacher  proceeding  by  Antwerp,  Brussels,  &c.  to 
Paris. 

Mr.  Buckminster  rejoined  his  friend  after  a  few  weeks'  separation  ;  and, 
in  a  letter  dated  at  Paris,  October  7th,  Mr.  Thacher  thus  writes  concern- 
ing him  : — 

"  "When  you  next  see  Mr.  L.,  after  remembering  me  to  him  with  all  possible  grati- 
tude and  regard,  tell  him  that,  though  I  am  unwilling  prematurely  to  raise  his  hopes, 
yet  I  believe  he  may  indulge  very  sanguine  expectations  of  the  complete  recovery  of 

•  Epilepsy. 


SAMUEL    COOPER    THACHER.  437 

Mr.  Buckminster.  lie  has  returned  from  Switzciland  not  merely  in  good,  but  ia 
robust,  liealth;  and  ever  siuce  his  arrival  ou  the  Continent,  and  for  a  niontii  before,  he 
has  had  no  return,  nor  symptom  of  a  return,  of  his  disorder." 

In  another  letter,  dated  December  20th,  he  sajs : — 

"  The  climate  of  France  agrees  wonderfully  with  Mr.  B.,  who  is  in  robust  and  unin- 
terrupted health,  although  occasioually  a  little  homesick.  His  greatest  danger,  at 
present,  is  of  becoming  bankrupt,  from  the  number  of  books  which  he  continues  to 
buy." 

The  two  friends,  having  been   detained  in   Paris  longer  than   they  had 

intended,  owing  to  the   restraints  imposed  by  the  IJerliu   decree,  did  not 

reach   London  till  February,  1807.      In   a  letter  written   by  Mr.  Thacher, 

after  his  arrival  in   England,  he  gives  the  following  graphic  description  of 

Buonaparte,  whom  he  saw  for  a  few  moments  at  St.  Cloud  : — 

'•'  It  was  at  morning  mass,  just  before  the  i)resent  war  was  announced;  and,  from 
his  wearied  and  unrefreshed  countenance,  I  did  not  envy  hihi  tlie  niglit  he  had  been 
passing.  He  had  the  appearance  of  a  man  exhausted  by  intensity  of  tiiought,  and  now 
vainly  endeavouring  to  escape  from  the  subject  of  his  meditations,  lie  was  perpetu- 
iilly  restless  and  uneasy;  some  part  of  his  body  was  in  continual  motion;  he  was  now 
swinging  backward  and  forward,  then  drawing  his  hand  over  bis  foreliead  and  face, 
and  then  taking  snuff  with  an  air  which  evidently  implied  that  lie  was  unconscious  of 
the  action.  The  whites  of  his  eyes  bear  a  much  greater  pmportion  to  the  coloured 
part  than  usual;  and  he  makes  them  more  remarkable  by  perpetually  rolling  them 
about.  It  is  a  very  curious  fict  that  it  is  still  a  dispute  what  is  their  colour,  and 
among  the  thousand  pictures  of  him  hung  up  in  Paris,  part  make  them  blue,  and  part 
hazel  or  black.  Upon  tlie  whole,  however,  he  has  a  very  tine  countenance,  and  1  must 
confess  my  opinion  of  his  capacity  was  heightened  by  observing  the  fine  proportions 
which  it  displays." 

Mr.  Thacher  sailed  with  his  friend  from  Liverpool  in  August,  and 
reached  home  in  September.  Shortly  after  his  return,  he  was  appointed 
Librarian  of  Harvard  College.  This  appointment  he  accepted,  and  eiitereU 
on  his  duties  in  1808.  In  connection  with  tiiis  office,  he  prosecuted  his 
theological  studies  at  Cambridge,  where  he  had  constant  access  to  the  best 
library  in  the  country.  He  still  continued  his  connection  with  the 
^lonthly  Anthology,  and,  by  his  graceful  and  poli.slied  pen,  did  much  to 
sustain  its  high  literary  reputation.  He  publislted  a  "  Review  of  the  Con- 
stitution and  Associate  Statutes  of  the  Tlieological  Seminary  in  Andover, 
with  a  Sketch  of  its  Rise  and  Progress  ;"  which  is  written  with  great 
ability,  and  is  one  of  the  most  important  pamphlets  in  the  Unitarian  con- 
troversy of  that  day.  It  called  forth  an  able  and  spirited  Reply  in  the 
Panoplist,  at  that  time  the  organ  of  the  Orthodox  party  ;  and  this,  in  turn, 
was  replied  to  by  Mr.  Thacher,  in  an  article  of  which  the  following  is  the 
concluding  paragraph  : — 

"  The  whole  object  which  induced  us  to  enter  into  this  unpleasant  controversy  has 
been  attained.  Wa  were  desirous  of  reminding  those  men  who  were  attacking  our 
friends,  invading  the  tranquillity  of  our  churches,  and  attempting  to  revive  the 
exploded  absurdities  of  the  dark  ages,  that  the  friends  of  rational  and  scri|)tural  reli- 
gion, though  enemies  of  theological  polemics,  are  not  so,  because  their  antagonists 
liave  nothing  vulnerable  in  their  system.  The  charge  which  they  bring,  that  we  have 
been  influenced  in  this  affair  by  a  desiie  of  interrupting  the  harmony  of  the  two  sects, 
[Calvinists  and  Hoi>kinsiaus,]  who  had  agreed  to  forget  their  differences,  will  not  be 
believed.  We  disclaim  the  imputation-  We  attacked  them,  not  because  they  are 
lIoi)kiiisians,  and  not  because  they  are  Calvinists,  but  because  their  conduct  and  their 
principles,  we  believe,  all  honest  Calvinists  and  Hopkinsians  ought  to  unite  in  con- 
demning. The  charges  we  have  educed  and  supported  are  not  to  be  thus  evaded.  It 
stands  on  record  against  this  institution,  and  all  the  waters  of  the  ocean  can  never 
wash  out  the  stain,  that  it  has  been  made  what  it  is,  by  perverting  the  pious  liberality 
of  well-meaning  devotion,  and  sacrificing  the  first  principles  of  Protestantism  to  the 
gratificatiou  of  the  unholy  ambition  of  aspiring  heresiarchs." 


438  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  November,  1810,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Kirkland  was  inducted  to  tlie  Presi- 
deucy  of  Harvard  College  ;  aud,  on  that  occasion,  Mr.  Tliaoher  had  the 
honour  of  delivering  a  Congratulatory  Address  in  Latin.  "  I  had  then," 
says  Dr.  Greenwood,  "just  entered  College,  and  I  well  remember  the 
graceful  appearance  of  the  Orator,  and  the  praises  which  his  performance 
received  from  all  lips,  for  the  propriety  of  its  sentiments  and  the  elegance 
of  its  Latinity." 

Mr.  Thacher  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Boston  Association,  but  the 
exact  time  I  am  not  able  to  ascertain.  The  New  South  Church  in  Boston 
having  become  vacant  by  the  removal  of  Dr.  Kirkland  to  Cambridge,  Mr. 
T.  was  invited  to  preach  to  them  as  a  candidate  ;  and,  after  a  few  weeks' 
probation,  received  a  call  to  become  their  Pastor.  He  accepted  the  call, 
and  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  15th  of  May,  1811,  the  Sermon  on 
the  occasion  being  preached  by  President  Kirkland*  In  a  paper  which  he 
read  to  the  Ordaining  Council,  he  sa^s, — 

"  It  may  not  be  su])erfluous  to  add  that  I  regard  a  credible  i)rofession  of  fail  h  in 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  Messiah — a  profession  rendered  credible  by  such  demonstrations 
of  repentance  and  obedience  as,  in  the  judgment  of  cliarity,  may  evince  sincerity  —  as 
the  only  term  of  Christian  communion,  wliich  tlie  Scriptures  autliorize  me  to  require; 
and  of  consequence  that  I  embrace  every  one  who  professes  this  faith,  as  a  friend  and 
brother  in  the  Lord." 

Mr.  Thacher  entered  upon  his  professional  labours  with  great  zeal,  and 
won,  in  an  uncommon  degree,  the  affectionate  regards  of  his  people.  Be- 
fore many  months,  however,  his  health  began  to  decline,  and,  in  the  spring 
of  the  year  succeeding  his  settlement,  he  journeyed,  for  the  benefit  of  his 
health,  by  a  somewhat  circuitous  route,  to  Saratoga  Springs.  Having 
remained  there  some  little  time,  and  received,  as  he  supposed,  important 
benefit  from  the  waters,  he  set  out  to  return.  But  the  fatigue  of  the 
journey  and  the  heat  of  the  weather  proved  too  much  for  his  enfeebled 
constitution.  At  Worcester  he  was  attacked  with  bleeding  at  the  lungs, 
by  which  he  was  detained  there  nearly  a  month  ;  and,  when  he  had  recov- 
ered strength  enough  to  travel  by  slow  stages,  he  proceeded  as  far  towards 
home  as  Brighton,  where  he  stayed  some  time  in  the  family  of  his  friend, 
Gorham  Parsons,  Esq.,  amidst  all  the  alleviations  which  the  most  devoted 
kindness  could  furnish.  He  returned  to  his  charge  in  November,  and 
resumed  his  public  labours  ih  a  Discourse  on  "  Recovery  from  Dangerous 
Sickness."  An  eloquent  extract  from  the  Sermon  has  been  preserved,  of 
which  the  following  is  a  part : — 

"  The  last  duty  to  which  I  have  either  time  or  strength  to  call  your  attention,  is  the 
duty  of  complete  trust  in  God.  And  here,  my  friends,  is  the  reward  and  triumph  of  a 
life  of  religion.  The  time  to  try  the  value  of  the  maxims  on  which  our  lives  have 
been  formed,  is  the  hour  of  severe  sickness.  The  animating  bustle  and  contentions  of 
life  no  longer  engage  our  attention;  our  ambitious  hopes  are  over;  the  sound  of  lame 
grows  dull  to  the  car;  the  voice  of  tlattery  no  longer  soothes  us;  and  "  all  the  wor- 
shipped pageantry"  of  pride  is  fled  from  before  our  eyes.  Then  it  is  that  we  fall  back 
on  the  resources  of  our  own  minds.  The  world  deserts  us,  and  we  feel,  as  it  were, 
alone  in  the  universe  with  our  God.  How  miserable  is  that  man  who  feels  himself,  tor 
the  first  time,  in  this  dread  society;  whose  life  has  been  passed  in  shaking  oft'  the 
thought  of  futurity,  till  the  voice  of  death  now  forces  it  in  thunder  on  his  ears!  llow 
blest  is  he  whose  life  has  been  made  a  scene  of  preparation  for  such  an  hour;  spent  in 
habitual  communion  with  God,  in  humble  desires  to  gain  his  approbation,  aud  in  form- 
ing himself  for  that  pure  society  to  which  death  is  about  to  introduce  him;  and  who, 
now  that  flesh  and  heart  fail  him,  can  stretch  his  feeble  hand,  and  lift  his  languid  eye 
to  Heaven,  and  say,  '  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart  and  my  portion  forever.'" 


SAMUEL    COOPER    THACHER.  439 

In  the  month  of  June,  while  Mr.  Thacher  was  absent  on  his  journe}',  he 
received  a  great  shock  by  the  intelligence  of  the  death  of  his  friend  and 
fellow  traveller  in  foreign  lands,  Mr.  Buckniinster.  The  beautiful  sketch 
of  Mr.  13.,  prefixed  to  his  published  Sermons,  is  from  Mr.  Thacher's  pen  ; 
and  it  discovers  alike  the  overflowings  of  fond  affection,  and  a  faithful  and 
delicate  appreciation  of  a  remarkable  character. 

In  the  year  1814  the  old  meeting-house  in  Summer  Street,  whicli  had 
stood  nearly  a  century,  was  taken  down,  and  the  present  substantial  and 
beautiful  edifice  erected  in  its  place.  At  the  Opening  of  the  New  House, 
Mr.  Thacher  preached  a  Sermon  entitled  "An  Apology  for  Rational  and 
Evangelical  Christianity,"  which  was  shortly  after  published.  Dr.  Green- 
wood says  of  it,  that  "  it  became  a  general  topic  of  conversation  ;  and 
while,  by  one  portion  of  readers  it  was  praised  as  an  able  and  lucid  expo- 
sition of  intelligible  Christianity,  and  a  calm  and  manly  defence  of  those 
who  had  embraced  such  a  faith,  it  was  denounced  by  another  portion  as 
advancing  principles  subversive  of  what  they  called  the  peculiar  and  fun- 
damental doctrines  of  the  Gospel."  Not  long  after  this  he  preached  a 
Sermon  on  the  "  Unity  of  God  ;"  the  design  of  which,  as  expressed  by  hia 
biographer,  was  "  simply  to  state  what  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  was, 
and  how  irreconcilable  it  appeared  in  his  mind  to  the  doctrine,  so  plainly 
revealed  and  so  forcibly  inculcated  in  the  Scriptures,  of  the  Unity  of  the 
Divine  nature;  how  slender,  beside,  the  support  was  which  it  derived  from 
the  Bible  ;  and  how  expressly  it  was  contradicted  by  the  instructions,  the 
prayers  and  the  conduct  of  our  Saviour."  A  manuscript  copy  of  the  dis- 
course having  been  sent  across  the  water,  it  was  printed  there  without  the 
author's  knowledge,  and  was  subsequently  reprinted  more  than  once  in 
Massachusetts.  Both  these  sermons  contained  probably  a  more  formal 
and  vigorous  defence  of  Unitarian  views  than  had  been  previously  pre- 
sented in  any  sermons  published  in  this  country.  In  the  same  year  that 
this  latter  sermon  was  preached,  he  superintended  the  Boston  edition  of 
Yates'  Vindication  of  Unitarianism,  to  which  he  added  "  A  Dissertation 
on  the  kind  and  degree  of  evidence  necessary  to  establish  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  and  by  which  we  might  expect  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
would  be  supported  in  the  Scriptures." 

In  the  autumn  of  1815  he  had  another  attack  of  hemorrhage  from  the 
lungs,  followed  by  a  prostration  of  strength  that  quite  unfitted  him  for 
active  labour.  Having  passed  the  winter  and  spring  in  a  state  of  great 
debility,  his  physicians  recommended  that  he  should  cross  the  ocean,  and 
his  congregation  generously  concurred  in  carrying  out  the  measure.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  the  month  of  August,  he  took  leave  of  his  friends  amidst  the 
tenderest  anxieties  and  deepest  regrets,  and  embarked  for  Liverpool,  where 
he  arrived,  after  a  pleasant  voyage  and  with  improved  health,  sometime  in 
September.  On  reaching  London,  he  consulted  the  most  eminent  physi- 
cians, and  they  united  in  the  opinion  that  his  lungs  were  not  seriously 
affected,  but  still  that  there  existed  a  powerful  tendency  to  morbid  affec- 
tion, which  required  that  he  should  resort  to  a  different  climate  ;  and  the- 
place  which  they  at  length  selected  for  his  winter's  residence*  was  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope.  Accordingly,  he  embarked  about  the  20th  of  October,  and, 
after  a  much  more  comfortable  voyage  than  he  had  anticipated,  arrived  at. 


440  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

the  Cape  on  the  last  day  of  tlie  year.  At  Cape  Town,  where  he  first  stop- 
ped, he  met  with  great  hospitality,  particularly  from  a  family  who  had  been 
in  Boston,  and  had  shared  the  kindness  of  his  own  relatives.  In  conse- 
quence, however,  of  an  unpleasant  Southeast  wind,  which  prevailed  at 
Cape  Town,  pouring  over  the  Table  Mountain  in  hot  and  violent  gusts,  he 
removed,  after  a  few  days,  to  a  village  called  Stellenbosch,  about  twenty- 
five  miles  distant,  which  he  describes  as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  resi- 
dences in  the  world. 

Mr.  Thacher  remained  at  this  village,  surrounded  with  much  that  was 
attractive  in  nature,  and  having  access  withal  to  some  very  good  society, 
till  the  beginning  of  April  ;  though  it  would  seem  that,  during  the  latter 
part  of  his  residence  there,  his  health  had  improved  less  than  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  hope.  Early  in  April,  he  set  sail  for  England,  and,  on 
the  18th  day  of  the  passage,  the  ship  suddenly  sprung  aleak,  and  touk  in 
water  so  rapidly  as  to  excite  great  alarm  among  the  passengers  ;  and  some 
of  them  left  her  at  the  Island  of  Ascension.  Mr.  Thacher,  however,  in 
consequence  of  the  assurance  of  the  Captain  that  there  was  no  danger, 
remained  on  board  ;  and,  on  the  25th  of  June,  was  safely  landed  at  Has- 
tings, whence  he  proceeded  directly  to  London. 

It  was  evident  that  his  health  had  suffered,  rather  than  been  improved, 
by  the  voyage  ;  though,  after  being  a  few  weeks  in  England,  he  seemed  to 
have  recovered  in  a  great  degree  the  strength  which  he  had  lost.  He  had 
hoped  and  expected  to  be  able  now  to  return  home;  but  his  medical 
advisers  in  London  thought  it  would  be  a  hazardous  experiment,  and 
advised  him,  at  the  expense  of  undergoing  a  yet  more  protracted  absence 
from  his  country  and  his  friends,  to  pass  the  following  winter  in  a  milder 
climate.  In  deference  to  their  judgment  he  repaired  to  Paris,  towards 
the  end  of  August,  and,  after  remaining  there  a  few  weeks,  passed  on  to 
Moulins,  the  chief  town  in  the  Department  of  the  Allier, —  a  place  cele- 
brated for  the  mildness  and  salubrity  of  its  climate.  From  the  time  that 
he  arrived  in  France  his  health  rapidly  declined  :  and  it  was  manifest  to 
all  but  himself  that  the  time  of  his  departure  was  at  hand.  On  the  17th 
of  December,  he  was  cheered  by  a  visit  from  his  friend.  Professor  Edward 
Everett,  who,  being  disappointed  in  not  finding  him  in  Paris,  had  made 
the  journey  from  Paris  to  Moulins  on  purpose  to  see  him.  The  following 
extract  of  a  letter,  written  by  Mr.  Everett  from  Paris  to  Judge  Thacher, 
furnishes  an  affecting  narrative  of  the  close  of  Mr.  Thacher's  life  : — 

"  Other  letters  will  perhaps  inform  you  of  every  interesting  circumstance  relative  to 
this  event;  and  from  Mr.  Thompson's  family  you  will  gather  in  the  spring  the  most 
particular  accounts.  Their  constant  attentions,  wliicli contributed  not  a  little  to  render 
the  last  days  of  our  dear  brother  as  comfortable  as  could  have  been  hoped  ami  far 
more  so  than  might  have  been  expected,  in  a  foreign  land,  will  enable  them  to  satisfv, 
to  its  extent,  your  curiosif  in  this  respect.  But  I  cannot  forbear  mentioning  to  you 
what  I  liad  myself  an  oi)portunity  of  observing,  or  have  learned  from  liis  servant. 

•'  The  journey  to  Moulins  was  very  fatiguing,  and  immediately  followed  by  symp- 
toms both  distressing  and  alarming.  This  seems  to  have  been  the  last  effort  of  nature 
to  throw  oft'  the  disease,  and,  not  being  successful,  as  from  the  cliaracter  of  the  com- 
plaint, such  an  effort  could  not  be, —  an  unfavourable  turn  was  to  be  anticipated.  But, 
as  the  local  symptoms  yielded,  under  the  treatment  of  Dr.  Bell,  as  the  lost  ai)petite 
began  to  n^turn,  and  as  there  was  the  promise  of  a  mild  and  j)leasant  winter,  instead 
of  apprehending  any  ultimate  bad  effect  of  this  attack,  it  seemed  only  to  have  delayed 
awhile  the  experiment  to  be  made  of  the  climate.  But  I  do  not  think  that  any  con- 
>Eiderab!e  j)ortion  of  the  strength  lost  in  this  severe  attack,  was  ever  recovered;  and  it 
•seems  to  have  put  the  delicate  springs  of  life,  already  so  long  and  greatly  strained,  to 


SAMUEL    COOPER    THACHER.  441 

a  trial  beyond  them  to  sustain.  Nevertheless  he  continued  to  go  out  in  pleasant 
weather,  and  even  declined  being  attended  on  his  walks.  He  was  able  to  take  his 
food  with  api)etite,  he  slei)t  well,  and  was  invariably  cheerful  and  tranquil.  His  cough, 
however,  a[ii)eared  to  gain,  and,  without  being,  at  single  efforts,  very  distressing,  or 
attended  at  all  uitli  loss  of  bloud,  was,  by  its  continuance,  very  exhausting. 

"  It  was  in  this  condition,  after  an  interval  of  about  seven  weeks  from  his  arrival  at 
Moulins,  that  I  saw  him.  I  had  been  much  grieved,  on  my  own  account,  at  finding  that 
he  had  left  Faris  but  four  days  before  1  reached  it;  and  I  determined  to  go  and  see 
him  as  soon  as  I  could  make  the  arrangement.  On  my  arriving  at  Moulins,  1  met  him 
walking  in  the  street,  much  altered  indeed  from  what  I  had  last  seen  him  at  home. 
The  wind  was  quite  violent,  and  I  immediately  accompanied  him  to  his  lodgings. 
That  was  the  last  time  but  one  that  h(,'  ever  went  out.  I  passed  the  time  I  was  there 
entirely  with  him ;  and,  though  it  fatigued  him  to  talk,  he  felt  interested  in  hearing 
me.  and  I  related  to  him  all  1  could  recall  of  my  travels  and  observations  in  various 
countries,  which  I  thought  would  amuse  him.  He  asked  some  questions,  but,  upoa 
the  whole,  his  attention  seemed  hxed  on  higher  things. 

"  The  day  that  I  left  him,  he  felt  himself  weaker  than  usual,  and  desired  Col.  Bur- 
roughs to  lend  him  his  arm  to  walk  out.  This  was  the  last  time  he  ever  went  abroad. 
When  I  bade  him  farewell,  wliich  1  strived  to  do  without  betraying  the  anxiety  and  sor- 
row 1  feit,  we  exchanged  the  expectation  of  meeting  in  Paris  in  the  spring,  and  he  added 
that  he  had  now  no  wish  but  to  return  to  America.  From  that  day  he  grew  weaker,  and 
I  soon  recei\*ed  a  letter  from  Mr.  Thompson,  mentioning  that  he  was  visibly  failing. 
The  1st  of  January,  in  the  afternoon,  he  was  seized  with  very  violent  pains,  and  was 
obliged  to  go  to  bed.  Dr.  Bell,  on  buing  called,  thought  it  his  duty,  as  he  has  himself 
written  me,  to  announce  to  him  that  he  could  probably  continue  but  a  few  hours. 
'  This  intelligence,'  says  Dr.  B.,  '  he  received  with  perfect  tranquillity  and  resignation; 
and  he  proceeded  to  make  some  arrangement  of  his  aflfairs.  His  pains  had  yielded  to 
the  ap|)licatious  made,  and  he  i)assed  the  night  better  than  was  fuared.  Capt.  Bur- 
roughs and  his  servant  Joseph  watched  with  him.  in  the  morning  his  ])ains  returned 
with  new  violence.  This  struggle  was  the  last,  and,  like  all  the  rest,  was  borne  with  a 
sweet  fortitude  that  makes  one  ashamed  of  impatience  at  the  little  sufferings  of  life. 
After  this  he  was  at  ease,  and,  though  he  said  but  little,  recognized  the  persons  around 
him.  and  discovered  himself  to  be  in  possession  of  his  reason,  as  his  calmness  evinced 
him  to  be  in  the  full  exerci.se  of  liis  faith.  A  little  alter  twtdve  lie  called  for  some 
syrup  to  moisten  his  lips.  His  servant  gave  it  him  ;  he  swallowed  it  without  difficulty; 
rested  his  cheek  upon  his  hand,  and  ceased  to  breathe! — "  He  died,'  said  his  servant, 
'  like  an  angel.'  The  last  mournful  offices  were  performed  with  every  possible  mark 
of  respect,  and  Dr.  Bell  read  prayers  over  his  lifeless  remains." 

Besides  the  Sermons,  &c.  already  mentioned,  Mr.  Thacher  published  more 
or  less  iu  nearly  all  the  volumes  of  the  Anthology,  and  one  article  in  the 
General  Repository  and  Review.  Iu  1824  there  was  published  a  volume 
of  his  Sermons,  including  those  which  had  been  printed  in  his  lifetime,  in 
connection  with  a  Memoir  of  his  life  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Greenwood.  These 
sermons  are  written  with  excellent  taste,  and  are  evidently  the  productions 
of  a  highly  cultivated  mind.  Most  of  them  are  on  practical  subjects, 
though  there  are  several  which  indicate  very  clearly  some  of  the  distinctive 
features  of  the  author's  creed.  I  do  not  find  any  thing,  however,  to  show 
directly  what  rank  he  assigned  to  Jesus  Christ,  other  than  that  He  was 
not  God  ;  and  in  respect  to  the  doctrine  of  Atonement,  the  following  para- 
graph, from  his  Sermon  on  the 'Unity  of  God,  comes  nearer  to  an  expres- 
sion of  his  views  than  perhaps  any  thing  else  contained  in  the  volume. 

"  Another  circumstance  which  has  prevented  men  from  taking  a  calm  survey  of  this 
subject."  (the  Divine  Unity,)  ''  is  its  supposed  connection  with  what  is  called  the  doc- 
trine of  Atonement.  I  have,  on  other  occasions,  given  you  such  views  of  the  connec- 
tion of  the  death  of  our  Lord  with  human  salvation,  as  have  seemed  to  me  just  and 
evangelical.  I  shall  only  remark  at  ])resent,  that  there  is  no  view  of  the  nature  of 
our  Saviour,  more  eminently  inconsistent  with  every  idea  of  Atonement  than  that  of 
our  Trinitarian  brethren;  for  they  all  must  and  do  believe  that  Jesus  suffered  only  in 
his  human  nature.  It  would  be  too  monstrous  to  suppose  that  Almighty  God  Himself 
wept  in  agony;  that  He,  whose  nature  is  impassible,  endured  the  severest  tortures; 
that  the  Creator  of  the  Universe  was  the  scorn  and  mockery  of  his  sinful  creatures, 
died  by  their  hands,  and  left,  for  three  days,  the  Universe  without  a  Governor  !     Na- 


442  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

ture  without  a  God  !  This  is  too  horrible  to  be  directly  maintained  by  any  one.  As, 
therefore,  the  Divine  nature  could  not  suffer,  it  was  man  alone,  on  this  theory,  that 
died  for  us;  and  however  unwilling  to  be  so  conjoined,  it  is  certain  that  every  Trinita- 
riau  precisely  agrees  with  the  Socinian,  whom  he  so  much  abhors." 

FROM  PROFESSOR  ANDREWS  NORTON. 

Cambridge,  September  8,  1849. 

Dear  Sir  :  I  have  not  forgotten  your  request  that  I  would  furnish  you  with 
some  early  recollections  of  my  former  friend  and  college  classmate,  Mr. 
Thacher.  My  delay  in  writing  has  been  occasioned  by  various  circumstances, 
but  especially  by  the  feeling  that  I  had  nothing  to  tell  concerning  the  earlier 
portion  of  his  life, —  while  he  was  an  undergraduate,  and  before  he  became 
known  to  the  world, —  which  could  be  of  much  interest,  or  would  give  to 
others  such  an  impression  of  his  character,  during  this  early  period,  as  is  left 
in  the  memory  of  his  few  surviving  contemporary  fiiends.  Infoimation  con- 
cerning his  later  life  is  afforded  by  the  excellent  Memoir  of  him  by  Dr.  Green- 
wood. 

lie  took  rank  as  the  first  scholar  of  our  class.  But  the  standard  of  schol- 
arship was  then  very  low  in  the  College  as  well  as  in  the  country  generally. 
Nor  did  the  College  afford  us  great  encouragement,  or  very  much  guidance  and 
assistance  in  our  studies.  A  few  of  our  classmates,  among  whom  Thacher  — 
to  go  back  to  the  familiar  name  by  which  we  then  called  him  —  was  one  of 
those  who  took  the  lead,  determined  to  hold  meetings  for  the  purpose  of 
encouraging  and  assisting  one  another  in  the  study  of  the  ancient  classics.  I 
apprehend,  however,  that  but  little  was  effected,  except  perhaps  in  sti'ength- 
ening  our  taste  for  this  study.  Books  that  we  wanted,  even  books  in  our  own 
language,  which  are  now  within  the  reach  of  all,  were  then  unattainable  by  us. 
I  happen  to  have  lying  beside  me  what  1  regard  as  of  some  curiosity  as  a  docu- 
ment on  the  literary  history  of  our  counti'y.  It  is  professedly  a  "  Catalogue 
of  all  the  books  printed  in  the  United  States,"  (that  is,  as  is  explained,  it  was 
"  intended  to  include  all  of  general  sale,  whether  original  or  reprinted  ") 
««  published  by  the  booksellers  of  Boston."  It  was  published  in  tlje  year 
1804, —  the  year  in  which  the  class  was  graduated  of  which  Mr.  Thacher  and 
myself  were  members.  It  is  comprised  in  seventy-five  small  loosely  printed 
duodecimo  pages.  A  very  large  proportion  of  the  titles  are  those  of  forgotten 
works  of  that  day,  or  of  other  books  of  light  reading,  of  little  more  value. 
The  whole  collection  would,  at  the  present  time,  if  advertised  b}'  sale  at  auc- 
tion, hardly  draw  together  any  purchasers.  But  one  purpose  of  putting  forth 
this  Catalogue,  as  expressed  on  its  title  page,  was  "  that  the  public  ma}'  see 
the  rapid  progress  of  book  printing  in  a  country  where,  twenty  years  since, 
scarcely  a  book  was  published." 

It  may  be  concluded  that  the  atmosphere  about  us  was  not  much  impreg- 
nated with  literature.  But  there  were  those,  and  Thacher  among  them,  who 
were  not  idle,  and  whose  desultory  studies  turned  to  some  account; —  the 
more,  perhaps,  because  they  were  pursued  from  free  will  and  inclination,  and 
there  was  no  danger  that  our  appetites  should  be  distracted  or  cloyed  by  the 
variety  and  abundance  of  the  feast  set  before  us.  Without  doubt,  if  Mr. 
Thacher's  life  had  been  prolonged,  his  industry,  his  love  of  learning,  and  the 
clearness  and  comprehensiveness  of  his  mind,  would  have  enabled  him,  even 
under  the  oppressive  labours  of  his  profession,  to  become  a  clergyman  of  very 
respectable  theological  attainments,  and  a  well  informed  gentleman. 

As  an  undergraduate,  he  was  more  distinguished  from  those  about  him  than 
he  was  at  a  later  period  of  life,  because  the  qualities  which  he  then  exhibited 
are  far  more  rare  at  so  earl}'  an  age.  Young  men  are  apt  to  be  shrewd  ob- 
servers of  what  is  defective  or  unpleasant  in  character,  or  capable  of  being  vin- 


SAMUEL    COOPER    THACHER.  443 

dicated.  But  we  all  of  us  liked  Thaclier.  Nobody  was  jealous  of  his  superi- 
ority. I  recollect  that  a  classmate  applied  to  him  the  verses  with  which  Pope 
commences  his  chaiacter  of  Addison,  as  being 

"  One  whose  fires 

"  True  genius  handles  and  fair  fame  inspires; 
''  Blest  witli  each  talent  and  each  art  to  please." 

This  general  liking  of  him  was  produced  by  his  equable  and  amiable  tem- 
per, united  with  correct  conduct  and  proper  self-reliance.  He  was  free  not 
nierel}-  from  vice,  but  from  all  the  approaches  to  vice,  in  indecorous  conversa- 
tion and  manners,  which  young  men  sometimes  fall  into,  as  giving  them  a  bold 
and  manly  air.  Tiiere  was  no  distiust  of  his  piinciples  or  his  sincerity,  and 
every  one  felt  the  charm  of  iiis  gentlemanly  numncrs. 

A  little  more  than  three  years  after  our  cla.ss  had  left  College,  he  returned 
to  take  the  oflQce  of  Librarian.  1  was,  at  tliat  time,  resident  in  Cambridge, 
wiieie  the  younger  ofhceis  of  the  College,  with  some  others  associated  with 
them,  formed  a  very  agreeable  and  intellectual  society,  of  which  1  have  else- 
whei'e  —  in  a  short  Memoir  of  Professor  Frisbie  —  given  some  notice.  I 
remember  the  renuirk  of  my  fiiend  whom  I  have  just  named,  concerning  Mr. 
Thacher,  that  he  reminded  him  of  what  Cumberland,  in  his  Memoirs,  said  of 
Soame  Jenyns, —  that  his  company  at  our  meetings  was  like  bread  at  dinner, 
which  we  cannot  dispense  with,  whatever  else  ma}'  be  on  the  table.  I  have 
not  quoted  Cumberland's  words,  nor  did   he,  but  1  have  given  his  meaning. 

I  have  just  been  looking  over  —  1  presume  for  the  last  time  —  a  pile  of  Mr. 
Thacher's  letters  to  me,  written  while  we  were  undergraduates,  and  for 
some  years  after.  I  will  venture  to  give  one  of  them,  (the}'  all  much  resem- 
ble each  other,)  which  may  illustrate  the  traits  of  character  I  have  touched 
upon. 

Cambridge,  October,  1807. 
'•■  My  dear  Norton:  Tour  note — I  will  not  dignify  it  with  the  name  of  letter —  vexed 
me  as  much  as  any  tiiingconld  from  one  for  whom  I  cannot  for  more  than  a  minute  feel 
any  thing  but  affection.  If  you  meant  it  as  a  challenge  to  decide  which  of  us  can  write 
tlie  shortest  letter,  meaning  by  that,  wliich  of  us  can  say  the  least  on  the  least  paper, 
1  think  1  may  venture  to  encounter  you.  But  if  you  mean  to  .'■ay  which  of  us  can  say 
the  least  on  the  vtost  paper,  1  am  afraid  1  shall  he  obliged  to  succumb;  for  really  at  the 
arts  of  leaving  large  margins,  separating  words  by  long  intervals,  and  other  goodly 
devices,  you  are  quite  unrivalled. 

"  '  Ludo  niultum  frustraque  laboro 
" '  Ausus  idem.' 

"  In  good  truth,  however,  the  only  condition  on  which  you  can  expect  pardon  for 
such  scandalous  brevity,  is  to  come  in  person  to  Cambridge  to  make  your  apologies. 
On  Tuesday  is  Exhibition;  when  the  Muses,  you  know,  are  always  in  holyday  aitire, 
particularly  Melpomene.  Their  cliarnis,  added  to  the  usual  attractions  of  the  place| 
aiust,  1  suppose,  be  irresistible.  As  then,  I  expect  to  see  you  so  soon,  there  can  be 
no  propriety  in  wasting  any  more  ink.  Now,  I  take  it,  here  is,  to  say  the  least,  as 
good  an  apology  for  concluding  a  letter  as  yours.     What  do  you  think  ? 

"  Yiiurs  always, 

"S.  C.  THACHER." 

"  How  would  you  delight  me  by  informing  me  of  your  intention  of  returning  to 
Cambridge.     I  should  think  that  the  days  that  have  passed  were  about  to  be  renewed 

'  Tecum  etenim  longos  memini  consumere  soles 
'  Et  tecum  primas  epulis  decerpere  noctes.'  " 

His  other  letters  are  characterized  by  the  same  playful  humour,  ease  and 
grace,  and  the  same  expression  of  kind  affections. 

Having  thrown  together  these  tevr  notices  of  the  early  character  of  Mr. 
Thacher,   I  find  myself  on  ground  pre-occupied  by  Mr.    Greenwood   in   his 


444  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Memoir  prefixed  to  the  Sermons  of  Mr.  Thacher,  publisVied  by  him.  No  one 
will  attempt  to  do  again  what  he  has  done  with  his  usual  taste,  feeling  and 
truth. 

M}'^  friends  Thacher,  Greenwood  and  Frisbie  !  Other  names  of  those  who 
have  passed  away  have  presented  themselves  to  my  mind,  while  writing, 
awakening  feelings  which  maj^  slumber,  but  not  die,  and  bringing  with  them 
associations  more  connected  with  another  life  than  the  present. 

The  epitaph  annexed  to  the  Memoir  of  Mr.  Greenwood  was  written  by  my- 
self. It  has  the  merit  that  there  is  nothing  said  in  it  which  I  did  not  believe 
to  be  true  when  I  wrote  it  ;  and  there  is  nothing  which,  after  an  interval  of 
thirty  years,  I  do  not  still  believe  to  be  true. 

It  will  give  me  pleasure  if  this  imperfect  sketch  of  the  early  character  of  Mr. 
Thacher  should  prove  of  any  service  to  you  in  your  work.  At  all  events,  I 
shall  not  regret  having  written  it,  if  you  will  accept  it  as  a  proof  of  my  good 
will.  With  sincere  respect. 

Dear  Sir,  yours  faithfully, 

ANDREWS  NORTON. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JAAZANIAH  CROSBY,  D.  D. 

CuARLESTOWN,  N.  H.,  December  4,  1861. 
My  dear  Friend:  My  acquaintance  with  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher  commenced 
with  Ills  collegiate  course  at  Cambridge,  when  we  entered  the  same  class  in  the 
year  1800.  He  was  then  not  more  than  fifteen  or  sixteen  j^ears  of  age;  but 
he  soon  became  a  universal  favourite.  Being  a  friend  to  all,  he  was  beloved  by 
all.  Ilis  speech  was  always  with  grace,  as  he  well  knew  how  to  answer 
every  man.  His  personal  appearance  was  remarkably  attractive,  and  in  his 
fine  open  countenance  you  might  have  read  equanimity,  mildness,  intelligence, 
benevolence.  To  no  one  could  have  been  more  justly  applied  the  couplet  of 
Pope : — 

"  Of  manners  gentle,  of  affections  mild, 
*'  In  wit  a  man,  simplicity  a  cliild." 

His  mind  was  of  a  high  order,  and  cultivated  with  commendable  diligence. 
His  qualifications  for  the  ministry  may  fairly  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  he 
was  the  immediate  successor  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Kirkland;  and  <'  a  man  he 
was  to  all  his  parish  dear,"  and  '<  passing  rich"  in  all  the  virtues  which  adorn 
the  human  character.  In  the  combination  of  virtues  which  he  so  beautifully 
exemplified  during  his  short  life,  he  has  left  a  memorial  which  will  show  itself 
proof  against  the  "  effacing  fingers  of  time."  "  Exegit  monumentum  »re 
perennius."  (Dum  verum  et  honestum,  dum  sapientia  et  mores  suavissimi, 
—  dum  pietas  erga  Deum, —  dum  comitas  et  caritas  erga  omnes, —  dum  haec 
ominia  in  honore  sunt,)  "  semper  honos  nomenque  tuum,  laudesque  manebunt." 
Your  friend  ever  and  affectionately,  J.  CROSBY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIERCE,  D.  D. 

Brookline.  March  29,  1849. 

My  dear  Sir:  The  Rev.  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher,  though  he  died  at  an  early 
age,  left  a  deep  impression  not  onl}-^  upon  the  people  to  whom  he  ministered, 
but  upon  the  whole  community  in  which  he  lived.  I  knew  him  more  or  less 
from  early  life,  and  was  a  member  of  the  same  Association  with  him  from  the 
time  of  Jiis  settlement  in  the  ministry  till  his  death.  It  is  easy  for  me,  there- 
fore, to  give  you  my  general  impressions  of  his  character. 

In  person  he  was  of  a  middling  stature  and  size.  His  features  were  regular, 
his  complexion  fair,  and  his  countenance  habitually  lighted  up  with  a  cheerful 


HOSEA    HILDRETH.  445 

smile.     His  manners  were  polished  in  a  remarkable  degree;  and  yet  there  was 
nothing  about  them  to  awaken  a  suspicion  of  his  entire  sincerity. 

The  general  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  as  a  Preacher  is  sufficiently 
indicated  by  the  fact  that  he  was  settled,  while  a  young  man,  in  one  of  the 
prominent  churches  in  Boston,  and,  as  long  as  he  was  able  to  preach,  fully 
sustained  himself  in  the  view  of  his  highly  intellectual  congregation.  His 
sermons  contained  much  well  digested  thought,  and  were  written  in  a  style 
of  great  purity  and  elegance.  But  they  were  sometimes  too  refined  for  common 
auditors;  and  his  voice  and  the  general  state  of  his  health  were  unfsivourable 
to  a  highly  impressive  elocution.  His  devotional  exercises  were  distinguished 
for  pertinence,  propriety  and  solemnity. 

In  his  pastoral  visits  he  was  most  truly  at  home.  He  possessed  the  finest 
social  qualities,  mingling  dignity  with  aflability,  and  cheerfulness  with  serious- 
ness. No  matter  into  what  circle  he  might  be  thrown,  he  always  maintained 
that  propriety  of  speech  and  behaviour,  which  conciliated  not  only  favour  to 
the  man  but  respect  to  his  office.  Hence  his  acquaintance  was  eagerly  desired 
by  his  people;  and,  as  his  health  was  feeble,  he  allowed  himself  more  time 
for  pastoral  intercourse  than  he  would  probabl}'',  under  other  circumstances, 
have  felt  able  to  spare  from  his  studies. 

He  had  the  rare  faculty  not  only  of  writing  on  subjects  of  religious  contro- 
versy, but,  what  is  more  unusual,  of  discussing  them  in  conversation,  without 
losing  his  good  temper.  His  Review  of  the  Statutes  of  the  Andover  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  published  in  the  Anthology  of  1808,  was  written  with  so 
much  ability  that  some  leading  men,  of  the  Calvinistic  or  Hopkmsian  school, 
pertinaciously  ascribed  it,  in  spite  of  assurances  to  the  contrary,  to  Chief 
Justice  Parsons. 

The  news  of  his  death,  occurring,  as  it  did,  in  a  distant  country,  produced  no 
ordinary  sensation  in  the  circle  in  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  move; 
and  even  at  this  distant  period  there  are  not  a  few  who  recall  his  bland  and 
amiable  manners,  his  instructive  conversation,  his  exemplary  deportment,  the 
workings  of  his  benign  and  gentle  spirit,  with  sad  and  grateful  interest. 

Your  affectionate  fiiend, 

JOHN  PIERCE. 


HOSEA   H1LDRETH.*= 

1811  —  1835. 

HosEA  HiLDRETH  was  born  at  Chelmsford,  Mass.,  on  the  2d  of  Jan- 
uary, 1782.  He  was  a  son  of  Timothy  and  Hannah  Hildretli,  and  fifth  in 
descent  on  both  the  father's  and  mother's  side,  (his  father  and  mother  be- 
ing cousins,)  from  Richard  Hildreth,  the  progenitor  of  all  the  New  England 
Hildreths,  an  emigrant  from  the  North  of  England  to  Massachusetts,  of 
which  Colony  he  was  admitted  a  freeman  in  16i3.  He  settled  first  in 
Woburn,  but  removed  in  1654  to  Chelmsford,  of  which  town  he  was  one  of 
the  original  grantees,  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of  which  many  of  his 
descendants  are  still  to  be  found.  Shortly  after  the  birth  of  Hosea,  his 
father  removed  to  Vermont,  and  settled  himself  as  a  farmer,  but  subse- 

•  MS.  from  his  Son,  Mr.  Richard  Hildreth. 


446  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

quently  returned  to  IMassachusetts,  and  purchased  a  farm  in  Sterling, 
Worcester  County,  where  he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

An  accident  to  one  of  Hosea's  arms,  which  incapacitated  hira  for  labour- 
ing on  a  farm,  turned  his  attention  to  study.  He  prepared  himself  for 
College  under  the  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Holcomb,*  then  the  Congre- 
gational minister  of  Sterling,  and,  in  due  time,  entered  at  Harvard,  where 
he  graduated  in  1805.  He  commenced  the  study  of  Divinity,  but,  having 
married  within  a  year  after  his  graduation,  he  resorted  to  teaching  as  a 
means  of  supporting  his  family.  Having  been  engaged  for  a  short  time  iu 
thi.s  way  at  Lynn,  he  went  to  Deerfield,  Mass.,  and  took  cliarge  of  the 
Academy  there,  where  he  remained  two  years.  He  then  taught  for  a  year 
at  Brighton,  near  Boston,  when  he  was  appointed  Professor  of  Mathe- 
matics and  Natural  Philosophy  at  Phillips  Exeter  Academy,  whither  he 
I'emoved  in  1811,  and  where  he  spent  the  next  fourteen  years.  Meanwhile, 
he  had  been  licensed  to  preach,  and,  on  first  moving  to  Exeter,  he  supplied 
the  pulpit  of  the  Congregational  Society  in  that  place,  of  which  the  Rev. 
Isaac  Hurdt  soon  after  became  Pastor.  He  was  subsequently  in  the  habit 
of  supplying  vacant  parishes  in  the  neighbourliood,  and  was  always  ready 
to  assist  his  brethren  in  the  region  around,  when  they  had  occasion  for  his 
services.  In  1825  he  removed  to  Gloucester,  Mass.,  and  was  ordained  and 
installed  minister  of  the  First  Parish  in  that  town,  on  the  3d  of  August, — ■ 
the  Sermon  on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Holmes,  of  Cam- 
bridge. As  Mr.  Hildreth  was  naturally  averse  to  controversy,  and  withal 
had  many  warm  friends, — laymen  and  clergymen, —  among  both  the  Ortho- 
dox and  the  Unitarians,  he  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  prevent  the 
division  between  the  two  parties  which  was  then  nearly  consummated.  He 
is  believed  to  have  been  the  last  minister  settled  in  Massachusetts  by  a 
Council  in  which  both  parties  were  represented  ;  and  the  last  who  exchanged 
indiscriminately  with  both.  For  a  long  time,  and  it  is  believed  even  when 
he  was  settled  at  Gloucester,  he  accepted  the  Orthodox  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity ;  though  his  subsequent  examinations  of  the  subject,  as  I  am 
assured  by  a  member  of  his  own  family,  resulted  in  his  becoming  an  Arian 
—  on  other  points,  however,  his  views  are  said  to  have  been  in  substantial 
accordance  with  the  Orthodox  Theology.  His  society  was  of  a  mixed 
character, —  partly  Unitarian  and  partly  Orthodox ;  but  they  seem  gener- 
ally to  have  approved  of  his  policy,  and  to  have  been  satisfied  with  his  min- 
istrations. 

As  he  persisted  in  exchanging  with  Unitarians,  he  was  finally  disowned 
by  the  Essex  Association,  to  which  he  belonged  ;  and  this  was  quickly  fol- 
lowed by  the  establishment  of  an  Orthodox  church  within  the  bounds  of 
his  parish.  This  latter  circumstance  gave  him  great  uneasiness;  but  so 
much   had  he  the  affection  and  confidence  of  his  people  at  large  that  the 

*  Reuben  IIolcomb  was  born  in  Simsbury,  Conn.,  in  1752;  was  graduated  at  Yale  College 
in  1774;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Sterling,  June  10, 1779;  resigned 
bis  pastoral  charge,  June  15,  1814;  and  died  October  18,  1826,  aged  seventy-four  years.  He 
published  a  Fast  Sermon,  delivered  at  Sterling,  1812. 

f  Isaac  IIuud  was  a  native  of  Charlestown,  Mass.;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
180G;  was  ordained,  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Lynn,  Mass.,  Septenaber  15,  1813; 
was  dismissed  on  the  22d  of  May,  1816;  was  installed  Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Exeter,  N.  H., 
September  11,  1817;  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Dartmouth 
College  in  1854;  and  died  in  1856. 


HOSEA   HILDRETH.  447 

Orthodox  portion  of  his  congregation  generally  remained  with  him  till  he 
resigned  his  pastoral  charge. 

Mr.  Hildreth  was  among  the  early  and  most  efficient  friends  of  the  Tem- 
perance Reform.  His  lectures  on  the  subject  attracted  great  attention  in 
various  places,  and  he  was  at  length  appointed  Agent  of  the  Massachusetts 
Temperance  Society.  In  consequence  of  this,  he  asked  a  dismission  from 
his  charge,  which  was  granted  on  the  31st  of  December,  1833.  After 
serving  this  Society  for  a  few  months,  he  accepted  an  invitation  to  settle 
over  a  small  congregation  in  Westborough,  and  was  installed  there  on  the 
28th  of  October,  1834.  But  his  labours  were  now  approaching  their  close. 
In  the  spring  of  1835  he  retired  to  Sterling,  with  his  health  greatly 
reduced,  and  died  there  on  the  10th  of  the  next  July. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Ilildreth's  publications  : — 

Two  Discourses  to  Townsmen,  1824.  A  Discourse  to  the  Students  of 
Phillips  Exeter  Academy,  1825.  Book  for  New  Hampshire  Children, 
1825.  A  Discourse  on  Ministerial  Fidelity,  1827.  A  Discourse  occa- 
sioned by  the  Death  of  Dr.  William  Coffin,  1827.  The  Difficulties  of  the 
Bible  no  Excuse  for  neglecting  what  it  Teaches  :  A  Sermon  published  in 
the  American  Evangelist,  1828.  The  Kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  not  of 
this  World:  A  Dudleian  Lecture  delivered  before  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, 1829.  Book  for  Massachusetts  Children,  1829.  Duties  and  Rights 
of  a  Congregational  Minister:  A  Sermon  and  Statement,  with  Notes,  1830. 
View  of  the  United  States  for  the  use  of  Schools,  1830. 

Mr.  Hildreth  was  married  on  the  7th  of  September,  180G,  to  Sarah, 
daughter  of  John  McLeod,  who  was  a  native  of  Scotland,  but  migrated  to 
this  country  and  settled  in  Boston,  where  this  daughter  was  born.  She  was 
left  an  orphan  at  an  earl}'  age,  and  was  brought  up  in  the  family  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Holcomb,  of  Sterling.  Mrs.  Hildreth  survived  her  husband 
many  years,  and  died  at  Gloucester,  on  the  21st  of  January,  1859.  They 
had  seven  children  ;  three  sons  and  four  daughters.  The  eldest  son, 
Richard,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1826,  and  has  attained  to 
high  distinction  as  an  author,  particularly  by  his  History  of  the  United 
States,  in  six  vols.,  8vo.  The  second  son,  Sainuel  Tenney,  was  graduated 
at  the  same  College,  and  died  about  one  year  after  his  graduation.  The 
third,  Charles  Hosea,  graduated  in  the  Medical  department  at  Cambridge, 
and  is  settled  as  a  physician  at  Gloucester, 

FROM  THE  HON.  CHARLES  WENTWORTH  UPHAM. 

Salem,  February  27,  1861. 
My  dear  Sir:  I  am  glad  you  propose  to  notice  the  late  Rev.  Hosea  Hildreth. 
His  memory  ought  to  be  held  in  honour.  It  is  true  that  he  continued  to  the 
last  to  appear  to  stand  between  the  two  denominations  into  which  the  Trini- 
tarian controversy  sundered  the  old  Congregational  churches  of  Massachus- 
etts. He  adhered  to  that  position,  not  because  he  was  at  all  unsettled  or 
uncertain  in  his  own  opinions,  but  because  he  considered  the  essence  of  religion 
a  Divine  spirit  of  love,  and  hoped  that  all  estrangements  occasioned  by  the 
perplexing  controversial  discussions  prevalent  at  that  time,  would  ultimately 
give  way  to  a  purer  concord,  in  which  Orthodoxy  would  not  be  lost,  but  Truth 
be  enthroned  in  peace. 


448  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  this  faith  he  endured  to  the  end,  extending  his  hands  in  unfaltering  fel- 
lowship on  both  sides,  and  cherishing  a  fraternal  regard  for  all. 

His  theological  tenets,  there  is,  I  think,  no  reason  to  doubt  were  in  accord- 
ance with  those  generally  entei'tained,  before  controversy  drove  to  sharper 
points  and  nicer  distinctions,  in  the  religious  community  in  which  he  was 
educated.  Nothing,  in  a  long  and  familiar  intimacy,  ever  led  me  to  suspect 
that  they  had  undergone  any  material  modification. 

The  course  to  which  he  adhered  of  maintaining  ministerial  intercourse  with 
clergymen  w  ho  became  known  as  Unitarians,  threw  him  finally  almost  wholly 
among  tliem.  But  this  was  not  owing  to  any  change  in  his  opinions,  but  alto- 
gether to  the  rigid  exclusiveism  then  enforced. 

The  peculiar  position  of  Mr.  Ilildreth  in  the  theological  arrangements  which 
occurred  about  that  time,  the  views  that  actuated  him,  and  the  spirit  he  ex- 
pressed, gave  him  a  place  in  a  class  of  divines  represented  by  distinguished 
names  in  English  and  American  Churches; — the  class  in  which  Bishop  Watson 
may  be  considered  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments.  The  noble  Preface  to  the 
invaluable  Collection  of  Theological  Tracts,  compiled  b}'  that  great  man, 
defines  and  illustrates,  more  perfectly  than  any  document  that  now  occurs  to 
me,  Mr.  Ilildreth 's  sentiments  and  principles  of  action. 

He  was  most  emphatically,  and  to  the  very  core,  an  honest  man.  In  natu- 
ral sagacity  he  had  few  superiors.  A  vein  of  original  humour  and  genuine 
Avit  enriched  and  enlivened  his  more  elaborate  performances,  and  made  his 
social  intercourse  interesting  and  attractive  as  well  as  instructive. 

His  manners  were  simple  and  most  unpretending.  His  views  of  life  w'ere 
just  and  enlightened,  and  that  rarest  of  attainments,  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  human  nature,  rendered  him  a  valuable  friend,  a  useful  member  of  society, 
and  an  effective  preacher. 

The  qualities  of  his  head  and  heart  Avere  appreciated  by  all  who  knew  him. 
His  forbearing  and  conciliatory  spirit  softened  the  asperities  and  assuaged  the 
animosities  of  a  controversial  age.  His  energies  were  expended  in  benignant 
influences,  too  constant  to  be  enumerated,  and  too  pervading  to  be  noticed  by 
the  pen  of  contemporaries.  They  were  traced  in  his  daily  life  and  conversa- 
tion, and  their  record  and  reward  are  on  high. 

It  gives  me  real  pleasure,  to  recall  to  life  a  dear  departed  friend,  and  to 
express  my  affection  for,  by  serving,  a  beloved  living  one. 

Yours  ver}'  truly, 

CHARLES  W.  UPHAM. 

FROM  THE  REV.  LEONARD  WITHINGTON,  D.  D. 

Newbury,  March  14,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir:  The  first  I  heard  of  Mr.  Ilildreth  was  as  a  Teacher  of  Phillips 
Academy,  Exeter,  under  Dr.  Abbot.  I  heard  him  represented  then  as  a  man 
of  the  Liberal  school,  gradually  verging  towards  Orthodoxy;  and  he  was  some- 
what celebrated  for  a  series  of  articles  he  published,  I  think  in  an  Exeter 
paper;  but  I  am  totally  unable  to  recover  the  delinite  recollection  of  the  sub- 
ject and  the  date.  After  became  to  Gloucester,  I  became  rather  intimate 
with  him,  and  our  intimacy  continued  for  several  years.  He  was  an  impres- 
sive preacher — he  had  a  beautiful  clear  style,  which  reminded  you  of  Dr.  Paley. 
At  Gloucester  he  seemed  to  vibrate  back  to  the  most  con.servative  type  of 
Unitarianism.  He  associated  much  wMth  Dr.  Lowell  of  Boston;  but  still  I 
supposed  him  not  to  be  a  decided  Unitarian.  He  wished  Dr.  Perry,  of  Brad- 
ford, (now  Goocliland,)  and  myself  to  unite  with  him  in  a  series  of  meetings. 
We  went  to  see  him,  and  told  him  if  he  would  do  as  Dr.  Parish  had  done, 
under  imputed  defections, —  publish  a  Sermon  on  the  Deity  of  Christ,  such  as 


FRANCIS   PARKMAN.  449 

•we  supposed  he  had,  we  would  come;  but  we  did  not  wish  to  be  misunder- 
stood. The  meeting  was  calm  and  pleasant  until  we  were  about  to  part  — 
then  he  burst  into  a  torrent  of  feeling,  wept  like  a  child,  and  said  that  if  all 
his  friends  forsook  him,  his  Saviour  would  not.  He  spoke  of  dying  a  martyr 
to  his  own  cause,  though  I  did  not  know  detinitel}'^  what  it  was.  I  could  not 
but  suspect  something  morbid  in  the  state  of  his  mind  at  that  time.  But  my 
recollections  of  him  are  exceedingly  pleasant,  as  a  man  of  a  superior  mind  and 
highly  cultivated  taste,  a  correct. and  perspicuous  writer  and  a  perfect  gentle- 
man. ,  Yours  trul}"-, 

LEONARD  WITIIINGTON. 


FRANCIS  PAEKMAN,  D.  D.^ 

1811  —  1852. 

Francis  Parkman  was  born  in  Boston  June  4,  1788.  Ho  was  a 
son  of  Samuel  and  Sarah  (Rogers)  Parkman,  and  a  grandson  of  the  Rev. 
Ebenezer  Parkman,  who  was,  for  many  years,  a  highly  esteemed  Congre- 
gational minister  in  Westborough,  Mass.  His  father  was  an  eminent 
merchant  in  Boston,  and  was  well  known,  during  nearly  his  whole  active 
life,  in  the  walks  of  commercial  and  benevolent  enterprise.  He  (the  son)' 
was  fitted  for  College  in  his  native  town,  chiefly  by  Mr,  William  Wells. t" 
He  entered  the  Sophomore  class  at  Cambridge  in  1804,  and  graduated  a 
highly  respectable  scholar,  in  1807.  Shortly  after  leaving  College,  he  com- 
menced the  study  of  Theology,  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  (after- 
wards Dr.)  W.  E.  Chauning,  and,  about  the  same  time,  contributed  to  one 
of  the  Boston  papers  a  series  of  brief  articles  on  moral  and  religious  sub- 
jects, which  were  considered  as  highly  creditable  to  both  his  talents  and  cul- 
ture. He  continued  his  studies  with  Dr.  Channing,  without  being  licensed, 
to  preach,  till  May,  1810,  making  about  three  years,  when  he  embarked 
for  Europe. 

He  arrived  in  Liverpool  in  June,  and,  after  visiting  London  and  other 
places  of  interest  in  England,  went  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  passed  the 
winter  following.  Here  he  entered  his  name  in  the  Divinity  School,  and 
also  attended  some  of  the  medical  lectures.     Dr.  Ritchie  was,  at  that  time, 

*  MSS.  from  his  son,  Francis  Parkman,  Esq.,  and  Rev.  Ephraim  Peabody,  D.  D. 

■f  WILLIA^t  Wells  was  a  son  of  tlie  Rev.  William  Wells,  (who  forms  the  subject  of  a  distinct 
sketch  in  this  work,)  and  was  born  in  Bromsgrove,  Worcestershire,  England,  April  27,  1773. 
Before  coming  to  this  country,  he  had  gone  through  a  course  of  studies  at  the  Dissenting 
College  in  Hackney,  having  been  fitted  by  the  celebrated  classical  scholar,  Gilbert  Wakefield. 
After  he  came  to  America,  and  before  going  to  College,  he  taught  a  school  in  Wetherstield,  Conn. 
He  entered  Harvard  College  in  the  last  term  of  the  Junior  year,  1795,  and  held  a  high  rank 
as  a  scholar  till  the  close  of  his  collegiate  course.  He  was  Latin  Tutor  in  College  from  1798' 
to  1800  ;  and,  on  retiring  from  the  Tutorship,  made  a  visit  to  his  native  country.  It  had  been 
his  intention  to  devote  himself  to  the  ministry,  but  the  delicacy  of  his  health  led  him  to 
relinquish  the  purpose.  In  1802  he  was  appointed  usher  in  the  Boston  Latin  School,  where 
he  remained  about  two  years.  He  then  engaged  in  business  as  a  bookseller  in  Boston,  and 
continued  in  it  till  about  the  year  1830 ;  and  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  teacher  of  a  private 
school.  On  leaving  his  business,  he  also  left  Boston,  and  removed  to  Cambridge,  where  he 
opened  a  classical  school  for  boys,  which  he  continued  very  successfully  for  many  years,  till 
the  infirmities  of  age  compelled  him  to  relinquish  it.  He  died  at  Cambridge,  on  the  21st  of 
April,  1860,  aged  eighty -seven  years,  lacking  six  days.  He  was  prominently  identified  with- 
the  Unitarian  controversy  as  early  as  1815. 

Vol.  VIII.  29  . 


450  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

Professor  of  Theology.  The  course  pursued  by  students  who  went,  as  Mr 
Parkman  did,  for  only  a  single  session,  was  merely  to  attend  the  lectures 
of  the  Professor  in  the  Hall,  and  to  hear  the  dissertations  of  the  students. 
Mr.  Parkman,  in  the  course  of  the  session,  read  a  discourse,  which  received 
the  approbation  of  the  Professor, 

In  March,  1811,  he  left  Great  Britain  for  the  Continent,  where  he  spent 
several  months,  visiting  most  of  the  principal  cities  and  other  places  of 
special  interest.  He  returned  to  London  late  in  the  autumn  of  tlie  same 
year.  Here  he  commenced  preaching,  though  without  the  formality  of  a 
special  license.  All  that  was  considered  necessary,  at  that  time,  among 
the  Independents  of  England,  was  an  invitation  from  a  regular  minister  to 
preach  in  his  pulpit.  Mr.  Parkman  was  invited  to  preach,  and  did  preach, 
his  first  sermon  in  the  Chapel  in  Hanover  Street,  Long  Acre,  of  which  the 
Hev.  Mr.  Worthington,  a  reputed  Arian,  was  minister.  It  is  believed  that 
he  preached  in  but  one  other  instance  during  his  stay  in  London. 

He  left  London  in  March,  1812,  and,  after  spending  a  short  time  at 
Oxford,  proceeded  to  Liverpool.  Here  he  preached  several  Sabbaths  for 
the  Unitarian  Society  of  which  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lewin  was  Pastor  ;  and  so 
acceptable  were  his  services  that  he  was  invited  to  become  associated  with 
Mr.  L.  in  his  pastoral  charge.  He,  however,  declined  the  call,  having  no 
thought  of  remaining  in  England,  and  shortly  after  embarked  for  his 
native  country. 

After  his  return,  he  preached  in  various  places,  and,  for  a  considerable 
time,  in  the  First  Church,  Boston,  then  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Rev. 
William  Emerson.  A  few  months  after  Dr.  Eliot's  death,  which  occurred 
in  February,  1813,  he  was  employed  by  the  New  North  Church,  of  which 
Dr.  E.  had  been  Pastor,  to  preach  as  a  candidate;  and  the  result  was  that, 
on  the  8th  of  December  following,  he  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor 
of  that  Church.  The  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  his  former 
Theological  Instructor,  the  Rev.  William  E.  Channing.  In  connection 
with  this  Church,  Mr.  Parkman  passed  the  whole  period  of  his  ministry. 

In  1834  he  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  College. 

In  1839  he  delivered  a  Discourse  on  the  completion  of  the  twenty-fifth 
year  of  his  ministry,  in  which  he  reviews  the  entire  history  of  the  Church 
of  which  he  was  Pastor.  The  Discourse  was  published,  and  it  possesses 
an  enduring  historical  interest. 

On  the  7th  of  December,  1842,  Mr.  Amos  Smith,  a  graduate  of  Har- 
vard College,  in  the  class  of  1838,  was  associated  with  Dr.  Parkman  as 
■Colleague  Pastor.  From  this  time,  the  Doctor  was  relieved  from  any  obli- 
gation to  further  labour,  though  he  was  always  ready  to  assist  Mr.  Smith 
in  the  pulpit,  and  to  perform  other  duties  which  naturally  devolved  upon 
him  as  Senior  Pastor.  After  IMr.  Smith's  resignation  of  liis  pastoral  charge, 
which  took  place  in  June,  1848,  Dr.  Parkman  addressed  a  letter  to  the 
^Society,  rerinquishing,  at  the  expiration  of  a  certain  period,  the  charge  of 
supplying  the  pulpit  to  such  Committee  as  they  should  appoint.  This  was 
done  that  the  Society  might  have  every  facility  for  hearing  candidates.  In 
the  same  letter  he  requests  that,  after  the  settlement  of  a  new  Pastor,  his 
own  relations  and  duties  as  Pastor  should  cease.     Mr.  Joshua  Young,  a 


FRANCIS   PARKMAN;  451 

graduate  of  Bowdoin  College,  in  the  class  of  1845,  was  ordained,  and  in- 
stalled as  successor  to  Mr.  Smith,  in  February,  1849,  at  which  time.  Dr. 
Parkman's  connection  with  the  congregation  was  virtually  dissolved; 
though,  on  account  of  other  interests  connected  with  his  office  as  a  Congre. 
gational  Minister,  the  dissolution  did  not  formally  take  place  until  the  1st 
of  March  following.  lie  preached  his  Farewell  Sermon  on  the  28th  of 
January  preceding,  from  Acts  xx,  32 :  '«  And  now,  brethren,  I  commend 
you  to  God,  &c."  The  Resolutions  adopted  by  the  Society,  on  his  leaving 
them,  express  "  an  unfeigned  and  undiminished  affection  and  respect  "  for 
him,  as  having  been,  through  his  long  ministry,  "a  truly  Christian  Pas- 
tor," and  as  "entitled  to  their  lasting  gratitude." 

In  1844-45  Dr.  Parkraan  revisited  Europe,  and  spent  six  months  in 
travelling  in  Great  Britain  and  on  the  Continent.  He  was  suffering,  at 
this  time,  not  a  little,  from  the  effect  of  nervous  derangement,  which  pre- 
vented mucli  of  the  enjoyment  he  might  otherwise  have  received  from  the 
scenes  and  objects  with  which  he  was  brought  in  contact. 

From  the  time  of  his  first  having  a  colleague,  he  was  always  ready,  when 
he  did  not  supply  his  own  pulpit,  to  aid  his  bretliren.  After  he  resigned 
his  charge,  this  fraternal  assistance  was  still  widely  rendered.  If  any  one 
was  sick,  or  in  trouble,  he  was  always  ready  to  help,  often  going  to  places 
at  a  considcralile  distance.  He  preached  nearly  every  Sunday,  and  never, 
it  is  said,  with  more  acceptance  than  in  the  closing  part  of  his  life.  And 
he  rarely  preached  without  writing  a  new  sermon,  or  re-writing  an  old 
one. 

In  the  autumn  of  1852  Dr.  Parkman  went  to  Baltimore,  Md.,  to  attend 
a  Convention  of  Unitarian  ministers, —  the  last  meeting  of  any  Public 
Body  that  he  ever  attended.  He  was  appointed  President  of  the  Conven- 
tion,—  an  office  for  which  his  quick  discernment,  and  prompt  and  grace- 
ful utterance,  and  familiarity  with  the  forms  of  public  business,  eminently 
qualified  him.  He  had  but  just  returned  from  this  journey,  when  his 
friends  and  the  community  at  large  were  astounded  by  the  tidings  of  his 
sudden  death.  He  died  on  the  12th  of  November,  1852,  aged  sixty-six 
years. 

Dr.  Parkman  was  largely  connected  with  Associations,,  of  a  religious, 
benevolent  and  educational  kind,  and  held  offices  of  high  responsibility  in 
quite  a  number  of  them.  In  1829  he  founded  the  Professorship  of  Pulpit 
Eloquence  and  the  Pastoral  Care  in  the  Theological  department  of  Har- 
vard College  ;  of  which  his  friend,  the  Rev.  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  was  the 
first  incumbent.  When  the  Society  for  the  Relief  of  Aged  and  Indigent 
Unitarian  Clergymen  was  formed  in  1849,  he  took  an  active  part  in  its 
concerns,  bestowed  upon  it  his  bounty,  and  accepted  the  office  of  its  First 
Vice  President,  which  he  held  till  his  death.  A  considerable  part  of  Lis 
library  he  bequeathed  to  Harvard  College. 

Ha  was  married,  in  1817,  to  Sarah,  daughter  of  Samuel  Cabot,  of  Bos- 
ton, who  died  the  next  year,  leaving  a  daughter.  In  1822  he  was  married 
to  Caroline  Hall,  of  Medford,  who  became  the  mother  of  several  children, 
and  survived  him.      He  had  six  children  living  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Parkman's  publications  : — 

A  Survey  of  God's  Providence  in  the  Establishment  of  the  Churches  of 


452  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

New  England  :  A  Sermon  delivered  in  Boston,  on  the  Completion  of  a 
Century  since  the  Settlement  of  the  New  North  Church,  1814.  A  Ser- 
mon delivered  at  the  Interment  of  the  Ilev.  John  Lathrop,  D.  D.,  Pastor 
of  the  Second  Church  iu  Bostoa,  1816.  The  Providence  of  God  displayed 
in  the  Revolutions  of  the  World  :  A  Sermon  preached  in  tlie  New  North 
Church,  Boston,  on  occasion  of  the  Recent  Revolutions  in  the  Government 
of  France,  1830,  The  Spirit  of  the  Christian  Ministry  :  A  Sermon  deliv- 
ered at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  John  Parkman  to  the  Pastoral  Care  of 
the  Third  Congregational  Church  in  Greenfield,  Mass.,  1837.  Enquiring 
of  the  Fathers,  or  Seeking  Wisdom  from  the  Past:  A  Discourse  preached  iu 
the  New  North  Church,  on  the  Completion  of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
fourth  year  from  the  Establishment  of  the  Church,  and  of  the  twenty-fifth 
year  since  the  Settlement  of  the  present  Pastor,  1839.  A  Discourse  deliv- 
ered in  the  Church  in  Brattle  Square,  on  occasion  of  the  Death  of  the  Rev. 
John  T.  Kirkland,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  Late  President  of  Harvard  University, 
1840.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Amos  Smith,  as 
Colleague  Pastor  of  the  New  North  Cliurch  in  Boston,  1842.  Extracts 
from  a  Discourse  on  the  late  Rev.  Professor  Ware,  1843.  A  Sermon  deliv- 
ered in  the  New  North  Church,  Boston,  on  the  Author's  Resigning  his 
Pastoral  Charge,  1849.  An  Offering  of  Sympathy  to  Parents  bereaved  of 
their  children,  and  to  others  under  affliction  ;  being  a  Collection  from 
Manuscripts  and  Letters  not  before  published  ;  with  an  Appendix  of  Selec- 
tions. This  was  first  published  in  1830,  and  reached  a  fourth  edition  iu 
1854: 

I  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Parkman  at  an  early  period  of  my  minis- 
try,— I  think  as  early  as  1822, — and  was  always  in  very  pleasant,  friendly 
relations  with  him  till  the  close  of  his  life.  I  remember  to  have  been,  in 
one  or  two  instances,  his  guest  under  very  interesting  circumstances  ;  and 
he  visited  me  several  times  in  his  later  years  ;  and  I  believe  the  very  last 
time  he  came  to  Albany,  he  spent  nearly  an  entire  day  with  me.  I  knew, 
of  course,  that  he  was  an  earnest  Unitarian  ;  but  he  rarely  alluded,  in  any 
way,  to  his  denominational  peculiarities. 

His  varied  information,  and  kindly  spirit,  and  simple  yet  polished 
manners,  made  him  exceedingly  agreeable. in  social  life.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber to  have  ever  heard  him  preach,  but  have  heard  him  speak  several 
times  at  the  meeting  of  the  Massachusetts  Bible  Society,  and  at  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Convention  of  Congregational  Ministers,  and  have  also  heard 
him  pray  on  two  or  three  public  occasions,  and  in  every  instance  he  evinced 
great  self-possession,  fluency,  appropriateness  and  dignity.  My  last  visit 
to  him  was  made  but  two  or  three  days  before  his  death.  I  passed  an 
evening  in  his  family,  and  found  him  as  kind  and  genial  as  usual,  though 
he  was  evidently  somewhat  depressed  in  both  health  and  spirits,  I  took 
my  leave  of  him  without  any  apprehension  that  I  was  to  meet  him  no 
more  ;  but  before  I  had  reaclied  home,  the  newspaper  brought  me  the  sad 
intelligence  that  his  earthly  career  was  closed. 


FRANCIS   PARKMAN.  453 

FROM  THE  REV.  ISAAC  HURD,  D.  D. 

Exeter,  December  9.  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Parknian  in  College.  He  was  a 
diligent  and  successful  student,  and  moral  and  exemplary  in  his  whole  deport- 
ment. He  discovered  a  strong  desire  for  knowledge,  and  an  aptitude  to  avail 
himself  of  all  the  means  which  presented  fcr  general  improvement.  He  was 
rather  peculiar  in  associating  with  persons  older  and  more  advanced  than  him- 
self, from  whose  acquaintance  he  might  hope  to  derive  advantage.  He 
appeared  in  this  respect  to  belong  to  a  circle  of  society  above  his  years. 

Dr.  Parkman,  so  far  as  I  know,  was  never  otherwise  than  a  Unitarian.  In 
Edinburgh  he  associated  with  Orthodox  clergymen,  (indeed,  I  believe,  there 
were  no  Unitarians  there,)  and  seemed  to  appreciate  tlie  evangelical  character 
of  their  sermons,  and  take  pleasure  in  social  and  Christian  intei'course  with 
them.  He  entered  into  no  religious  controveis}',  and,  as  the  students  of  the 
Theological  School  were  professedly  Orthodox,  it  might  have  been  inferred 
that  Mr.  Parkman  was  Orthodox  also.  Had  the  question  been  proposed  to 
him,  he  would,  I  doubt  not,  have  freely  avowed  his  opinions.  The  Faculty 
were  not  in  the  habit,  as  far  as  I  could  learn,  of  making  any  inquiries  con- 
cerning the  religious  sentiments  of  those  who  were  desirous  of  attending  lec- 
tures at  Divinity  Hall.  They  simply  made  remarks  upon  the  religious  per- 
formances of  the  students. 

In  his  theological  views  Dr.  Parkman  was,  at  least  in  the  earl}'  part  of  his 
ministry,  an  Arian,  as  opposed  to  those  who  deny  the  pre-existence  of  Christ. 
He  expressed  exalted  ideas  of  the  Saviour's  character,  and  openl}'  opposed  the 
Socinian  scheme.  While  he  was  in  London,  there  appeared,  in  a  Religious 
Magazine,  under  the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Belsham,  an  article  upon 
Harvard  College,  representing  that  institution  as  having  gone  over  to  Socini- 
anism,  and  its  President,  with  many  of  the  Boston  ministers,  as  having  become 
Humanitarians.  Dr.  Parknian  objected  to  the  article  as  giving  an  unjust  rep- 
resentation of  the  Cambridge  Theology.  Mr.  Belsham  expres.sed  a  desire  to 
be  correctly  informed,  and  said  if  Mr.  Parkman  would  write  a  letter,  present- 
ing what  he  considered  a  just  view  of  the  subject,  it  should  be  published  in  the 
Magazine.  Mr.  Parkman  did  so,  and  the  letter  was  accordingly  published.  In 
the  later  years  of  his  life,  though  I  am  not  aware  that  he  changed  his  religious 
views,  he  gave  greater  prominence  to  the  distinctive  features  of  the  Unitarian 
system.  He  was  more  desirous  to  extend  what  he  considered  Liberal  views  of 
Christianity,  and  manifested,  I  think,  a  stronger  aversion  to  the  peculiarities 
of  the  Orthodox  faith. 

Dr.  Parkman  was  a  devotional  man,  readj-  and  appropriate  in  prayer.  His 
religious  influence,  as  a  fellow  traveller,  I  ever  found  to  be  salutary,  and  I 
remember  it  with  much  satisfaction.  Nor  can  I  forget  the  uniform  benevolence 
and  kind  feeling  with  which  he  regarded  all  around  him.  It  seemed  to  give  him 
pain  to  pass  a  beggar  in  the  street,  without  opening  his  hand  in  charity. 
His  benevolent  and  social  disposition  rendered  his  society  at  all  times  agreea- 
ble, and  imparted  a  cheerfulness  and  vivacity  to  the  tone  of  his  conversation. 
Though  we  differed  widely  in  our  religious  views,  and,  being  separated  by 
different  fields  of  labour,  maintained  less  frequent  intercourse,  yet  he  never 
failed,  from  my  first  acquaintance  with  him  to  the  close  of  his  life,  to  exiiibit 
the  same  friendly  feeling,  and  to  inspire  an  unshaken  confidence  in  his  affec- 
tion and  regard.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  with  great  regard, 

Very  truly  yours, 

ISAAC  HURD. 


454  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  FREDERICK  DAN  HUNTINGTON,  D.  D. 

RoxBURY,  Highlands.  Januaiy  20,  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  In  asking  nie  to  revive  and  .set  in  order  my  recollections  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Francis  Parknian,  you  invite  me  to  a  willing  service.  At  his  unex- 
pected departure,  which  took  place  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago,  his  brethren 
in  the  ministry,  and  a  multitude  besides,  were  moved  to  a  sincere  mourning. 
His  cordial  manners,  his  cheerful  temper,  his  active  habits  and  animated 
speech,  are  all  greatly  missed  among  us;  but  they  form  a  grateful  memory. 
His  pleasant  familiarity  never  transgressed  the  bounds  of  perfect  courtesy; 
and,  even  in  the  less  restrained  hours  of  intimate  fellowship,  something  was 
always  present  in  his  deportment  to  betoken  his  excellent  professional  breed- 
ing. It  was  his  custom,  indeed,  to  insist,  with  considerable  scrupulousness, 
on  those  clerical  proprieties  and  formalities,  that  formerly,  more  than  now, 
distinguished  the  ministerial  vocation;  and  those  whose  taste  in  these  respects 
was  less  exacting  than  his  own,  will  long  remember  tlie  good-natured  rebukes 
with  which  he  pursued  their  departures  from  the  ancient  rule.  At  this  date, 
I  may  justly  speak  of  him  as  a  representative  of  the  older  school  of  gentle- 
men, and  of  the  distinctive  pulpit  character  of  the  last  generation. 

In  his  relations  to  his  brethren  Dr.  Parkman  was  singularly  urbane  and 
conciliatory.  Many  preachers  of  his  own  denomination  would  be  ready  to 
bear  testimony,  out  of  a  sincere  grief,  how  his  friendly  countenance  encour- 
aged their  beginnings, —  how  the  cordial  grasp  of  his  hand  promised  sympathy 
and  fraternity;  how  generously  and  thoughtfully  he  appreciated  whatever  was 
capable  of  being  honestly  commended  in  their  performances.  With  an  eye 
naturally  quick  to  detect  faults,  as  his  friends  could  not  but  know,  trained  too, 
by  extensive  observation  and  travel,  with  a  constitutional  relish  of  ludicrous 
incongruities,  and  with  an  honourable  frankness  in  disapproving  what  he 
thought  to  be  wrong, —  he  yet  rarely  gave  offence  by  harsh  judgments  or  in- 
considerate criticisms.  An  added  efiect  was  often  given  to  the  native  humour 
of  his  conversation  by  certain  genial  peculiarities  in  liis  physiognomy  and  per- 
son. But  he  thoroughly  understood  the  decorum  of  all  occasions,  and  a  kind 
of  refined  dignity  was  not  absent  even  from  his  more  careless  moods.  He 
possessed  as  consummate  a  skill  in  making  language  reflect  the  play  of  his  own 
thought  and  feeling,  in  ordinary  social  intercourse,  as  is  often  found  in  any 
man.  There  was  no  rancour  in  his  sarcasm,  and  no  malice  in  his  playfulness. 
He  knew  how  to  choose  fit  and  delicate  terms.  He  loved  Scriptural  quota- 
tions in  all  conjunctures,  and  was  sometimes  tempted  to  use  them  rather  by 
the  appositeness,  than  by  the  solemnity,  of  the  circumstances.  He  kept  the 
attention  of  the  company  always  awake  by  piquant  terms  of  expression  and 
quaint  phrases.  Nor  was  his  wit  or  eloquence  wanting  when  the  tone  of  the 
talk  was  raised.  He  had  an  admirable  faculty  of  describing  the  peculiai-ities 
of  public  men,  and  the  former  events  with  which  he  had  been  conversant.  Of 
personal  anecdotes  he  held -at  command  a  large  fund.  These  remarkable  con- 
versational gifts,  together  with  his  gentle  social  connections,  contributed  to 
the  eminence  of  his  position,  both  in  England  where  he  was  much  respected, 
and  among  literary  associations  at  home. 

As  a  Preacher,  Dr.  Parkman  was  uniformly  serious  and  practical.  In  his 
long  ministry  at  the  <<  New  North,"  his  fidelity  and  devotion  were  untiring, 
as  both  the  living  and  the  dead  would  affirm.  There  was  great  method  in  his 
habits.  He  was  a  genuine  respecter  of  humble  virtue.  He  honoured  the  poor 
saints.  He  blessed  the  widow  and  the  Itxtherless.  He  was  prompt  in  all  the 
offices  of  consolation  and  charity.  Family  wealth  never  weakened  his  work, 
nor  enticed  him  to  forget  the  claims  of  the  least  conspicuous  in  his  flock, —  and 
that  is  no  light  honour  to  his  Christian  conscience;  but  it  did  make  him  the 


FRANCIS   PARKMAN.  455 

constant  and  munificent  guardian  of  penury  and  distress.  He  was  exceedingly 
careful  to  search  out  the  needy,  not  only  in  his  own  congregation,  but  in  the 
whole  circle  of  his  acquaintance,  and  especially  among  those  of  his  own  pro- 
fession, and  their  families,  and  to  bestow  upon  them  kindly  attentions. 
Every  aspect  of  suffering  touched  him  tenderly.  There  was  no  hard  spot  in 
his  breast.  His  house  was  the  centre  of  countless  mercies  to  the  various 
forms  of  want;  and  there  were  few  solicitors  of  alms,  local  or  itinerant,  and 
whether  for  private  necessity  or  public  benefactions,  that  his  doors  did  not 
welcome  and  send  away  satisfied. 

Tiiough  subject  to  occasional  attacks  of  nervous  illness.  Dr.  Parkman  accom- 
plished large  labours.  In  the  Trinitarian  controversy  he  did  his  share  on  the 
Unitarian  side.  For  nearly  half  a  century  he  contributed  more  or  less  to  the 
principal  religious  and  theological  publications  of  his  denomination.  The 
processes  of  his  mind  were  practical  however,  rather  than  speculative.  His 
style  was  not  wanting  in  force,  but  distinguished  rather  for  clearness  and  ease. 
Many  of  his  papers  were  biographical,  narrative,  or  commemorative.  He 
looked  at  the  vexed  questions  of  Theolog}^  and  at  ideas  of  principles,  very 
much  in  their  relation  to  persons.  He  spoke  extemporaneously  with  great 
readiness  and  often.  He  took  much  satisfaction  in  ever}'  evidence  afforded 
him  of  the  comforting  influence  exerted  by  a  devout  work  he  compiled  for  the 
afflicted,  called  "  The  Offering  of  Sympathy."  For  many  years,  he  has  been 
widely  known  and  esteemed  for  his  efficient  interest  in  some  of  our  most  con- 
spicuous and  useful  institutions  of  philanthropy.  Among  these  I  may  especi- 
ally mention  the  '<  Massachusetts  Bible  Society,"  the  "  Society  for  Propaga- 
ting the  Gospel,"  the  "Orphan  Asylum,"  the  "Humane  Society,"  the 
"Medical  Dispensary,"  the  "  Society  for  the  Relief  of  Aged  and  Destitute 
Clergymen,"  and  the  "  Congregational  Charitable  Society."  The  two  former 
of  these  are  indebted  to  him  for  many  carefully  drawn  Reports,  and  nearly 
all  of  them  for  a  protracted  term  of  onerous  official  services.  Whatever  cause 
he  believed  to  promote  the  elevation  or  welfare  of  the  community,  was  sure 
to  find  in  him  a  liberal  advocate  and  patron.  Harvard  University,  of  which 
he  was  an  Overseer  and  frequent  visitor,  was  very  dear  to  his  heart,  and  its 
concerns  touched  his  personal  pride.  Throughout  he  was  a  zealous  and  con- 
sistent friend  of  the  Unitarian  movement,  but  was  too  catholic  in  his  feelings 
to  favour  an  exclusive  policy  towards  any  Christian  sect. 

I  cannot  entirely  pass  over  his  pre-eminent  and  singular  endowments  as  a 
conductor  of  worship.  It  is  not  a  matter  to  be  enlarged  upon;  but  those  who 
ever  joined  in  Dr.  Parkman's  public  praj'ers,  would  feel  any  notice  of  him  to 
be  incomplete  that  did  not  advert  to  the  beautiful  and  affecting  union  of  fer- 
vour and  simplicity,  biblical  phraseology  and.  varied  allusion,  with  ever 
appropriate  reference  to  circumstances  and  persons,  which  marked  his  peti- 
tions and  thanksgivings.  I  remember  that  the  Rev.  Dr.  Henry  Ware,  Jr., 
Professor  at  Cambridge,  on  the  Parkman  foundation,  procured  from  him  a 
letter  giving  his  conceptions  of  that  exercise,  and  his  own  mode  of  preparation, 
and  that  this  letter  was  read  by  Dr.  Ware  to  the  successive  classes  of  students 
in  the  Theological  School.  *  ^ 

I  am,  with  cordial  and  constant  esteem, 

Your  friend  and  servant, 
I  F.  D.  HUNTINGTON. 

FROM  EDWIN  P.  WHIPPLE,  ESQ. 

Boston,  December  16,  18-54. 
My  dear  Sir:  I  have  the  honour  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter, 
in  which  you  request  me  to  write  out  my  impressions  of  the  character  of  the. 
late  Rev.  Dr.  Parkman.    I  regret  that  my  opportunities  of  seeing  and  convers- 


456  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ing  with  liim  were  only  casual,  and  I  therefore  shall  not  presume  to  attempt  a 
complete  i)ortrait.  But,  as  he  possessed,  in  a  pre-eminent  degree,  one  quality 
which  your  other  correspondents  may  not  have  emphasized,  and  as  this 
quality  does  not  appear  in  his  writings,  hut  was  confined  to  his  conversation, 
I  will,  with  your  permission,  make  it  the  special  suhject  of  my  remarks. 
This  qualit}'  was  humour;  and  humour,  not  merely  as  a  power  of  his  nnnd, 
but  as  an  element  of  his  character,  and  an  instinct  of  his  nature.  In  iiim  it 
seemed  made  up  of  feeling  and  insight  in  equal  proportions.  In  its  most  intel- 
lectual manifestations,  it  evinced  that  its  source  was  in  a  kindly,  tolerant  and 
beneficent  disposition, — that  it  loved  while  it  laughed  Whether  he  conversed 
on  theology  or  politics,  or  manners,  or  individual  character,  or  recorded  some 
sad  or  pleasant  experience  of  his  own,  the  wise  and  genial  humourist  was 
alwaj'S  observable,  softening,  enlivening,  enriching  every  thing  he  touched. 
His  practical  discernment  was  so  sure  and  keen,  his  knowledge  of  the  world 
was  so  extensive,  and  his  perception  of  character  and  motives  was  so  quick 
and  deep,  that  it  was  impossible  to  impose  on  him  by  any  pretence  or  decep- 
tion. With  all  his  subtilty,  however,  in  detecting  the  weaknesses  of  men,  there 
was  nothing  of  the  satirist  in  his  disposition;  and  those  who  were  the  objects 
of  his  shrewd  but  kindly  humour,  seemed  to  enjoy  it  as  much  as  otheis.  He 
so  softly  let  a  man  down  from  the  stilts  of  his  rlietoric,  or  pierced  the  bubbles 
of  his  declamation  with  such  smiling  tact,  that  the  person  felt  the  mists  of  his 
self-delusion  scattered  as  by  sunlight. 

It  was  impossible  to  meet  Dr.  Parkman  in  the  street,  and  stop  a  minute  to 
exchange  words  with  him,  without  carrying  away  with  you  some  phrase,  or 
turn  of  thought,  so  exquisite  in  its  mingled  sagacity  and  humour  that  it 
touched  the  inmost  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  and  made  the  heart  smile  as  .well  as 
the  lips.  Indeed,  in  this  respect,  he  continually  reminded  me  of  some  of  the 
greatest  and  most  genial  humourists  in  literature; — of  Addison  and  Gold- 
smith, of  Lamb  and  Irving.  In  the  commonest  conversation,  his  mastery  of 
the  felicities  of  humourous  expression  was  quite  a  marvel.  Without  the 
slightest  hesitation,  sentence  after  sentence  would  glide  from  his  tongue,  indi- 
cating the  most  consummate  command  of  the  resources  of  language,  and  every 
word  moistened  with  the  richest  humour,  and  edged  with  the  most  refined 
wit.  His  voice,  in  its  sweet,  mild  unctuous  smoothness,  aided  the  effect  of 
his  expression.  His  style  in  conversation,  unlike  his  style  in  his  wi'itings, 
evinced  a  creative  mind.  It  was  individual,  original,  teeming  with  felicities  of 
verbal  combination,  and  flexible  to  the  most  delicate  variations  of  his  thought. 
Though  it  owed  no  small  portion  of  its  charm  to  his  inimitable  manner,  it  still, 
if  literally  reported,  would  have  possessed  sufficient  vitality  and  richness  to 
indicate,  better  than  any  printed  memorials  of  his  powers,  his  real  wealth  of 
thought,  observation,  experience  and  knowledge. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  my  dear  Sir, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

E.  P.  WHIPPLE. 


ANTHONY    FORSTER.  457 


ANTHONY  FORSTER  * 

1813  —  1820. 

Anthony  Forster  was  born  in  the  County  of  Brunswick,  N.  C,  Jan- 
uary 11,  1785.  His  fatlier,  who  was  a  respectable  farmer,  died  when  this 
son  was  yet  a  child,  consigning  him  to  the  guardianship  of  one  of  his 
friends.  He  early  evinced  great  inquisitiveness  of  mind,  and  a  desire  to 
make  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  every  subject  to  which  his  atten- 
tion "was  directed.  At  the  age  of  twelve  years  he  was  sent  by  his  guard- 
ian to  the  Preparatory  School  of  the  University  of  North  Carolina  ;  and, 
after  remaining  there  for  some  time,  became  a  member  of  the  University. 
In  the  two  departments  of  this  Institution  he  spent  five  years  —  he  did 
not,  however,  graduate  regularly,  thougli  it  appears,  from  the  Catalogue, 
that  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts  was  conferred  upon  him  in  1815. 
During  his  collegiate  course  he  had  a  high  reputation  as  a  scholar,  and  was 
greatly  esteemed  for  his  generous  and  manly  qualities. 

On  leaving  College,  he  was  induced,  by  the  advice  of  his  friends,  to 
commence  the  study  of  the  Law  ;  but  it  proved  incongenial  with  his  tastes, 
and  he  pursued  it  but  a  sliort  time.  His  health,  too,  which  was  never 
robust,  began  to  suffer  from  a  sedentary  habit,  and  it  was  thought  advi- 
sable -tliat  he  sliould  try  the  effect  of  a  more  active  course  of  life.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  accepted  an  Ensign's  commission  in  the  army  of  the  United 
Slates,  bearing  date,  March,  1804.  He  immediately  joined  a  Body  of 
troops,  stationed,  at  that  time,  on  the  Western  frontier  of  Georgia,  and, 
while  there,  was  promoted  to  a  Lieutenancy.  He  held  this  position,  with 
high  reputation,  until  October,  1806,  when  he  retired  from  the  service, 
partly  at  least  on  account  of  dissatisfaction  with  some  measures  of  his 
commanding  officer.  After  being  employed,  for  some  time,  in  tlie  United 
States'  Factory,  established  at  the  post  where  he  had  been  stationed,  he 
resumed  his  legal  studies,  under  the  direction  of  a  practitioner  at  the  Bar, 
in  Milledgeville,  Ga.  Having  passed  nearly  two  years  in  these  different 
occupations,  he  was  attacked  with  symptoms  of  illness,  and,  in  consequence 
of  a  too  profuse  bleeding,  was  thrown  into  a  violent  nervous  fever,  which 
placed  his  life  in  the  most  serious  jeopardy.  A  family  then  residing  in 
Milledgeville,  though  until  then  strangers  to  him,  took  him  to  their  own 
home,  and  bestowed  upon  him  every  attention  which  could  have  been  ex- 
pected from  near  relatives.  He  lay  utterly  unconscious  for  three  weeks  ; 
and,  at  one  time,  it  was  supposed,  for  lialf  an  hour,  that  life  was  extinct; 
but,  while  the  preparations  for  putting  on  his  grave-clothes  were  making, 
it  became  evident  that  death  had  not  yet  done  its  work.  He  was,  during 
this  time,  fully  aware  of  all  that  was  passing,  but  was  incapable  of 
uttering  a  word  or  moving  a  limb,  and  had  every  reason  to  expect  that 
he  should  be  buried  alive. 

Though  Mr.  Forster  never  entirely  recovered  from  the  effects  of  this 
illness,  he  soon  regained  sufficient  strength  to  be  able  to  set  out  on  a  visit  to 
his    friends   in    North   Carolina,  intending  to  proceed  thence  to  Ballston 

*  Ware's  American  Unitarian  Biography. — Communication  from  Rev.  Dr.  Oilman,  &c. 


458  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Springs.  On  his  way  Nortliward,  he  stopped  to  visit  a  friend  in  Kinf  and 
Queen  County,  Va.,  where  he  was  confined,  for  some  time,  by  an  attack  of 
rheumatism,  in  consequence  of  wljich,  instead  of  pursuing  his  journey,  he 
returned  to  North  Carolina.  About  this  time,  his  friend  and  former  guard- 
ian, General  Benjamin  Smith,  having  been  elected  Governor  of  the  State, 
gave  him  the  offer  of  becoming  his  Private  Secretary.  He  accepted  the 
office,  and  soon  after  removed  to  llaleigh,  and  entered  on  its  duties.  This 
was  in  December,  1810.  But  it  was  for  only  a  short  period  that  he  was 
thus  engaged.  His  mind  now  took  a  more  decidedly  religious  turn  than 
ever  before,  and,  after  due  deliberation,  he  resolved  to  devote  hinisclf  to 
the  ministry  of  the  Gospel.  With  a  view  to  this,  he  resigned  his  place  as 
Secretary,  and  accepted  the  office  of  Assistant  Teacher  in  the  llaleigh 
Academy,  devoting  whatever  leisure  he  could  command  to  the  study  of 
Theology,  under  the  llev.  Dr.  McPheeters,  Pastor  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  in  llaleigh,  and  Principal  of  the  Academy. 

He  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Oiange  Presbytery,  in  llaleigh,  early 
in  1813;  and  officiated  for  several  months  —  rendering  his  services  gratuit- 
ously—  as  a  Missionary  in  different  parts  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia. 
About  the  close  of  this  year,  he  was  invited  by  the  Independent  Church 
at  Wappetaw,  S.  C,  to  become  their  Pastor;  and,  at  nearly  the  same 
time,  was  married  to  Altona  H.,  daughter  of  Joseph  Gales,  of  llaleigh, 
N.  C.  He  accepted  the  call,  and,  shortly  after,  (January,  1814,)  removed, 
with  his  wife,  to  enter  on  t.iie  duties  of  his  sacred  charge.  On  arriving  at 
the  contemplated  scene  of  his  future  labours,  he  was  so  much  disappointed 
in  the  state  of  things  that  presented  itself,  that  he  felt  constrained  to  an- 
nounce to  the  people  that  he  must  revoke  his  acceptance  of  their  call  ; 
though  he  consented  to  remain  with  them  during  the  winter.  He  did 
remain  till  June;  and  then,  though  they  formally  renewed  their  invitation 
to  him  to  settle  permanently  among  them,  he  felt  obliged  to  decline  it. 

During  the  summer  of  1814  he  supplied  the  First  Presbyterian  Cliurch 
in  Charleston,  its  Pastor  being  absent  on  a  tour  to  the  Northern  States. 
Here  his  services  were  highly  acceptable,  and  he  forn)ed  many  valuable 
friendships  which  continued  till  the  close  of  his  life.  When  his  engage- 
ment with  this  church  had  expired,  he  was  invited  to  preach  at  the  Inde- 
pendent Church  on  John's  Island.  Here  he  remained  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  winter;  and,  early  in  the  spring  of  1815,  he  was  elected  as 
temporary  Pastor  of  the  Independent  Church  in  Charleston,*  in  place  of 
tlie  llev.  Dr.  Hollingshead,  Senior  Pastor  of  that  church,  whose  age  and 
infirmities  had  obliged  him  to  discontinue  his  public  labours.  Here  Mr. 
Forster  began  his  work  with  great  acceptance;  and,  though  employed 
merely  as  a  temporary  supply,  he  was  invested  with  all  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  a  stated  Pastor. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  he  suffered  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  so  pro- 
fuse as  to  threaten  immediate  death.  He,  however,  gradually  recovered 
from  it.  in  a  great  degree,  and,  in  the  spring  of  1816,  resumed  his  minis- 
terial labours;  though,  in  the  judgment  of  many  of  his  friends,  he  did  it 
prematurely.     At  the  close  of  this  year,  the  death  of  Dr.  Hollingshead 

*  This  Church,  though  incorporated  as  one  Body,  consisted  of  two  branches,  meeting  in  two 
distinct  places  of  worship,  and  served  by  two  Associate  or  Colleague  Pastors,  who  ofiBciatcd  in 
the  respective  churches,  alternately,  morning  and  evening. 


ANTHONY  FORSTER.  459 

gave  occasion  to  a  series  of  measures  which  led  to  the  separation  of  the 
Associated  Cliurches,  and  to  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Forster  over  that  branch 
which  took  the  name  of  the  Secortd  Independent  Church. 

Mr.  Forster  had  been  educated  in  tlie  Calvinistic  faith,  and  had  held  it 
without  any  misgiving  until  he  had  been  in  the  ministry  for  some  time. 
He  had  an  intimate  friend  who  was  a  Unitarian;  and,  in  examining  the 
Scriptures  with  a  view  to  frame  an  argument  by  which  to  convince  his 
friend  that  he  was  in  error,  he  began  to  find  his  own  faith  in  the  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity  weakened,  and  the  result  of  his  inquiries  was  that  he  adopted 
the  very  system  which  he  had  set  himself  to  expose.  The  views  in  which 
he  finally  reposed  are  thus  stated  by  his  biographer  : — 

"  A  full  i)ersuasioii  of  the  strict  and  unqnalili.'d  unity  of  God;  of  the  essential  benig- 
nity of  hiscliaiacter;  of  his  paternal  and  impartial  benevolence  toward  all  his  ottspring; 
of  the  ethcacy  of  sincere  repentance  to  restore  the  sinner  to  his  favour;  of  the  absolute 
freeness  of  his  uni)urchased  compassion  towards  erring  man,  and  of  the  certainty  of  a 
future,  just  and  inii)artial  retribution; — these  were  the  important  coiiciusions  to  which 
Mr.  Forster's  inquiries  conducted  liini.  These  he  believed  to  comprise  the  substance 
of  that  Revelation  which  God  had  made  to  man  by  his  beloved  Son.  To  that  Son  he 
looked  up  with  love,  and  gratitude,  and  veneration,  but  his  worship  he  reserved  for  his 
Father  and  our  Father,  for  his  God  and  our  God." 

The  change  in  Mr.  Forster's  views  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel  was 
accompanied  by  a  corresponding  change  in  his  views  of  Church  Government. 
Accordingly,  he  resolved  to  withdraw  from  the  Harmony  Presbytery,  of 
which  he  was  a  member  ;  and,  on  the  29th  of  April,  1816,  addressed  a  let- 
ter to  the  Moderator  of  that  Body,  announcing  his  determination,  and  giv- 
ing tlie  reasons  for  it. 

After  Mr.  Forster  became  doubtful  in  respect  to  the  truth  of  the  system 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  preach,  his  discourses  took  on  a  more  general 
character,  and  became  proportionally  less  satisfactory  to  a  considerable 
number  of  his  congregation.  It  was  during  this  state  of  things  that  the 
death  of  Dr.  Ilollingsliead  occurred  ;  and  when  the  question  of  filling  his 
place  came  to  be  agitated,  it  turned  out  that,  while  a  part  of  the  congrega- 
tion were  strongly  in  favour  of  Mr.  Forster,  another  part  felt  that  they 
could,  by  no  means,  be  satisfied  under  his  ministrations.  The  result  was 
that  a  separation  between  the  two  congregations  was  effected,  and  the 
friends  of  Mr.  Forster,  to  whom  the  Archdale  Street  Church  was  assigned, 
proceeded  at  once  to  orgajiize  themselves  as  a  Religious  Society,  under  the 
name  of  the  Second  Indejjefident  Church  of  Charleston.  The  fundamental 
principle  of  their  organization  was  that  the  Scriptures  are  the  only  rule  of 
faith  and  practice,  and  that,  in  the  interpretation  of  Scripture,  every  man 
must  be  governed  by  the  dictates  of  his  own  reason  and  conscience.  Mr. 
Forster,  in  his  IntroductQry  Sermon,  is  said  to  have  dwelt  on  this  charac- 
teristic feature  of  the  new  Cliurch  with  much  force  and  eloquence. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  Yellow  Fever,  which,  during  this  year,  (1817,)  so 
fatally  ravaged  the  city  of  Charleston,  made  its  appearance.  Mr.  Forster, 
by  the  urgent  request  of  his  people,  embarked  for  Philadelphia,  with  a 
view  to  escape  the  danger  ;  but  his  passage  thither  was  every  way  a  most 
uncomfortable  one,  and  when  he  arrived  at  the  quarantine  he  was  so  feeble 
as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  walk.  Here  he  found  himself  in  a  miserable  inn, 
with  hardly  the  common  comforts  of  life  about  him  ;  but  some  benevolent 
individuals  in  Philadelphia,  to  whom  he  was  an  entire  stranger,  hearing  of 


460  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

his  situation,  applied  to  the  proper  authorities,  and  obtained  permission  for 
his  removal  into  the  city.  He  gradually  recovered  the  usual  tone  of  his 
health;  but,  by  the  time  he  was  able  to  travel,  the  season  was  so  far 
advanced  that  he  thouglit  it  not  proper  to  prolong  his  tour,  and  therefore 
returned  to  Charleston  by  land,  reaching  there  early  in  December.  He 
supplied  his  pulpit  uninterruptedly  during  the  greater  part  of  the  winter  -, 
but,  when  spring  returned,  his  health  failed  again,  and  in  May  (1818)  he 
set  out  on  another  tour  to  the  North.  He  travelled  the  greater  part  of  the 
summer,  and  with  much  apparent  benefit ;  and  when  he  returned,  near  the 
close  of  the  year,  he  resumed  his  labours  with  n)uch  alacrity.  It,  however, 
very  soon  became  apparent  that  the  seeds  of  fatal  disease  were  sown  in  his 
constitution,  and  that  the  end  of  his  public  labours  was  at  hand.  He 
preached  for  the  last  time,  and  administered  the  Lord's  Supper,  on  the  7th 
of  March,  1819.  Tlie  occasion  was  rendered  deeply  interesting,  not  only 
by  tlie  uncon)mon  pathos  and  eloquence  tliat  marked  the  discourse,  but  by 
the  appearance  of  the  preacher,  betokening  almost  beyond  a  peradventure, 
that  he  was  performing  his  last  public  service.  From  this  time  he  was 
able,  for  about  two  months,  to  ride  out  occasionally  in  the  middle  of  the 
day.  In  May  following,  with  a  view  to  try  the  effect  once  more  of  a 
change  of  climate,  he  went  with  his  family  to  Raleigh  ;  but  he  went  never 
to  return.  He  made  the  journey  not  without  great  difficulty  ;  and,  after 
an  almost  insensible  decline  of  nine  months,  he  died,  without  a  strug- 
gle or  a  groan,  on  the  morning  of  January  18,  1820,  aged  thirty-five 
years. 

From  communications  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Oilman,  who  was  Mr.  Fors- 
ter's  successor  in  the  pastorate,  as  well  as  from  some  other  persons  who 
were  acquainted  with  him,  I  have  received  tlie  following  impressions  con- 
cerning his  character: — His  mind  was  naturally  quick  and  clear  in  its 
operations,  and,  though  remarkably  independent  in  forming  its  judgments, 
was  singularly  free  from  dogmatism.  He  had  great  transparency  of  char- 
acter, and  was  always  careful  that  neither  his  tongue  nor  his  pen  ever  mis- 
represented his  honest  convictions.  He  had  a  large  amount  of  strong  com- 
mon sense,  that  stamped  his  general  intercourse  with  society  with  great 
decorum,  and  rendered  him  an  excellent  judge  of  human  character.  He  had 
great  kindness  and  delicacy  of  feeling,  both  of  which  qualities  were  faithfully 
represented  in  his  manners.  In  his  domestic  and  social  relations,  he  was  at 
once  eminently  attractive  and  exemplary.  As  a  Preacher,  his  thoughts 
were  clearly  and  forcibly  expressed — in  the  earlier  part  of  his  ministry  his 
discourses  were  highly  acceptable  in  all  Orthodox  churches  —  in  the  latter 
part  of  it,  they  were  equally  acceptable  to  the  congregation  with  which  he 
had  then  connected  himself. 


DAVID   DAMON.  461 


DAVID  DAMON,  D.  D* 

1813—1843. 

David  Damon  was  a  descendant,  in  the  fifth  generation,  of  Tliomas 
Diunon,  who  caoe  from  tlie  North  of  England,  probably  about  1650,  and 
settled  in  that  part  of  Charlestown  which  is  now  Stoneliani.  He  was  the 
eldest  child  of  Aaron  and  Rachel  (Griffin)  Damon,  and  was  born  at  East 
Sudbury  (now  Wayland,)  Mass.,  on  the  I'ith  of  September,  1787.  His 
fiither  was  a  farmer  in  moderate  circumstances,  and  barely  able  to  .support 
his  family  ;  so  that  the  son  was  dependent  for  his  education  entirely  upon 
his  own  exertions.  The  first  ten  or  twelve  years  of  his  life  he  spent  at 
liDiiie,  attending  the  district  school  as  soon  as  he  was  old  enough  ;  and,  at 
a  little  later  period,  assisting  his  father,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  in  his  work 
upon  the  farm.  For  a  year  or  two,  he  lived  with  a  physician,  Dr.  Ban- 
croft, of  Weston,  and,  by  the  services  which  he  rendered  in  the  family,  and 
some  other  services  performed  elsewhere,  he  acquired  the  means  of  support- 
ing himself  for  a  time  at  the  Andover  Phillips  Academy,  where  he  entered 
in  the  spring  of  1806.  When  these  means  were  exhausted,  he  left  the 
Academy  for  a  time,  and  taught  a  district  school  in  Framingham,  and 
engaged  in  other  employments,  thus  enabling  hin)self  to  return  to  Andover 
and  complete  his  preparation  for  College.  He  entered  at  Harvard  in  1807, 
and,  after  maintaining  an  excellent  rank  as  a  scholar  through  his  whole 
course,  graduated  in  1811,  having  among  his  classmates  Everett,  Frothing- 
liam,  Gilman,  and  others  who  have  been  eminent  in  their  respective  sta- 
tions. He  supported  himself,  during  his  college  life,  partly  by  performing 
some  services  for  his  fellow. students,  for  which  he  received  compensation, 
partly  by  teaching  a  school,  and  partly  by  writing  for  a  literary  paper  at 
that  time  published  in  Boston.  He  early  developed  an  uncommon  talent 
for  writing,  and  it  is  believed  that  some  of  the  productions  of  his  pen  had 
been  printed  even  before  he  entered  College. 

Having  spent  the  year  immediately  succeeding  his  graduation  at  And- 
over  as  Preceptor  of  Franklin  Academy,  he  entered  on  a  course  of  theo- 
loirical  studies  under  the  direction  of  President  Kirkland,  the  elder  Pro- 
fessor  Ware  and  Professor  Sidney  Willard, — having  for  his  fellow-students 
six  or  eight  of  his  classmates,  besides  a  number  who  had  graduated  at  an 
earlier  period.  He  was  licensed  to  preach  on  the  22d  of  November,  1813, 
by  the  Boston  Association  ;  and,  on  the  Sabbath  following,  preached  his  first 
sermon  for  the  Rev.  Charles  Lowell,  at  the  West  Church,  Boston.  After 
this,  he  supplied,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  at  East  Sudbury,  West- 
minster, Dedham,  Gloucester,  and  Leominster,  and  finally  at  Lunenburg  ; 
and  from  the  last  mentioned  congregation  he  received  a  call  to  become  their 
Pastor.  This  call  he  accepted,  and,  on  the  1st  of  February,  1815,  he  was 
ordained  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  Church 
in  Lunenburg, — the  Rev.  Dr.  Ware  preaching  the  sermon. 

The    Society  over  which   Mr.   Damon   was   placed  had   been  gradually 

•Christian  Register,  1843. —  MSS.  from  the  Rev.  Drs.  Joseph  Allen  and  Samuel  K. 
Lothrop,  and  Mr.  S.  G.  Damon. 


462  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

diniiiiisliing  in  numbers  since  the  days  of  the  venerable  Zabdiel  Adams,* 
one  of  liis  predecessors  ;  and  when  Mr.  D.  became  its  Pastor,  he  found  it 
in  a  somewhat  divided  state  in  respect  to  religious  opinions.  As  this  was 
just  about  the  period  when  the  controversy  between  the  Unitarians  and  the 
Orthodox  in  Massachusetts  began  to  assume  a  palpable  form,  it  was  hardly 
to  be  expected  that  any  thing  like  unanimity  of  religious  sentiment  should 
have  been  speedily  brought  about,  or  that  his  relations  to  his  people  should 
Dot  have  been  painfully  modified  by  the  existing  state  of  things.  He 
remained  at  Lunenburg,  much  respected  by  the  community  at  large,  and 
especially  by  his  ministerial  brethren  in  the  neighbourhood,  during  a  period 
of  nearly  thirteen  years.  lie  was  dismissed,  at  his  own  request,  in  Decem- 
ber, 1827.  The  Sermon  which  he  preached  on  taking  leave  of  his  people 
•was  published. 

Mr.  Damon  did  not  remain  long  without  a  pastoral  charge.  After 
preaching  for  several  months  in  Augusta,  Me.,  he  was  invited  to  supply 
the  pulpit  of  the  Congregational  Society  of  Salisbury  and  Amesbur}', 
Mass.,  and,  in  due  time,  he  received  a  call  to  become  their  Pastor.  He 
accepted  the  call,  and  was  installed  on  the  25th  of  June,  1828.  Here,  after 
about  five  years,  he  resigned  his  pastoral  charge  for  reasons  indicated  in  the 
following  letter  addressed  to  his  church  and  congregation,  dated  at  Ames, 
bury,  December  4,  1832  : 

"Christian  Brethren  and  Friends:  Having  been  informed  by  members 
of  the  Society,  who  are  undoubtedly  well  acquainted  with  its  situation, 
that  a  portion  of  the  pecuniary  aid  promised  to  the  Society,  previous  to  my 
settlement  with  you,  is  withheld,  and  that  influence  which  it  was  then 
expected  would  be  exerted  in  favour  of  our  Society,  has  been  turned  against 
it,  and  that  on  these  accounts  the  Society  is  unable  to  continue  my  sup- 
port, I  therefore  respectfully  ask  a  dissolution,  &c. 

"  Your  Pastor  and  aff"ectionate  brother  in  Christ, 

"  David  Damon." 

The  Council  to  whom  the  matter  was  referred  gave  their  sanction  to  the 
dissolution  of  the  pastoral  relation,  but  rendered  the  highest  testimony  to 
the  "  wisdom,  fortitude,  and  self-sacrifice"  by  which  Mr.  Damon's  course, 
under  circumstances  of  great  difficulty,  had  been  marked.  The  exact  date 
of  his  dismission  was  May  1-4,  1833. 

During  the  summer  of  1833,  Mr.  Damon  preached  at  Easton,  Mass., 
and  subsequently  received  an  invitation  to  become  the  minister  of  that  con. 
gregation,  which,  however,  he  declined.  In  the  succeeding  autumn,  he 
removed  his  family  to  Reading,  where  he  supplied  the  pulpit  for  an  indefi- 
nite period,  receiving  here  another  invitation  to  settle  in  the  ministry,  to 
which  also  he  returned  a  negative  answer.  At  this  period  he  preached  with 
acceptance  in  two  or  three  of  the  Boston  pulpits,  whose  Pastors  were  sick 
or  absent ;  and  in   the    winter  of  1834-35,  at  Duxbury  and  West  Cam. 

*  Zabdikl  Adams  was  born  in  Quincy,  Mass.,  November  5,  17^9  (his  mother,  Ann  Boyls- 
ton,  being  the  sister  of  tlio  first  President  Adams)  ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1769; 
was  ordained  at  Lunenburg  September  5,  17()4;  and  died  March  1,  1801,  aged  sixty-two 
years.  lie  published  an  Answer  to  a  pamphlet  entitled  "A  Treatise  on  Church  Government," 
1773;  a  Sermon  preached  before  a  Masonic  Lodge  at  Lancaster,  1778;  the  Massachusetts 
Election  Sermon,  1782;  a  Sermon  preached  at  Lexington,  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Com- 
mencement of  the  War,  1783;  two  Sermons  preached  at  Sterling,  1791;  a  Sermon  preached 
at  Taunton  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  John  Foster,  1792. 


DAVID    DAMON.  463 

bridge.  In  March,  1835,  he  was  invited  by  the  people  of  "West  Cambridge 
to  become  their  Pastor;  and,  about  the  same  time,  liad  under  considera- 
tion similar  invitations  from  Easton,  and  Meadville,  Pa.  He  had  never 
preached  at  Meadville;  but,  on  the  recommendation  of  their  New  Eng- 
land friends,  the  Society  extended  to  him  a  cordial  invitation  to  settle 
among  them.  The  call  from  West  Cambridge,  however,  proved  most 
attractive  to  him,  and  he,  accordingly,  accepted  it,  and  was  installed  there 
on  the  15th  of  April, — the  Rev.  Dr.  Lowell  preaching  the  Installation 
Sermon. 

In  January,  1841,  he  preached  the  Annual  Sermon  before  the  Legisla- 
ture of  Massachusetts  :  and,  in  May  following,  delivered  tlie  Dudleian  Lec- 
ture in  Harvard  College.  The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred 
upon  him  by  his  Alma  IMater  in  1843  ;  but  it  had  not  been  publicly 
announced  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

On  the  14th  of  June,  1843,  he  delivered  an  Address  at  the  Consecration 
of  the  new  Cemetery  in  West  Cambridge.  He  was  requested  to  publish 
it,  and  had  intended  to  do  so,  but  death  prevented  the  fulfilment  of  his 
purpose  ;  though  it  was  afterwards  published  by  his  family.  The  Sabbath 
immediately  succeeding  the  delivery  of  this  Address — the  last  Sabbath  of 
his  life — he  passed  at  Lunenburg,  the  scene  of  his  first  pastorate,  and  there 
preached  with  great  earnestness  in  the  pulpit  in  which,  twenty-eight  years 
before,  he  had  received  Ordination.  After  two  or  three  days  deliglitfully 
spent  among  his  friends,  he  took  leave  of  tliem,  and  returned  to  his  home 
in  West  Cambridge.  On  the  Friday  following,  lie  went  to  Reading  to 
officiate  at  the  Funeral  of  an  intimate  friend,  tlie  Hon.  Edmund  Parker,  a 
brother  of  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Parker,  of  Portsmouth.  His  Sermon  on  this 
occasion  is  said  to  have  been  marked  by  unusual  ability,  and  the  prayer  to 
have  been  one  of  great  tenderness  and  fervour.  In  announcing  the  Hymn 
to  be  sung  by  the  choir  at  the  close  of  the  service,  his  utterance  became 
slightly  impeded,  and  a  numbness  which  had  begun  to  creep  over  him  while 
he  was  preaching  coYisiderably  increased.  He  sunk  back  upon  the  seat, 
and  beckoned  to  a  physician  who  was  sitting  near  the  pulpit  to  come  to 
him.  The  physician  obeyed  the  summons,  and  Dr.  Damon,  while  the  choir 
were  singing,  conversed  calmly  with  him,  and  expressed  the  opinion  that 
it  was  an  attack  of  apoplexy  from  which  he  was  suffering.  At  the  close 
of  the  singing,  he  was  conveyed  to  the  house  from  which  the  body 
of  Mr.  Parker  had  just  been  brought,  and  there  the  physician  bled  him, 
and  administered  some  medicine;  but  he  soon  sunk  into  a  state  of  uncon. 
sciousness.  In  this  state  he  continued  until  two  o'clock  Sabbath  morning, 
when,  for  a  moment,  he  opened  his  eyes,  apparently  in  a  conscious  state, 
and  looked  upon  those  at  his  bedside,  and  then  closed  them — and  was  dead. 
His  body  was  conveyed  to  West  Cambridge,  where  the  Funeral  services 
were  conducted  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Francis,  and  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Daniel  Aus- 
tin, Samuel  Ripley,  and  Caleb  Stetson  ;  and  he  was  laid  in  the  new  Ceme- 
tery on  the  twelfth  day  after  his  Address  at  its  Consecration. 

Mr.  Damon  was  married,  on  the  16th  of  October,  1815,  to  Rebekah, 
daughter  of  John  and  Sarah  (Norwood)  Derby,  of  Lynnfield,  with  whom 
he  became  acquainted  while  he  was  a  student  at  Andover.  They  had 
seven  children, —  four  sous  and  three  daughters.     Mrs.  Damon  died  at  the 


464  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

house  of  one  of  her  sons  in  Boston,  May  21,  1852,  in  the  sixty-fifth  year 
of  her  age. 

The  following  is  believed  to  be  a  nearly  or  entirely  complete  list  of  IMr. 
Damon's  publications  : — A  Sermon  preached  at  Worcester  not  fur  from  the 
year  1820.  Sketch  of  the  Life  and  Character  of  the  late  Rev.  Joseph 
Mottey,  of  Lynnfield,  published  originally  in  the  Christian  Disciple,  1822. 
A  Sermon  preached  at  Concord,  at  the  Semi-annual  Meeting  of  the  Evan- 
gelical Society  in  Massachusetts,  1823.  A  Sermon  preached  at  Charlton, 
Miiss.,  at  the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Auxiliary  Bible  Society  in  the  County 
of  Worcester,  1826.  A  Sermon  delivered  at  Lunenburg,  at  the  Close  of 
his  Ministry  there,  1827.  An  Address  on  Temperance,  delivered  at  Ames- 
bury,  1829.  A  Sermon  entitled  "  What  is  Truth  ?"  about  1830.  A  Ser- 
mon entitled  "  The  Common  Faith  of  Christians,"  published  in  the  Liberal 
Preacher,  1830.  A  Sermon  entitled  "  Means  of  Attaining  Religion," 
published  for  the  Union  Ministerial  Association,  1832.  A  Sermon  entitled 
"  Human  Life  a  Tale,"  delivered  at  Amesbury.  A  Sermon  entitled  "  The 
Exceeding  Sinfulness  of  Sin."  A  Sermon  on  Acts  li,  22.  An  Address 
delivered  before  the  Ministerial  Conference,  in  Berry  Street,  Boston,  1840. 
A  Sermon  preached  after  the  Death  of  Philip  Augustus  Whittemore,  1841. 
A  Sermon  delivered  before  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts,  at  the  An- 
nual Election,  1841.  An  Address  at  the  Consecration  of  the  New  Ceme- 
tery at  West  Cambridge,  1843.  He  published  also,  in  the  newspapers  of 
the  day,  a  Notice  of  the  Rev.  William  Gra}''  Swett,  a  Poem  delivered  at 
West  Cambridge,  and  various  other  minor  productions  of  his  pen. 

The  following  extract  from  his  Farewell  Sermon,  preached  at 
Lunenburg,  contains  the  fullest  account  of  his  theological  views  that  I  have 
been  able  to  obtain  : — 

'•'  I  have  insisted  much  upon  the  actual  sinfulness  of  mankind,  in  every  age  of  the 
world, —  not  their  innate  and  total,  in  wliich  I  do  not  believe, —  but  their  acquired, 
and  very  visible  and  lamentable  moral  depravity,  as  attested  by  experience,  observa- 
tion, history,  and  the  word  of  God;  upon  the  odious  nature  of  sin  in  the  siglitof  God, 
its  miserable  C(jnsequeiices  here,  and  its  more  miserable-  consequences  hereafter, 
to  those  who  live  and  die  .impenitent.  I  have  insisted  much  upon  this  doctrine  of 
human  sinfulness,  both  as  laying  a  broad  foundation  for  God's  merciful  interposition 
in  our  belialf  by  a  Redeemer,  and  as  adapted  to  bring  individual  sinners  to  repen- 
tance. 

"  I  have  endeavoured  to  preach  and  proclaim  the  good  news  of  future  eternal  salva- 
tion from  the  miserable  consequences  of  sin ;  and  this  salvation  as  originating  in  the  free, 
unpurchased  and  infinite  grace  of  God. 

"  I  have  described  this  great  salvation  as  dispensed  to  men  by  a  Mediator,  who  is 
Christ  Jesus,  the  Messiah  predicted  by  the  prophets,  the  Son  of  God,  to  whom  the 
Father  was  pleased  to  give  the  Spirit  without  measure,  and  in  whom,  consequently, 
all  the  fulness  of  Deity  dwells  bodily.  Without  adverting  often  or  dwelling  much  upon 
those  questions  concerning  the  nature  of  the  ]\Iessia]i,  wliich  seem  to  have  ministered 
to  strife  more  frequently  than  to  godly  edifying,  I  have  dwelt  much  and  often  upon 
his  official  character,  upon  wliat  lie  is  to  us ;  and,  in  this  point  of  view,  I  seem  to 
myself  to  understand,  and  revere  and  love  11  im  more,  the  more  I  contemplate  Him 
and  his  mission  of  benevolence  and  mercy  in  our  world.  In  this  bis  public  and  official 
character  I  have  regarded  and  i)reached  Christ,  as  the  one  Mediator,  interposed 
between  God  and  man,  to  be  classed  with  no  other  being,  as  God's  Ambassador  to 
men,  and,  as  such,  to  be  honoured  by  tliem.  as  the  medium,  the  free  and  wide  me- 
dium, the  instrument,  the  voluntary,  honoured  and  successful  instrument,  of  the  Di- 
vine communications  of  grace,  mercy  and  peace  to  the  rebellious  and  sinning  race  of 
men;  as  our  Prophet  to  instruct,  our  Priest  to  make  reconciliation,  the  spiritual  Head 
or  King  of  his  Church  on  eartli,and  the  constituted  Judge  of  the  world  at  thelastday. 
The  mercy,  pardon  and  salvation,  originating  in  the  free  grace  of  God,  and  oft'ercfl  to 
men  through  his  Son,  I  have  regarded  and  preached  as  offered  with  equal  sincerity  to 
one  as  to  another,  impartially  and  alike  to  all,  believing,  with  the  Apostle  Peter,  that, 


DAVID    DAMON.  4o5 

'of  a  truth,  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons.'  I  have  also  preached  Clirist  <as  an  ex- 
ample and  pattern  to  his  followers,  and,  disregarding  alarms  and  exclamations  con- 
cerning legal  preaching,  and  legal  preachers,  and  the  dangers  of  leading  men  to  vain 
attempts  to  obtain  salvation  by  wurks.  1  have  supposed  that  I  was  truly  preaching 
Christ  and  his  Gospel,  when  I  was  endeavouring  to  enforce  his  precepts  or  to  exhibit 
his  example.  In  describing  the  character  of  the  Messiah  summarily,  I  have  been 
particnlarilj'  habituated  to  speaking  of  Him  as  our  onlj'  and  all  sufficient  Saviour.  I 
have  declared  to  you  that  the  Saviour  was  crucified  and  slain  by  wicked  men;  that  his 
death  was  an  important  and  necessary  part  of  his  mediatorial  work;  that  He  was  laised 
from  the  dead  by  the  power  of  God  on  the  third  liay ;  that  He  ascended  into  Heaven, 
and  is  seated  on  the  right  hand  of  God,  where  He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for 
us,  and  whence  He  will  come  again,  in  his  own  glory  and  the  glory  of  his  Father,  to 
raise  the  dead,  judge  tlie  world,  and  recompense  his  followers. 

''  The  resurrection  or  our  Lord  has  been  much  insisted  upon,  both  as  an  incontes- 
table fact,  which  is  one  of  the  principal  evidences  of  the  truth  and  Divine  origin  of  our 
holy  religion  and  as  an  earnest  of  the  future  resurrection  of  all  xwdxi.  The  doctrine  of 
such  future  resurrection,  and  of  a  future  retribution  also,  has  been  preached  to  you, 
in  w-hich  the  future  misery  of  the  impenitent  lias  been  insisted  upon  as  an  object  of 
Christian  faith,  as  well  as  the  future  happiness  of  the  penitent.  But  I  have  not 
attempted  to  describe  either  the  hapjjiness  of  the  righteous  or  the  misery  of  the  wicked 
in  the  future  state  with  the  minuteness  of  an  eye-witness,  or  as  one  might  dc.--cribe 
them  if  he  knew  what  they  were  by  personal  experience;  but,  persuaded  that  human 
knowledge  of  this  subject  is  restricted  to  what  God  has  been  pleased  to  reveal,  I 
have  endeavoured  to  impress  upon  my  own  mind  and  the  minds  of  others  the  truth 
that  every  ()ne  will  receive  the  things  done  in  his  body,  according  to  that  he  hath  done, 
.  whether  it  be  good  or  bad;  and  have  endeavoured  to  allure  men  to  have  respect  to  a 
future  recompense  of  reward,  by  representing  the  joys  of  Heaven  not  as  jjassive  or  in- 
sipid, but  as  the  active  exercises  of  holy  beings,  whose  energies  of  soul  are  employed 
in  sublime  worsliip,  benevolent  offices,  and  the  successful  pursuit  of  boundless  know- 
ledge. 

"It  has  been  declared  to  you  that  the  salvation  proffered  to  you  through  the  Saviour 
is  offered  uixm  the  conditions  of  faith  and  repentance;  that  these  holy  exercises  of  the 
heart  constitute  spiritual  life,  or  the  new  birth,  and  that  their  existence  is  to  be  inferred 
by  their  fruits  of  Christian  obedience. 

•'  The  necessity  of  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  power  of  God  to  produce- 
holy  exercises  in  the  heart  of  man  has  always  been  insisted  upon;  but  you  have,  at 
the  same  time,  been  warned  to  pray  for  such  influences,  and  not  to  resist  them  or  grieve- 
them  away,  to  expect  them  through  the  instrumentality  of  conscience,  providences,, 
and  the  word  of  God,  and  not  in  miraculous  and  irresistible  effusions,  and  that  you. 
ought  to  be  active  in  working  out  your  salvation,  since  it  is  God  who  worketh  in  you 
to  will  and  to  do,  as  the  husbandman  is  active  and  diligent  in  cultivating  the  ground,, 
although  it  is  God  who  gives  its  increase. 

"  I  have  not  preached  the  doctrine  of  a  Trinity  of  Persons  in  the  one  true  God,  nor 
any  of  the^re  points  of  the  long  and  extensively  popular  Calvinistic  system  of  The- 
ology ;  because  I  do  not  believe  these  doctrines  to  be  any  part  of  revealed  truth,  and. 
am  persuaded  that  they  have  all  of  them  a  bad  moral  tendency,  so  far  as  they  ope- 
rate without  influence  or  modification  from  other  principles  associated  with  them." 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Syracuse,  November  6,  1862. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  first  knew  David  Damon  while  he  was  a  resident  graduate 
and  student  of  Theology  at  Cambridge.  I  well  remember  hearing  him  read  his 
dissertations  in  the  College  Chapel,  which  were  characterized  by  much  more 
than  ordinary  ability.  When  I  went,  in  1842,  to  take  charge  of  the  Normal 
School  in  Lexington,  he  was  Pastor  of  the  Unitarian  Church  in  West  Cam 
bridge,  and  I  was  thus  brought  into  his  immediate  neighbourhood,  and  into 
more  intimate  relations  with  him  from  the  circumstance  of  having  one  of  his 
daughters  among  my  pupils.  I  did  not  know  him  long  after  this,  however, 
for  he  died,  I  think,  the  next  year,  and  it  devolved  on  me  to  supply  his 
bereaved  congregation  on  the  Sabbath  after  his  Funeral. 

Mr.  Damon's  external  appearance  was  not  imposing  or  specially  attractive.. 
His  countenance,  in  a  state  of  repose,  was  rather  heavy,  though  it  occasionally 
lighted  up  into  something  approaching  a  glow.      His  person  was  by  no  means- 

Vol.  VIII.  30 


460  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

gracefully  formed,  the  tones  of  his  voice  were  somewhat  rigid,  and  his  manners 
would  not  suggest  the  idea  of  his  having  been  used  to  polished  society.  But 
rarely  have  I  known  a  case  in  which  so  little  of  the  mind  and  the  heart  came  out 
through  the  exterior.  You  might  have  supposed,  on  a  casual  interview  with 
him,  that  lie  was  one  of  the  obscurest  farmers  of  his  parisli;  but  as  you  came 
to  penetrate  into  the  interior  of  his  character,  you  would  find  a  mine  of  intel- 
lectual and  moral  wealth  that  you  had  never  dreamed  of.  Ilis  intellect  wa.s 
naturally  sound  and  well  balanced,  and  had  been  cultivated  by  diligent  and 
diversified  study.  lie  wrote  with  great  simplicity  and  clearness,  and  withal 
with  much  logical  accuracy.  He  contributed  some  articles,  I  remember,  to 
some  of  the  early  volumes  of  the  Christian  Examiner,  which  were  highly 
creditable  to  his  intellect  and  his  scholarship.  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever 
heard  him  preach;  but  I  am  sure  that  the  merit  of  his  preaching  must  have 
consisted  rather  in  his  matter  than  his  manner;  and  his  popularity  must  have 
been  greatest  among  the  most  refiecting  portion  of  his  audience;  though  I  be- 
lieve he  was  never  otherwise  than  acceptable  to  the  masses.  He  was  a  man 
of  most  considerate  kindness,  and  was  ever  on  the  alert  to  perform  good 
offices  towards  any  of  his  fellow  men,  whenever  it  was  in  his  power.  Ilis 
pecuniary  means  were  far  from  being  abundant,  and  yet  his  house  and  his 
heart  were  always  open  in  a  generous  hospitality. 

He  had  an  almost  morbid  conscientiousness  —  if  he  was  in  doubt  as  to  any 
matter  of  duty,  he  would  carefully  scrutinize  every  point  having  a  bearing 
upon  it,  and  would  sometimes  betray,  by  his  air  and  manner  as  well  as  by  his 
communications  to  his  confidential  friends,  the  utmost  solicitude  lest  he  should 
be  betrayed  into  an  error.  Some  amusing  anecdotes  are  told  of  him  illustra- 
tive of  this  peculiarity,  Avhich,  however,  all  must  acknowledge,  are  highly 
honourable  to  his  integrity.  He  was  calm,  patient  and  cheerful,  even  in  the 
darkest  hour.  He  was  not  very  widely  known,  nor  would  he  probably  have 
been,  with  the  extreme  modesty  that  marked  his  character,  if  he  had  lived 
till  old  age;  but  those  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  have  penetrated  the 
.somewhat  unpromising  exterior,  looked  upon  him  as  a  man  of  rare  merit,  and 
far  more  worthy  to  live  in  the  gratitude  and  reverence  of  posterity  than  many 
whose  names  are  found  on  a  much  more  imposing  record. 

I  never  heard  Mr.  Damon  express  his  views  upon  any  of  the  great  contro- 
■verted  points  of  Theology,  but  some  of  his  friends  who  were  intimate  with  him 
liave  the  full  conviction  that  he  adopted  the  Arian  view  of  the  person  of 
Christ.  His  preaching,  I  am  confident,  was  raiely,  if  ever,  of  a  controversial 
character.  Yours  respectful Ij^ 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 


JOHN  EMERY  ABBOT  * 

]  815— 1819. 

JoHT^  Emery  Abbot  was  a  son  of  Benjamin  Abbot,  LL.  D.,t  wlio, 
for  more  than  half  a  century,  was  Principal  of  Phillips  Academy,  Exeter, 

•  Memoir  bj'  Rev.  Henry  AVare,  Jr. 

t  15KNJAMIN  Abbot  was  a  native  of  Andover,  Mass. ;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in 
1788;  and,  immediatoly  after,  took  charge  of  the  Academy  in  Exeter,  then  recently  founded 
by  the  Hon.  John  Phillips.  This  position  he  held,  with  the  highest  reputation,  until  18.38; 
and,  on  his  resigning  his  office  at  that  time,  there  was  a  gathering  of  his  old  pupils  from  all 
quarters  to  present  him  with  a  testimonial  of  their  regard.  He  spent  the  remainder  of  his 
days  at  Exeter,  living  in  dignified  retirement,  and  died  in  the  year  1849.  He  was  honoured 
with  the  degree  of  L>octor  of  Laws,  from  Dartmouth  College,  in  1811. 


JOHN    EMERY   ABBOT.  467 

N.  H.  His  mother,  whom  he  is  said  to  have  greatly  resembled,  and  who 
lived  but  a  few  months  after  his  birth,  solemnly  dedicated  him  to  the  care  and 
grace  of  God,  in  the  prospect  of  her  own  departure  ;  and  his  knowledge  of 
this  fact  is  said  to  have  had  much  to  do  in  giving  a  serious  direction  to  his 
earliest  tiioughts  and  feelings.  His  childhood,  as  well  as  his  whole  subse- 
quent  life,  was  marked  by  the  most  amiable  and  gentle  spirit  ;  and,  "  while 
a  member  of  the  Academy,"  says  one  of  his  schoolmates,  "  no  one  regarded 
liim  as  capable  of  doing  wrong — we  looked  on  him  as  a  purer  being  than 
others  around  him." 

Having  gone  through  his  preparatory  course,  he  became  a  member  of 
Bowdoiu  College,  Brunswick,  where  he  had  an  excellent  reputation  for 
both  scholarship  and  deportment,  and  was  graduated,  in  1810,  at  the  early 
age  of  seventeen.  He  had  a  great  distrust  of  his  own  powers;  in  illustra- 
tion of  which  it  may  be  mentioned  that  he  once  told  a  friend  that  so  great, 
at  one  period,  was  his  despondency,  that  he  would  willingly  have  exchanged 
all  his  future  hopes  and  prospects  for  the  certainty  of  living  as  a  schoolmas- 
ter in  some  remote  village  ; — the  office  of  a  clergyman,  although,  from  his 
earliest  recollection,  the  object  of  his  most  ardent  desires,  appearing  to 
him  a  situation  of  too  much  dignity  for  him  to  aspire  to. 

Shortly  after  leaving  College,  he  commenced  his  preparation  for  the  min- 
istry. He  prosecuted  his  theological  studies,  partly  at  the  University  in 
Cambridge,  and  partly  under  the  direction  of  the  llev.  Dr.  Channing,  in 
Boston.  He  evinced  the  utmost  reverence  for  the  sacred  office,  and  seems 
to  have  attached  much  more  importance  to  the  moral  than  the  intellectual 
preparation  for  entering  it.  The  following  extracts  from  three  of  his  let- 
ters, the  first  written  just  before  he  began  to  preach,  and  the  others  imme- 
diately after,  may  serve  to  illustrate  his  views  of  the  profession  to  which  he 
was  devoting  himself: 

'•  How  soon  I  shall  be  presented  for  approval,  I  know  not  exactly.  As  I  draw  nearer 
the  close  of  mj'  course,  I  feel  a  greater  importance  to  be  thrown  into  the  little  time  tl^at 
remains  befure  its  termination.  And  the  more  I  reflect,  the  more  solemn  appears  the 
office  of  a  Shepherd  of  tlie  Christian  flock.  To  enlighten  the  ignorant  with  truth,  to 
guide  the  wandering  and  the  doubting,  to  give  hope  to  the  penitent  and  consolation  to 
the  sorrowing,  and  to  arouse  the  sleep  of  the  sinner,  is  indeed  a  blessed,  but  a  most 
responsible  office;  and  it  seems  the  more  solemn  when  we  think  that  it  is  committed 
to  earthen  vessels,  who  themselves  are  ignorant  and  wandering,  surrounded  with 
temiitations,  darkened  by  error  and  polluted  with  sin.  It  is  a  most  animating  thought 
that  He  who  promised  to  his  Apostles,  '  Lo,  I  am  ever  with  you,'  forsakes  not  their 
feeble  successors." 

In  another  letter  he  writes  thus  : — 

'•  I  am,  as  you  may  suppose,  now  in  a  state  of  feeling  and  views  to  which  life  has 
never  before  called  me.  I  look  to  the  profession,  which  God  has  now  permitted  me  to 
assume,  with  a  kind  of  solemn  deliglit,  when  I  think  of  the  magnitude  of  its  object,  the 
■weajvui'ss  of  its  instrument,  and  the  promised  aid  fiom  above.  There  is  a  thought 
which  often  affects  me  when  I  remember  that  all  my  life,  all  the  labours  and  o])portu- 
nities  and  powers  I  have  received,  are  now  to  be  devoted  and  consecrated  to  Him  who 
gave  and  has  continued  them.  There  is  a  sort  of  elevation  which  considerations  like 
this  sometimes  create,  wjiich,  if  I  could  bear  with  me  to  the  world,  I  should  be  most 
happy.  Tlie  evil  is,  that  feeling  is  often  kindled  and  e.xpires  in  the  closet,  and  wlien 
we  go  fortli  to  the  world,  we  must  act  only  from  tlie  cold  i)rinciples  which  reason  has 
matured,  and  the  habitual  dispositions  which  time  lias  freed  from  all  enthusiasm.  It 
has  always  seemed  to  me  a  most  wi.«e  provision  with  regard  to  our  constitution,  that 
we  gradually  and  imperceptibly  become  cimfdrmed  to  circumstances,  and  when  called 
to  a  new  situation,  the  vvay  is  prepared  for  it  by  shiw  degrees.  I  expected  a  sort  of 
overjjowering  feeling,  in  first  commencing  the  sacred  duties,  but  when  I  first  entered 
the  desk,  I  felt  composed  and  calm." 


468  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

In  another  letter  he  writes  as  follows : — 

"  By  tliese  active  duties  I  hope  to  acquire  a  liabit  of  more  energy,  and  to  gain  some- 
thing of  practical  wisdom,  and  to  bicume  a  butter  member  of  society,  and  minister  of 

the  hopes  and  comforts  of  tlie  Gospel  to  the  poor  and  sorrowing.     My  dear ,  what 

a  holy  and  glorious  ])rofession  has  God  j)ermitted  me  to  assume  !  I  feel  that  it  is  a 
blessing  for  whicli  1  can  never  be  grateful  enough.  Its  duties  seem  to  be  those  of  tlie 
good  si)iril8  who  are  messengers  of  mercy  and  love  to  us;  bearing  consolation  to  the 
afflicted,  and  hope  to  the  des|K)nding,  and  warning  to  the  wanderer,  and  animation  and 
peace  to  the  humble  and  penitent.  I  often  feel  that  my  earlier  anticipations  of  the 
happiness  of  the  profession  are  indeed  surpassed." 

His  first  appearance  in  tlie  pulpit  excited  great  interest,  though  botli  his 
sermons  and  his  style  of  delivery  were  as  far  as  possible  from  display. 
There  was  a  simplicity,  a  solemnity,  an  earnestness  about  him,  that  ren- 
dered his  ministrations  deeply  impressive.  When  the  pulpit  in  the  North 
Church  in  Salem  was  vacated  by  tlie  death  of  Dr.  Barnard,  Mr.  Abbot  was 
immediately  spoken  of  as  a  suitable  person  to  succeed  him  :  he  was,  accord- 
ingly, employed  as  a  candidate,  received  and  accepted  a  call,  and  was 
ordained,  and  installed  as  their  minister,  on  the  20th  of  April,  1815. 

Notwithstanding  he  was  very  young  to  undertake  the  labours  iticident  to 
so  extensive  a  charge,  he  acquitted  himself  in  a  manner  that  gave  entire 
satisfaction  to  his  people,  and  secured  to  him,  in  a  high  degree,  their  confi- 
dence and  affection.  He  made  himself  personally  known,  so  far  as  possi- 
ble, to  every  individual  in  his  congregation,  and  became  a  sharer  in  the 
joys  and  sorrows  of  eacli  ;  while  he  wrote  his  sermons  with  great  care,  and 
delivered  them  in  a  fervent,  impressive,  but  quiet  manner.  With  a  consti- 
tution naturally  fragile,  it  soon  became  apparent  that  his  health  was  inade- 
quate to  the  amount  of  labour  which  he  had  undertaken  ;  and,  in  the  spring 
of  1817,  his  friends  began  to  discover,  as  they  thought,  some  symptoms  of 
pulmonary  disease.  In  October  he  niade  a  short  journey  to  the  South, 
from  which  he  received  injury  rather  than  benefit;  and,  on  his  return,  he 
took  a  severe  cold,  which  was  attended  with  a  violent  cough  and  bleeding 
at  the  lungs.  On  the  day  after  he  reached  home, —  the  first  Sabbath  in 
November,  he  preached  to  his  people  in  the  morning,  and  administered  the 
ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper  ; —  the  last  time,  as  it  proved,  that  he  ever 
officiated  in  that  service.  From  that  time,  the  most  painful  apprehensions 
were  awakened  concerning  him  ;  nor  did  he  hesitate  to  express  to  his 
friends  his  own  conviction  that  his  recovery  was  hopeless.  He  was  con- 
fined to  his  room,  and,  for  the  most  part,  to  his  bed,  during  the  winter; 
but,  as  the  spring  opened,  appearances  seemed  more  favourable,  and  he 
removed  to  Exeter,  where  he  passed  the  succeeding  summer  with  his 
parents.  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  in  July  to  an  intimate 
friend,  shows  that  he  was  somewhat  encouraged  to  hope  that  he  might 
again  be  permitted  to  return  to  his  labours  : — 

"  I  think  that  I  gain  strength,  and  now  cannot  but  rejoice  in  the  hope,  which  for  so 
long  a  time  I  felt  it  necessary  to  check,  as  it  rose,  of  being  again  permitted  to  minister 
the  Gospel  to  my  beloved  people.  In  this  restoration,  I  sue  the  direct  agency  of  Him 
who  first  bruathed  into  me  the  breatli  of  life;  the  skill  of  man  and  the  powers  of  medi- 
cine seemed  all  in  vain;  it  was  his  air,  tlie  warmth  of  his  sun,  the  bright  and  cheering 
prospect  of  tiie  earth  which  his  goodness  quickened  and  beautified,  which  thus  far  have 
dispelled  the  damps  of  disease,  and  enkindled  the  feeble  and  dying  flame  within  me. 
I  suppose  that  every  person,  when  restored  from  sickness,  flatters  himself  that  the 
feelings  of  piety,  which  deliverance  awakens,  will  not  decay.  God  grant  that  mine 
may  be  as  permanent  and  influential  as  they  ought  to  be." 


JOHN    EMERY    ABBOT.  469 

In  another  letter  lie  refers  tlius  to  his  feelings,  on  being  permitted  again 
to  attend  public  worship  : — 

''  I  could  not  help  my  mind  from  wandering  much  away,  and  being  filled  with  recol- 
lections of  the  past  years  of  my  own  life;  for  I  iiad  not  been  present  at  the  ordinance 
since  tliat  distressful  day  when  I  last  met  our  own  churcii  at  the  altar  I  think  there 
is  no  time  when  tlie  heart  more  expands  towards  all,  present  or  distant,  whom  (lod 
has  made  dear  to  it,  than  when  commemorating  that  Greater  Friend,  whose  love  was 
stronger  than  death." 

On  the  approach  of  autumn,  his  symptoms  became  more  unfavorable, 
and  it  was  deemed  expedient  that  he  should  pass  the  winter  iu  a  milder 
climate.  He,  accordingly,  in  the  early  part  of  November,  in  company 
with  an  intimate  friend,  sailed  fur  Havana  ;  but  he  had  a  rough  and 
fatiguing  voyage,  and  arrived  there  with  le.ss  strength  than  he  had  on  leav- 
ing home.  During  the  whole  period  of  his  residence  on  the  island,  lie 
experienced  no  relief,  but  was  rather  growing  weaker  —  still  he  was  greatly 
interested  in  surrounding  scenes  and  objects,  and,  during  a  part  of  the 
time,  kept  a  journal,  which  still  remains,  as  a  record  of  his  minute  and 
intelligent  observation.  He  formed  an  acquaintance  with  several  friars  of 
distinction,  and  with  one  of  them, —  a  man  of  superior  rank  and  fortune, 
lie  became  quite  intimate,  and  received  from  him  many  expressions  of  good 
will  and  regard.  After  some  time,  in  consequence  of  a  sudden  change  in 
the  weather,  he  took  a  severe  cold,  which  entirely  prostrated  him,  and 
seemed  likely  to  prove  the  harbinger  of  immediate  death.  As  soon  as  he 
had  partially  recovered  fron»  it,  he  embarked  for  Charleston,  S.  C. ;  und, 
on  his  arrival  there,  found  himself  considerably  invigorated,  and  for  a  short 
lime  was  encouraged  with  the  hope  that  his  health  might  yet  be  restored. 
But  a  few  days  put  an  end  to  this  delusion.  His  disease  was  evidently 
making  constant  progress,  and  neither  medical  skill,  nor  change  of  climate, 
nor  the  watchful  atid  affectionate  solicitude  of  friends,  could  prevent  it. 
When  it  was  remarked  to  him  that  he  was  in  low  spirits,  he  replied, — 
"  No,  not  in  low  spirits,  but  sober.  I  think  it  very  doubtful  whether  I 
am  ever  any  better,  and  it  is  time  for  me  now  to  consider  nsyself  a  pilgrim 
and  .stranger  on  the  earth."  In  the  midst  of  all  his  weakness,  however, — 
when  he  seemed  scarcely  adequate  to  the  effort  of  taking  care  of  himself, 
he  engaged  in  teaching  the  slave,  who  waited  upon  him,  to  read. 

About  the  middle  of  April  he  embarked  in  a  packet  at  Charleston  for 
Philadelphia,  where,  on  his  arrival,  he  was  met  by  his  father  and  some 
other  friends,  who  had  come  to  accompany  him  home.  His  strength  was 
far  gone,  and  from  that  time  he  could  speak  only  in  a  whisper.  "  We  will 
rejoice  together,"  said  he,  in  a  letter  written  to  a  friend  about  that  time, 
"  that  God  has  preserved  us  in  the  land  of  the  living  ;  and  I  will  be  happy, 
W'hatever  may  now  await  me,  in  the  thought  that  my  wanderings  are  done, 
and  I  am  again  in  my  own  home."  He  reached  Exeter  in  June  ;  and 
remained  there  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  most  affectionate  attentions  of 
parents  and  friends,  till  his  death,  which  occurred  October  6,  1819.  His 
Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  at  Salem  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Channing. 

Several  years  after  Mr.  Abbot's  death,  there  was  published  a  volume  of 
his  Sermons,  together  with  a  Memoir  of  his  life,  by  the  late  Rev.  Dr. 
Henry  Ware,  Jr.  The  Sermons  are  characterized  by  classic  purity  of 
style,  and  great  seriousness  and  fervour  ;  and,  as  they  are  all  on  general  sub- 


470 


UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


jects,  tliey  furnish  no  index  to  the  writer's  peculiar  views  of  Christian 
doctrine.      His  biographer,  however,  writes  thus  concerning  him  : — 

"  He  was  a  Unitarian  upon  principle  and  from  inquiry.  He  believed  the  doctrine 
of  the  single  but  unai)proached  supremacy  of  the  Fatiier  to  be  a  clear  and  most  impor- 
tant doctrine  of  Revealed  Religion.  He  honoured  Jesus  as  the  Son  and  Messenger  of  (iod, 
and  believed  that  He  had  an  existence  belbre  He  entered  our  world.  His  pruachiiig  was 
full  of  the  language  of  gratitude  and  veneration  towards  Him.  He  delighted  to  dwell 
on  the  delineation  of  his  character  and  offiees,  and  to  hold  up  his  excellence  to  love 
and  imitation.  The  blessings  of  his  mediation  and  intercession  were  among  his  favi)ur- 
ite  topics,  and  he  was  fond  of  attributing  a  peculiar  and  powerful,  though  undetiued, 
efficacy  to  his  sufferings  and  death." 

FROM  BENJAMIN  ABBOT,  LL.  U. 

Exeter,  N.  II.,  April  18,  1848. 

My  dear  Sir:  Your  kind  note,  of  the  10th  inst.,  caiue  duly  to  hand,  and  I 
hasten  to  answer  your  interesting  inquiries  concerning  my  much  loved  and 
lamented  son,  whom  I  hope  soon  to  greet  in. a  better  world.  But  at  a  very 
advanced  age, —  nearer  ninety  than  eighty, —  I  find  my  memory  in  respect  to 
bygone  events  too  much  shattered  to  be  trusted  on  paper,  and  for  the  fol- 
lowing details  I  am  indebted  to  my  wife,  who  came  into  the  family,  when  my 
son  was  in  his  fifth  year. 

"  His  childhood  was  most  peculiarly  marked  by  a  truthfulness  and  affec- 
tionate dependence  on  those  whom  he  loved,  like  the  vine  that  clings  to  its 
support.  From  my  earliest  knowledge  of  liim,  I  do  not  recollect  a  time  when 
he  caused  me  any  anxiety.  His  amiable  and  confiding  temper  was  always 
manifested  by  perfect  obedience.  His  modesty  and  humility  grew  with  his 
growth;  and  his  after  life  was  only  a  development  of  the  germ  within:  the 
spirit  seemed  to  be  there;  for  in  his  very  early  childhood  he  often  affected  the 
preacher  by  collecting  around  hiiu  his  young  companions,  and  going  through  the 
usual  services  of  a  clergyman  with  them;  and  I  believe  he  never  lost  sight  of  the 
sacred  office,  though  it  was  always  with  a  most  sensitive  and  humble  distrust 
of  himself.  His  college  life  was  altogether  exemplary;  and  he  was  greatly  es- 
teemed and  beloved  by  the  President,  Dr.  Appleton,  in  whose  family  he  resided. 
It  is  impossible  to  recall  the  tenor  of  his  early  life  without  deep  feeling;  and  the 
heart  has  a  thousand  emotions  which  the  lips  cannot  utter.  His  two  yeai-s 
of  suffering  evidently  manifested  how  deep  was  his  sense  of  the  value  of 
Christianity,  and  the  closing  month  of  his  short  pilgrimage  was  a  living  testi- 
mony to  his  patient  and  humble  trust  in  the  mercy  of  God.  After  his  return 
from  the  South,  being  convinced  of  tlie  ill  eftects  of  his  voyage  and  his  resi- 
dence in  a  warm  climate,  I  expressed  to  him  my  deep  regret  that  he  had  left 
his  home;  but  his  reply  was  that  it  was  all  right;  it  was  God's  will,  and  he 
could  cheerfully  and  trustingly  acquiesce  in  it.  His  affectionate  heart  clung  to 
those  whom  he  loved,  to  the  last  throb;  and  his  confidence  and  submission 
rose  higher  and  higher  as  he  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  grave;  and  the  last 
words  that  fell  from  his  lips  were  '  Lord  Jesus.'  " 

In  addition  to  the  above  from  my  wife,  I  have  obtained  the  following  rem- 
iniscences from  a  very  amiable  and  intelligent  lady,  who,  as  a  member  of  my 
family,  was  intimately  associated  with  my  son,  and  familiar  with  the  early 
movements  of  his  mind,  and  continued  to  know  him  well  to  the  close  of  his  life. 

<'  Although  nearly  a  generation  has  passed  away  since  he  fell  asleep,  some 
recollections  of  him  remain  of  so  prominent  a  character  that  time  cannot 
wear  them  out.  When  he  preached,  I  was  at  the  age  when  we  love  and  admire 
without  knowing  why,  and  could  not  fully  appreciate  the  privilege  I  enjoyed 
in  hearing  him.  Yet  one  incident  I  remember  as  if  it  were  yesterday.  In  one 
of  his  sermons  he  was  speaking  of  our  excessive  worldliness,  and  of  the  pre- 
vailing disposition  to  render  undue  honour  to  man,  when  he  suddenly  clasped 


JOHN    EMERY    ABBOT.  471 

his  hands  together,  looked  upward,  and  uttered,  as  from  the  depths  of  his 
soul,  the  words, —  "But  who,  0  Lord,  regardeth  thee?"  The  effect  on  one 
hearer  at  least  was  perfectly  electric. 

Several  years  hefore  his  settlement,  some  one  was  discussing  with  him  the 
question  whether  we  shall  know  each  other  in  a  future  world,  and  whether 
the  blest  are  acquainted  with  the  situation  of  those  they  loved  on  earth;  and 
he  promptly  declared  his  belief  in  both.  But  it  was  asked  whether  it  would 
not  impair  their  happiness  to  witness  the  unworthy  conduct  of  those  with 
whom  they  were  united  here.  lie  replied  that  he  thought  all  merely  human 
ties  would  drop  from  us  like  Avorn  out  garments,  and  that  only  the  ties  of 
sanctified  affection  would  remain  forever. 

"  His  enjoyment  of  literature  was  very  great,  and  his  taste  of  an  uncom- 
monly elevated  and  discriminating  character.  He  had  no  great  fondness  for  the 
then  popular  poetr}',  but  his  early  friends  never  can  forget  with  what  exciui- 
site  delight  he  read  and  repeated  "  Chamoun}'^," — those  strains  of  impas- 
sioned devotion  meeting  with  a  full  response  within  him.  His  mind  sought  out 
the  spiritual  element  both  in  prose  and  poetry,  as  instinctively  as  the  roots 
and  branches  of  a  tree  seek  to  draw  near  to  the  living  waters.  Thus  a  sky 
prospect  was  his  great  delight;  and  he  would  sit  gazing  upon  it,  as  if  seeking 
out  his  future  home,  apparently  indifferent  to  the  terrestiial  features  of  the 
landscape.  Yet  his  loving  seriousness  would  not  seldom  give  way  to  hearty 
laughter  at  quiet  humour  and  genuine  wit;  for  wit  ceased  to  be  genuine  to  him 
when  cutting  sarcasm  or  a  worse  alloy  mingled  with  it. 

«<  Though  easily  influenced  by  dear  fiiends  in  little  things,  he  always  gave 
his  opinion  firmly.  When  one  whom  he  loved  and  venerated  spoke  of  dancing 
parties  to  him  with  approbation,  he  said  he  thought  the  act  of  dancing  to  music 
perfectly  harndess  in  itself;  but  the  long  and  excessive  preparations,  the  latw 
hours,  unfitting  the  dancers  for  daily  duties, —  these  he  thought  constituted  a 
real  objection  to  it:  he  could  not  believe  it  right  to  spend  so  much  strength, 
time  and  money  upon  a  pleasure  which  attached  too  much  importance  to 
external  things. 

«'  He  seemed  to  have  a  sort  of  talisman  to  attract  the  affection  of  others, 
and  it  may  be  fitly  mentioned  here  that  he  had  the  happiness  of  proving  Gray's 
maxim  untrue,  that  no  man  can  have  but  one  mother.  The  one  who  gave  him 
to  God  as  soon  as  she  received  him,  whose  presence  made  her  home  a  sanctu- 
ary, was  happy  in  the  most  congenial  marriage  but  two  years.  Five  years 
afterwards,  her  place  was  supplied  by  one  whom  that  fine  instinct,  above  hinted 
at,  taught  him  to  regard  as  the  mother  of  his  spirit,  as  he  clung  to  her  with 
all  his  loving  heart.  She  loved  him  with  the  love  usually  given  to  the  first 
born,  and  received  him  as  a  gift  from  Heaven.  An  old  and  valued  domestic, 
living  in  the  family,  told  me  that  Mrs.  Abbot  mourned  herself  sick  on  the  day 
John  went  to  College.  Her  children  were  greeted  by  him  with  delight;  and 
one  of  them  probably  never  shed  tears  of  more  passionate  sorrow  than  when 
he  accidently  learned  that  John  was  not  his  own  brother.  His  sister  also 
regarded  him  with  the  most  affectionate  veneration.  Thus  he  lived  on,  loving 
and  beloved,  till  it  appeared  the  Master  was  calling  for  him,  and  all  that  friend- 
ship could  do  was  to  "  slope  the  path  that  leads  to  death."  One  mightier,, 
dearer  than  all  earthly  friends,  had  trodden  that  path  before  him;  and,  as- 
the  hour  of  departure  drew  near,  that  Friend  revealed  Himself  more  fully  tO' 
his  soul,  and  he  declared,  near  the  close  of  life,  that  the  more  he  reflected 
upon  Christ,  the  more  exalted  his  character  appeared  to  him,  and  the  words, — 
««  Blessed  Lord  Jesus,"  were  the  last  he  ever  uttered." 

If,  my  dear  Sir,  you  can  extract  from  the  above  any  thing  in  aid  of  your 
object,  in  which  of  course  I  feel  all  the  interest  of  a  father,  it  will  much  gratify 
Your  sincere  friend  and  humble  servant,  B.  ABBOT. 


472  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROxM  THE  REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  February  24  1848. 
My  dear  Sir:  My  knowledge  of  John  Emery  Abbot  is  too  limited  to  be  of 
any  use  to  you;  but  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that,  morally  at  least,  he 
is  to  be  reckoned  among  the  lights  of  his  denomination.  I  doubt  whether 
there  has  been  a  minister  within  my  knowledge,  who  has  left  so  vivid  and 
durable  a  portraiture  of  his  moral  self  upon  the  hearts  of  his  people  as  he  did. 
His  parishioners,  who  were  old  enough  to  know  him,  speak  of  him  to  this  day 
with  hardly  less  emotion  than  if  he  had  died  yesterday.  The  Hon.  Leverett 
Saltonstall  always  visited  his  grave  on  the  anniversary  of  his  Funeral;  and, 
during  his  last  sickness,  as  he  lay  for  weeks  in  full  consciousness  of  his  ap- 
proaching dissolution,  he  was  perpetually  talking  of  his  early  friend  and 
Pastor,  and  his  face  would  always  assume  a  peculiar  glow  when  he  spoke  of 
reunion  with  him  in  Heaven.  And  this  is  only  a  specimen  of  the  peculiar  in- 
timacy of  feeling  which  those  who  knew  him,  and  had  any  religious  sym- 
pathy with  him,  still  cherish  for  and  with  him.  My  onlj^  remembrance  of 
him  is  his  performing  the  service  of  Baptism  in  his  uncle's  church  in  Beverlj''. 
His  countenance  and  manner  in  that  service  are  as  vividly  before  my  mind's 
eye,  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday.  I  was  a  very  young  child;  and  somehow  the 
scene  attached  itself,  in  my  young  imagination,  to  the  blessing  of  the  little 
children  by  our  Saviour;  and  to  this  day  I  never  read  or  tliink  of  that  narra- 
tive, without  that  baptismal  scene  coming  up  afresh  to  mj'^  mind.  Every  body 
that  ever  saw  him,  will  give  you  some  such  reminiscence  of  him;  and  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  it  has  been  given  to  very  few  men  to  bear  about,  in 
countenance  and  manner,  so  much  that  was  unearthly  and  morally  beautiful 
as  he  did.  In  haste,  sincerely  and  affectionately  yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 


HENRY  WARE,  Jr.,  D.  D.^ 

1815—1843. 

Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  was  born  at  Hingham,  IMass.,  April  21,  1794.  He 
was  a  descendant,  in  the  fifth  generation,  of  Robert  Ware,  who  came  over 
from  England  among  the  earlier  settlers  of  the  Colony,  and  fixed  himself 
at  Dedliam,  about  the  year  1644,  His  father  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Henry 
Ware,  who  was,  for  many  years.  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Hingham, 
and  afterwards  became  Hollis  Professor  of  Divinity  in  Harvard  College. 
His  mother  was  Mary,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Jonas  Clark,  of  Lexington. 
Henry  was  the  fifth  child  and  the  oldest  son  of  his  parents.  As  a  boy, 
he  was  thoughtful  and  quiet,  and  somewhat  lacking  in  bodily  activity.  He 
was  docile  in  his  temper  and  diligent  in  bis  studies,  but  was  far  from  any 
thing  like  intellectual  precocity.  As  has  frequently  happened,  he  very 
early  indicated  a  predilection  for  the  profession  which  he  afterwards  cliose. 
While  be  was  yet  a  mere  child,  he  preached  a  sermon  of  his  own  composi- 
tion from  a  cradle  turned  on  end  as  a  pulpit;  and  from  tliat  time  till  he 
appeared  in  a  veritable  pulpit,  it  is  believed  that  he  never  wavered  in  the 

•  Memoir  by  his  Brother,  Dr.  John  Ware. 


HENRY    WARE,    JUNIOR.  473 

purpose  to  devote  himself  to  the  miuistry.  In  harmony  witli  this  purpose, 
ami  as  if  preparatory  to  the  execution  of  it,  he  formed  a  very  early  habit 
of  composition  ;  aud  some  of  his  childisii  productions  still  remain  as  evi- 
dence of  the  serious  turn  of  his  mind,  and  his  unusual  facility  of  expression. 

He  had  the  rudiments  of  his  education  partly  at  home,  and  partly  in  the 
private  and  public  schools  of  his  native  town.  In  1804  and  1805  he  spent 
considerable  time  in  the  family,  and  under  the  tuition,  of  the  llev.  Dr. 
Allyn,  of  Duxbury.  Here,  it  is  believed,  he  commenced  his  preparation 
for  College  ;  but,  in  the  autumn  of  1805,  he  was  placed  under  the  tuition 
of  his  cousin,  Mr.  Ashur  Ware,  a  graduate  of  the  preceding  year,  who 
became,  at  the  same  time,  a  member  of  his  father's  family.  He  remained 
under  his  care  till  the  spring  of  1807,  when,  on  the  election  of  Mr.  Ware 
to  a  Tutorship,  Mr.  Samuel  Merrill,  of  the  class  of  1807,  took  his  place. 
In  September  of  the  same  year  he  was  sent  to  Phillips  Academy,  And. 
over,  of  which  Mr.  Mark  Newman  was  then  Preceptor  ;  and  here  he  con- 
tinued till  his  admission  as  a  member  of  the  Freshman  Class  in  Harvard 
College,  in  September,  1808. 

The  four  years  of  his  college  life  were  passed  in  his  father's  family,  and 
his  intercourse,  even  with  his  foUow-students,  beyond  what  was  absolutely 
necessary,  was  very  limited.  He  was  scrupulously  attentive  to  his  various 
college  duties,  but  was  not  a  hard  student,  and  held  not  much  more  than  a 
respectable  standing  in  his  class.  At  the  Commencement  in  1812,  when 
he  graduated,  he  delivered  a  Poem  on  the  Pursuit  of  Fame,  which  drew 
forth  strong  expressions  of  applause.  In  the  winter  of  his  Junior  year, 
he  taught  a  .school  for  several  months  in  Beverly,  where  he  was  brought  in 
contact  with  persons  of  different  religious  views  from  those  held  by  the 
friends  with  whom  he  had  always  been  associated.  The  consequence  was 
that  his  mind  became  somewhat  disturbed,  which  led  to  a  correspondence 
between  liim  and  his  father,  that  seems  to  have  resulted  in  the  removal  of 
his  difficulties. 

Immediately  after  leaving  College,  in  August,  1812,  he  became  Assist- 
ant Teacher  in  Phillips  Academy,  Exeter,  of  which  Dr.  Benjamiu  Abbot 
was  then  Principal.  Here  he  remained,  discharging  his  duties  as  a  teacher 
with  great  fidelity  and  success  for  two  years.  Meanwhile,  he  devoted 
much  of  his  leisure  to  the  study  of  Tlieology  ;  and,  during  the  latter  part 
of  the  time,  he  conducted  the  public  exercises  of  an  infant  Unitarian  Soci- 
ety in  Exeter,  by  performing  the  devotional  service  and  reading  a  printed 
sermon.  This  he  did  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  people  to  whom  he 
thus  ministered. 

In  August,  1814,  he  left  Exeter,  and  returned  to  Cambridge  to  complete 
his  theological  studies  as  a  resident  graduate  at  the  University.  He 
accepted  now  the  place  of  Sub-Librarian  of  the  College,  and  held  it  for  one 
year.  In  connection  with  his  strictly  professional  studies,  he  indulged  his 
taste,  to  a  considerable  extent,  for  general  reading,  and  occasionally  wrote 
poetry.  In  the  winter  of  1815  he  delivered  a  Poem  at  a  Public  Celebra- 
tion, in  Cambridge,  of  the  Treaty  of  Peace  concluded  with  Great  Britain, 
and  in  August,  1816,  the  Annual  Poem  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Soci- 
ety. Both  these  performances  were  received  with  much  more  than  ordi- 
nary favour. 


474  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

He  received  Lis  certificate  of  approbation  as  a  Preacher  on  the  31  «t  of 
July,  1815.  A  few  months  before  he  began  to  preach,  he  coniniitted  to 
writing  several  paragraphs  of  birtliday  reflections,  exhibiting  a  deeply  seri- 
ous spirit,  and  concluding  as  f(dlows :  — 

"  I  pray  tiiat  I  nia\-  be  prepared  fur  aiij'  event,  and  equally  glorify  God  in  my  life  or 
in  my  deatli.  If  God  please,  I  would  that  my  days  miglit  be  prolonged;  Cor  I  ear- 
nestly desire  to  be  better  jirepared,  and  tube  the  instrument  of  some  good  in  tlie  world 
before  I  leave  it.  I  wish  I  might  not  merely  ))ass  over  a  few  years  of  time,  and  leave 
no  trace  of  good;  but  I  would  do  something  for  the  cause  of  virtue  and  the  happiness 
of  man;  so  that,  when  I  shall  be  called  to  another  state,  I  may  meet  some  who  shall 
greet  me  with  love  and  gratitude,  and  siiall  receive  the  approbation  of  my  Saviour  and 
my  God. 

"  But.  Great  God,  thy  will  be  done.  I  am  in  thy  hands;  may  I  acquiesce  in  thine 
appointments.  Whatever  time  thou  shalt  allot  me,  may  1  well  improve  it,  and  culti- 
vate the  jjowers  thou  hast  given  me.  ]\lay  I  ever  fix  my  eye  upon  thee,  and  upon 
duty,  and,  through  thy  grace  in  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord,  become  such  as  thou  wilt 
delight  to  own  and  to  bless.  Oh,  forgive  my  past  follies;  help  me  in  time  tu  eome; 
delight  to  bless  me;  and  finally  grant  me  to  see  thy  presence  and  glory  in  peace, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  thy  love,  the  Saviour  of  men." 

Mr.  Ware's  first  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was  on  the  8th  of  October, 
more  than  two  months  from  the  date  of  his  examination  ;  and  then  he 
preached  at  West  Cambridge,  in  the  pulpit  of  the  llev.  Dr.  Tliaddeus 
Fiske,  a  classmate,  friend,  and  bruther-in-law  of  his  father.  In  February 
following  he  was  employed  four  Sabbaths  at  the  Second  Church  in  Boston, 
then  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lathrop  ;  in  April,  four  at  Lex- 
ington ;  in  May,  four  at  the  Church  in  Brattle  Square,  Boston  ;  and  in 
September,  three  at  Charlestown.  His  first  efforts  in  the  pulpit,  though  not 
otherwise  than  acceptable,  did  not  produce  any  very  stroiiir  impression. 
This  accounts  for  the  fact  that  a  long  interval  elapsed  between  his  first  and 
second  etigageinents  to  preach  in  the  church  of  which  he  afterwards  became 
the  Pastor.  As  already  mentioned,  he  ])reached  in  the  Second  Church  in 
Boston  as  early  as  February,  1816;  but  he  was  not  invited  the  second  time 
till  the  following  October.  An  invitation  was  given  him  to  become  the 
Pastor  of  the  Church  in  November,  but  it  was  not  unanimous,  though  the 
opposition  was  not  so  serious  as  to  prevent  his  accepting  it.  He  did  accept 
it,  and  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  first  day  of  the  year  1817, — the 
Ordination  Sermon  being  preached  by  his  father.  The  congregation  of 
which  he  became  Pastor  was.  at  this  time,  the  smallest  in  point  of  num. 
bers,  and  probably  the  least  opulent,  of  the  Unitarian  congregations  in 
Boston — he  seems,  however,  to  hnve  been  well  satisfied  with  it,  and  to  have 
found  his  situation,  in  many  respects,  a  desirable  and  happy  one. 

In  October,  1817,  iMr.  Ware  was  married  to  Elizabeth  Watson,  daugh- 
ter of  Dr.  Benjamin  Waterhouse,  of  Cambridge, —  a  lady  with  whom  he 
had  been  intimately  acquainted  from  childhood,  and  for  whom  he  had,  for 
many  years,  entertained  a  warm  regard. 

In  December,  1818,  he  travelled  South  as  far  as  Washington,  partly 
with  a  view  of  improving  his  health,  and  partly  for  the  purpose  of  preach- 
ing for  a  new  Unitarian  Society,  which  had  been  recently  established  in 
Baltimore.  On  his  way  thither,  he  preached  one  Sabbath  in  New  York, 
where,  however,  there  was  then  no  regularly  organized  Society,  and  once  in 
Philadelphia.     In  Baltimore  he  remained  three  weeks. 

In  March,  1819,  commenced  the  second  series  of  the  Christian  Disciple, 
—  a  work  which  had  been  in  existence  several  years,  under  the  editorial 


HENRY    WARE,    JUNIOR.  475 

supervision  of  Dr.  Noah  Worcester,  but  wliicli  now  became  more  distinct- 
ively tlie  organ  of  the  Uuitariuii  Botly.  Of  this  work  Mr.  Ware  became 
the  editor,  ami  htl<]  the  place  till  the  close  of  1822. 

Ill  the  autumn  of  1819  a  small  Unitarian  Society  was  incorporated  in 
New  York;  and,  in  the  spring  of  1820,  Mr.  Ware  laid  the  corner  stone  of 
their  new  church  edifice.  On  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  he  attended 
Dr.  McLeod's  church,  and  heard  from  him  a  sermon  on  the  Three  Heav- 
enly Witnesses  —  1  John,  V.  7.  As  Mr.  Ware  regarded  the  Discourse  an 
attack  upon  the  new  Unitarian  enterprise,  he  addressed  Two  Letters  to 
Dr.  MuLeod  through  the  press,  in  the  course  of  the  following  week, 
designed  to  prove  that  the  text  of  his  discourse  was  not  a  genuine  portion 
of  the  word  of  God.  These  Letters  he  sent  to  the  Doctor  with  a  note, 
to  whieli  he  received  a  courteous  but  very  honest  an<l  decided  reply. 

On  the  separation  of  the  District  of  JNLiine,  as  it  was  formerly  called, 
from  the  old  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  and  its  erection  into  a  dis- 
tinct State,  in  1820,  a  Convention  was  called  for  the  purpose  of  consider- 
ing whether,  in  consequence  of  this  event,  any  amendment  of  the  Constitu- 
tion was  necessary.  Mr.  Ware  was  chosen  a  delegate  to  the  Convention 
from  the  town  of  Boston  ;  but,  though  he  attended  punctually,  he  was  little 
more  than  a  listener  to  the  debates. 

In  November,  1822,  IMr.  Ware  projected  a  series  of  religious  services 
on  Sunday  evenings  for  the  special  benefit  of  the  poorer  classes.  The  plan 
was  carried  into  effect,  with  the  co-operation  of  several  other  of  the  minis- 
ters of  Boston,  and  by  the  assistance  of  the  Association  (then  recently 
formed)  for  Mutual  Religious  Improvement.  This  arrangement,  how- 
ever, was  ultimatcdy  !:.uperseded  by  the  establishment  of  the  Ministry  at 
Large,  under  the  immediate  direction  of  Dr.  Tuekerraan.  Mr.  Ware's 
personal  connection  with  this  Ministry  did  not  extend  beyond  the  spring  of 
1828  ;  though  his  interest  in  it  continued,  without  any  abatement,  till  the 
close  of  his  life. 

In  March,  1823,  Mr.  Ware  suffered  a  severe  affliction  in  the  death  of 
his  youngest  child.  But  a  still  heavier  trial  awaited  him.  His  wife, 
whose  health  was,  at  that  time,  delicate,  was  soon  found  to  be  in  a  decline, 
and,  in  spite  of  all  that  medical  skill  could  do,  she  went  rapidly  down  to 
the  grave.  She  died  on  the  8th  of  February,  1824,  at  the  age  of  thirty, 
leaving  him  in  charge  of  two  children,  at  an  age  peculiarly  requiring  a 
mother's  care.      One  had  already  died  in  infancy. 

In  1826  a  new  Unitarian  Society  was  formed  in  New  York,  and,  shortly 
after  the  Dedication  of  the  new  Church  edifice,  Mr.  Ware  received  an  invi- 
tation to  become  its  Pastor.  But,  though  there  were  many  circumstances 
that  seemed  to  favour  his  making  the  proposed  change,  he  was  satisfied, 
after  mature  deliberation,  that  he  had  better  remain  with  his  charge  in 
Boston  —  and  so  he  declined  the  call. 

In  June,  1827,  he  was  married  to  Mary  Lovell,  daughter  of  Mark  Pick- 
ard,  formerly  a  merchant  in  Boston  ;  whereupon  he  gathered  his  children, 
who  had  been  living  in  the  families  of  his  sisters,  once  more  around  his  own 
hearth. 

About  the  close  of  May,  1828,  Mr.  Ware  left  home  in  order  to  fulfil  an 
engagement  to   preach   at    Northampton.      In    consequence    of  excessive 


476  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

fatigue  and  exposure,  lie  was  quite  ill  on  his  arrival  there,  but  still  per- 
formed the  usual  services  on  the  Sabbath.  The  next  day,  he  set  out  to 
return  to  Boston,  but  when  he  reached  the  rhanufacturing  village  of  Ware, 
found  himself  so  seriously  indisposed  that  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  the 
idea  of  proceeding  on  his  journey.  Among  other  dangerous  symptoms 
attending  his  case  was  a  pretty  copious  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  lifter 
about  a  fortnight,  he  was  able,  not  without  considerable  difficulty,  to  be 
taken  to  Worcester,  where  he  remained  in  a  gradually  convalescent  state 
for  six  weeks.  About  this  time,  a  plan  for  establishing  a  Professorship  of 
Pulpit  Eloquence  and  the  Pastoral  Care,  in  the  Divinity  School  at  Cam- 
bridge, was  carried  into  effect.  The  friends  of  the  enterprise  had  their 
thoughts  directed  to  Mr.  Ware  as  a  suitable  person  to  fill  this  place;  and 
the  precarious  state  of  his  health  seemed  to  render  it  desirable  that  he 
should  be  relieved  from  the  exhausting  labours  demanded  by  a  pastoral 
charge.  Indeed,  he  himself  became  satisfied,  irrespective  of  the  proposed 
appointment,  that  he  had  too  little  vigour  of  constitution  left,  to  meet  the 
active  duties  of  the  ministry  ;  and,  accordingly,  about  the  close  of  Decem- 
ber, 1828,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  the  members  of  his  church  and  congre- 
gation, tendering  the  resignation  of  his  pastoral  charge.  They  refused, 
however,  to  accept  it,  and,  in  a  manner  highly  creditable  to  their  generous 
consideration,  proposed  that  he  should  still  retain  the  pastoral  relation,  and 
that  they  would  provide  him  a  colleague,  on  whom  should  devolve  the  bur- 
den of  active  pastoral  duty.  He  responded  affirmatively  and  most  affec- 
tionately to  their  generous  proposal;  and,  accordingly,  on  the  11th  of 
January,  1829,  Mr.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  who  had,  for  some  time,  sup- 
plied their  pulpit  with  much  acceptance,  was  elected  Colleague  Pastor,  and, 
on  the  11th  of  March  following,  was  ordained. 

By  this  time  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Ware  to  the  Professorship  at  Cam- 
bridge had  been  formally  made  and  accepted  ;  but  so  much  was  he  reduced 
in  health  that,  before  attenjpting  to  enter  upon  its  duties,  he  resolved  to 
try  the  effect  of  a  transatlantic  tour.  Af»cordingly  he  sailed  with  his 
wife,  in  the  Ship  Dover,  on  the  1st  of  April,  and  remained  abroad  nearly 
seventeen  months,  returning  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  1830.  During 
his  absence,  he  visited  England,  Holland,  Italy,  Switzerland  and  France, 
spending  the  winter  in  Rome.  Though  he  saw  much  to  gratify  his  curi- 
osity, and  made  many  acquaintances  in  which  he  was  deeply  interested,  he 
did  not  experience  the  invigorating  effect  upon  his  health  which  he  had 
expected,  until  about  the  time  that  he  reached  home.  Then  commenced  a 
decided  improvement,  which  encouraged  the  hope  that  his  health  would  at 
least  be  so  far  restored  as  to  render  him  competent  to  the  labours  of  his 
new  office. 

Shortly  after  his  return,  Mr.  Ware  renewed  his  request  for  a  dismission 
from  his  parish,  and  his  reasons  for  it  were  so  strong  that  they  could  not 
be  resisted  ;  though  the  separation  did  not  take  place  without  mutual  regret, 
and  the  strongest  mutual  expressions  of  good-will.  In  October,  a  few  weeks 
after  his  return  to  this  country,  he  removed  to  Cambridge,  and  entered 
upon  the  duties  of  his  Professorship. 

Mr.  Ware  was  honoured  with  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  from  his 
Alma  Mater,  in  1834. 


HENRY   WARE,    JUNIOR.  477 

Notwithstanding  he  entered  on  his  Professorship  with  greatly  improved 
prospects  in  respect  to  health,  he  was  subject  to  frequent  and  sometimes 
protracted  interruptions  of  his  labours  from  severe  illness.  Early  in  the 
year  183G  ho  was  attacked  by  a  violent  disease,  from  which  he  had  a 
strong  presentiment  tliat  he  should  not  recover.  During  this  period  of 
confinement,  npparently  as  the  direct  consequence  of  reading  a  newspaper 
in  bed,  while  his  wife  was  out  of  the  room,  he  began  to  suffer  from  a  pain- 
ful aflFection  of  the  eyes,  which  obliged  him  to  depend  entirely  on  others 
for  reading  and  writing.  He,  accordingly,  dictated  to  his  wife,  or  wrote 
with  a  pencil  in  bed  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  in  this  way  produced  several 
beautiful  pieces  of  poetry.  This  affection  of  the  eyes  continued  for  more 
than  a  year,  during  which  period  all  his  preparations,  in  the  way  of  read- 
ing and  writing,  were  made  by  the  assistance  of  others,  and  his  exercises 
in  the  Divinity  School  and  his  preaching,  so  far  at  least  as  the  language 
was  concerned,  were  extemporaneous.  He  had,  for  several  years,  been 
cultivating  the  habit  of  extemporaneous  speaking,  in  accordance  with  his 
own  invaluable  "  Hints"  on  this  subject,  published  as  early  as  1824  ;  and 
now  he  experienced  the  benefit  of  this  habit  in  a  very  high  degree.  His 
eyes  never  regained  their  former  strength,  though  they  were  so  far  restored 
that  he  was  able  to  use  them  without  serious  inconvenience. 

In  the  autumn  of  1841  Dr.  Ware's  health  became  so  essentially  impaired 
that  it  was  with  no  small  difficulty  that  he  could  proceed  with  his  ordinary 
duties.  Notwithstanding  this,  however,  he  projected  a  journey  to  New 
York,  with  an  intention  also  of  going  to  Baltimore  and  Washington.  He 
arrived  in  New  York  on  the  13th  of  January,  and  preached  in  Dr.  Dewey's 
Church  twice  on  the  following  Sabbath.  On  the  next  Sabbath  (January 
23d)  he  entered  the  pulpit  for  the  last  time.  After  the  second  singing,  he 
was  obliged  to  tell  the  audience  that  he  was  too  much  indisposed  to  pro- 
ceed with  the  service,  and  immediately  dismissed  the  congregation.  He 
was  able  to  return  to  Cambridge  in  the  course  of  the  next  week  ;  but,  as 
he  found  himself  entirely  inadequate  to  the  duties  of  his  office,  and  felt 
the  importance  of  being  relieved  from  all  responsibility  in  respect  to  it,  he 
lost  no  time  in  sending  in  his  resignation  to  the  President.  In  accepting 
it,  the  Government  of  the  College,  as  an  expression  of  their  good-will  and 
high  appreciation  of  his  services,  voted  the  continuance  of  his  salary  for 
half  a  year  from  the  time  that  he  vacated  his  office. 

The  annual  visitation  of  the  Divinity  School,  which  occurs  at  the  close 
of  the  academic  year,  took  place  on  the  15th  of  July;  and,  immediately 
after  this,  he  removed  his  family  to  Framingham, — a  beautiful  town  about 
twenty  miles  from  Boston,  agreeably  to  an  arrangement  which  he  had  pre- 
viously made.  His  residence  here  was,  on  many  accounts,  very  agreeable, 
though  he  found  himself  burdened  with  leisure,  and,  even  in  his  great 
feebleness,  his  active  mind  was  teeming  with  plans  of  occupation.  About 
the  close  of  March,  1843,  he  went  to  Boston  on  a  visit,  chiefly  on  account 
of  the  better  opportunities  which  the  city  presented  at  that  season  for  out- 
door exercise.  For  a  few  days  after  his  arrival  he  seemed  cheerful,  con- 
versed with  interest  and  animation,  and  called  upon  several  of  his  friends  ; 
though  it  was  apparent  to  all  that  he  was  under  the  power  of  a  wasting 
malady.      On  the  10th  of  April  he  suffered  an  attack  nearly  allied  to 


478  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

apoplexy,  from  which,  however,  he  quickly  rallied;  and,  on  the  6th  of 
May,  he  was  seized  with  an  inflammatory  abdominal  aifection,  accompanied 
by  hemorrhage,  and  followed  by  great  prostration.  By  these  two  attacks 
he  was  cotifined  for  the  greater  part  of  ten  weeks,  and  was  not  able  to  leave 
Boston  until  the  5th  of  June.  He  subsequently  made  a  journey  to  Ply- 
mouth, Fall  River  and  Providence,  but  was  too  ill  to  enjoy  any  thing,  and 
returned  to  Framingham  after  about  a  week's  absence.  After  this,  he 
seemed  temporarily  better,  and  was  projecting  his  plans  for  future  occupa- 
tion and  usefulness,  wh^n  an  unfavourable  change  in  his  condition  suddenly 
took  place,  which  both  he  and  his  friends  recognized  as  the  harbinger  of 
his  departure.  At  one  time,  when  he  had  been  supposed  to  be  in  a  state 
approaching  unconsciousness,  he  remarked, — "  My  mind  is  crowded  with 
thoughts,  precious  thoughts  of  death  and  immortality."  To  a  near  friend, 
a  few  days  before  his  death,  he  said, — '•  3Iy  life  has  been  singularly  blessed. 
My  success  has  been  beyond  my  brightest  hopes.  But  my  work  is  done. 
I  am  going.  All  is  right.  All  is  well."  At  one  time,  when  his  mind  was 
verging  towards  delirium,  he  seemed  to  fancy  himself  to  be  about  to  ad- 
minister the  Communion,  and  called  all  his  family  about  him,  and  spoke  to 
them  in  words  like  those  with  which  he  was  accustomed  to  address  his  own 
flock  on  such  an  occasion.  On  the  21st  of  September  he  seemed  some- 
what revived,  and  evidently  noticed  with  interest  what  was  passing  around 
him.  But  as  his  wife  was  sitting  by  his  side,  she  observed  a  spasmodic 
movement  of  his  hand,  followed  by  a  slight  convulsion  of  his  body  —  and 
instantly  he  was  insensible.  His  eyes  closed,  a  profuse  perspiration 
covered  him,  his  breathing  soon  became  somewhat  laborious,  but  afterwards 
quiet  and  easy,  and,  at  half  past  six  on  the  morning  of  the  22d,  his  con- 
nection with  all  earthly  scenes  closed. 

His  body  was  removed  from  Framingham  to  Cambridge,  and  the  Funeral 
took  place  on  the  25th,  at  the  College  Chapel, —  the  services  being  per- 
formed by  the  Rev.  Br.  Parkman,  his  former  associate  in  the  ministry, 
and  the  Rev.  Drs.  Francis  and  Noyes,  the  Professors  in  the  Divinity  School. 
The  choir  of  the  Chapel  chanted  the  twenty-third  Psalm,  which  he  had  asked 
to  have  read  to  him  a  few  days  before  his  death,  and  which  was  the  last 
passage  of  Scripture  to  which  he  listened.  His  remains  were  followed  to 
Mount  Auburn,  and  deposited  in  a  sepulchre  which  had  been  presented  to 
him  by  his  friend,  Professor  Farrar,  of  which  he  was  the  first  tenant. 

Dr.  Ware  had  six  children  by  his  second  marriage,  making  nine  in  all. 
Three  of  his  sons  have  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  and  one  of  them 
[John  Fothergill  Waterhoiise)  is  a  Unitarian  clergyman.  The  second 
Mrs.  Ware  died  in  April,  1849. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Ware's  publications  : — 

A  Poem  on  occasion  of  the  Peace,  1815.  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Prentiss,  1817.  A  Sermon  before  the  Evangelical  Mis- 
sionary Society  in  Massachusetts,  1820.  Two  Letters  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Mc- 
Leod  on  1  John,  v.  7,  1820.  Two  Historical  Discourses  on  Completing  a 
Century,  1821.  Three  Important  Questions  answered,  1822.  A  Sermon 
preached  at  An)herst,  N.  H.,  1822.  An  Address  before  the  Massachusetts 
Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance,  1823.  Report  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Bible  Society,  1823.    Hints  on  Extemporaneous  Preaching,  1824. 


HENRY    WARE,    JUNIOR.  479 

Becollections  of  Jotliam  Anderson,  1824.  The  Vision  of  Liberty  :  A  Poem 
recited  before  the  Society  of  <I>.  B.  K.,  1824.  A  Sermon  at  tlie  Ordina- 
tion of  W.  H.  Furness,  Philadelphia,  1825.  Robert  Fowle,  1825.  Ser- 
mons on  the  Offices  and  Character  of  Jesus  Christ,  1825,  The  Faith  once 
delivered  to  the  Saints:  A  Tract  for  the  Unitarian  Association,  1825.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Unitarian  Church,  Northampton,  1825. 
A  Sermon  on  Small  Sins,  1827.  A  Sermon  on  the  Duty  of  Usefulness,  in 
the  Liberal  Preacher,  1828.  Reply  to  a  Gentleman's  Letter,  1828.  Ad- 
dress before  the  Kennebunk  Unitarian  Association,  1828,  A  Farewell 
Address  to  the  Second  Church  in  Boston,  1830.  An  Introductory  Ad- 
dress, delivered  at  Cambridge,  1830.  A  Sermon,  in  Beard's  Family  Ser- 
mons, on  Religious  Principles  and  Affections,  1830,  The  Formation  of 
Cliristiai;  Character,  1831.  A  Sermon  on  the  Duty  of  Improvement,  in 
the  Liberal  Preacher,  1831.  An  Introduction  to  the  Memoirs  of  Oberlin, 
1832,  An  Address  before  the  Cambridge  Temperance  Society,  1832.  An 
Outline  of  Scripture  Testimony  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  1832,  Life 
of  the  Saviour,  1833,  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Chandler  Rob- 
bins,  1833,  Preface  to  Mrs,  Farrar's  Life  of  Howard,  1833,  A  Sermon 
on  the  Promise  of  Universal  Peace,  1834,  Life  and  Character  of  Dr. 
Priestley,  1834.  A  Sermon  on  Faith,  in  the  Western  Messenger,  1834. 
Memoir  of  Nathan  Parker,  D.  D.,  1835.  Sober  Thoughts  on  the  State  of 
the  Times,  1835,  Annual  Address  delivered  before  the  Berry  Street  Con- 
ference, published  in  tlie  Christian  Examiner,  1835,  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  C,  A.  Bartol,  1837.  The  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  1837. 
Two  Discourses  at  the  Close  of  the  Academic  Year,  1837.  A  Tract  on 
Faith,  for  the  American  Unitarian  Association,  1837.  A  Sermon  on  the 
Duel  in  which  Jonathan  Cilley  was  killed,  1838.  A  Sermon  before  the 
Book  and  Pamphlet  Society,  1838.  A  Sermon  on  the  Personality  of  the 
Deity,  1838.  How  to  Spend  a  Day,  1839.  Art  of  Hearing,  1839.  David 
Ellington's  Subscription,  1839.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  R.  C. 
AVaterston,  1839.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  E,  H,  Sears,  Lancas- 
ter, 1840,  The  New  Year  :  Tract  for  the  American  Unitarian  Associa- 
tion, 1840.  How  are  the  Great  Evils  in  the  World  to  be  removed,  1840. 
Saturday  Evening  at  David  Ellington's,  1840,  A  Sunday's  Walk  with 
David  Ellington,  1840,  A  Sermon  on  the  Moral  Principle  of  the  Tem- 
perance  Movements,  published  in  the  Christian  Examiner,  1841, 

In  addition  to  the  above,  he  furnished  upwards  of  one  hundred  articles 
in  the  different  religious  newspapers  and  periodicals  of  the  day. 

FROM  THE  REV,  EDWARD  B,  HALL.  D.  D. 

Providence,  August  6,  1849. 

Dear  Sir:  You  ask  me  to  give  you  some  of  my  reminiscences  of  Henry 
Ware  Jr.,  or  some  familiar  illustrations  of  his  life  and  character.  I  cannot 
plead  any  want  of  material  for  such  a  task,  still  less  any  unwillingnesj  to 
think  or  write  of  one  whose  memory  is  so  precious.  But  it  is  not  easj^  to 
transfer  to  paper,  distinctly  and  impartially,  our  impressions  of  a  departed 
friend,  especially  when  that  friend  was  distinguished  by  uniform  and  unob- 
trusive worth,  and  when  the  chief  events  of  his  life,  and  the  prominent  traits 
if  his  character,  have  been  already  given  to  the  public. 

Among  the  characteristics  of  Henry  Ware  there  were   three,  which  none 


480  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATICWAL. 

familiar  with  him  could  fail  to  observe,  though  they  could  not  be  equally  known 
to  all.  These  were  his  love  of  work,  his  love  of  his  calling,  and  his  love  of 
promoting  and  witnessing  the  happiness  of  others. 

His  love  of  work  was  a  passion.  It  could  hardly  be  called  his  nature,  cer- 
tainly not  in  any  sense  that  would  make  it  merely  constitutional,  or  so  easy 
as  to  possess  no  merit.  That  he  took  to  himself  no  merit  on  account  of  it 
every  one  knew;  but  we  also  knew  that  it  cost  him  some  effort.  lie  always 
said  that  he  was  by  nature  indolent,  and  tempted  to  indulge  his  love  of  ease. 
This  appeared,  perhaps,  in  his  slowness  to  begin  an  arduous  woi'k,  and  his 
habit  of  deferring  much  of  his  work  till  a  late  hour.  And  yet  he  never  seemed 
idle,  and  never  failed  to  perform  that  which  he  had  promised,  or  whicli  could 
be  legarded  as  duty.  However  reluctantly  or  late  he  enteied  upon  any  task, 
the  moment  he  engaged  in  it  his  mind  kindled,  labour  became  pleasure,  and  he 
worked  on  to  the  end  with  a  devotion  and  love  equal  to  those  with  which  an 
exciting  and  absorbing  fiction  is  read  through  at  a  sitting.  For  tlws  love  of 
work  gave  him  a  facility,  and  the  facilit}'  again  increased  the  lovo,  so  that  he 
accomplished  more  in  a  given  time,  and  more  easily,  than  any  one  I  have 
known,  of  such  feeble  health  and  interrupted  efforts.  Seldom  was  he  wholly 
well,  and  never  wholly  unemployed.  In  his  sick  room  he  M'as  constantly  plan- 
ning, if  he  could  not  execute;  putting  his  plans  on  paper,  or  disclosing  them  to 
willing  ears;  interesting  and  instigating  others  to  work  with  him  or  for  him. 
For  this  again  he  was  remarkable, —  his  love  of  seeing  others  work,  and  his 
pain  to  see  Jiny  one  idle.  Nor  had  he  the  least  portion  of  that  small  sellish- 
ness,  which  would  monopolize  the  credit  or  withhold  the  advantage  of  its  own 
thoughts  and  plans  for  the  good  of  others;  and,  provided  they  could  be  car- 
ried into  effect,  he  cared  not  by  whom,  nor  would  insist  that  it  should  be  done 
in  his  own  way.  Far  from  him  was  the  poor  ambition  of  appearing  the  origi- 
nator of  the  scheme,  and  the  poor  prejudice  of  restricting  all  good  to  a  form  or 
name.  His  love  of  labour  was  generous  as  well  as  ardent.  In  this,  as  in  every 
thing,  he  seemed  as  forgetful  of  self  as  is  possible  to  our  nature.  Riding  on 
horseback  for  health,  he  was  still  at  work.  Resting  at  noon  or  night  at  an 
inn,  he  sought  a  place  where  he  could  work,  not  only  as  a  reader  or  thinker, 
but  a  writer,  and  sometimes  in  works  of  grave  character,  requiring  method 
and  great  carefulness.  Thus  his  well  known  work  on  the  «'  Formation  of 
Christian  Character  "  was  planned  and  executed,  as  he  tells  us  in  the  Preface, 
in  '<  some  of  the  languid  hours  of  a  weary  convalescence,"  upon  "journeys 
and  in  public  houses." 

As  an  aid  to  this  love  and  habit  of  labour,  he  possessed  a  singular  power  of 
abstraction  and  concentration  of  mind,  independent  of  circumstances.  No 
particular  time  or  place,  no  solitude  or  quiet  without,  was  essential  to  the 
working  of  his  mind  or  pen.  He  loved  to  write  in  his  parlour  or  nursery,  sur- 
rounded with  prattlers  and  meddlers.  He  seemed  often  to  be  helped  rather 
than  hindered  by  the  climbing  of  a  child  on  his  chair  or  into  his  lap,  nor  did 
it  trouble  him  if  some  other  niark  than  his  own  appeared  on  the  paper.  He 
could  write  also  away  from  home,  in  another  man's  study  or  without  a  studj', 
as  some  men  think  they  cannot.  Well  do  I  remember,  one  Saturday  niglit 
in  my  early  acquaintance  with  my  brother  Ware,  how  he  amazed  me  by  the 
pase  and  rapidity  and  zest  with  which  he  worked,  when  any  one  else  would 
have  thought  it  an  act  of  supererogation  and  severe  labour.  He  had  come  to 
jireach  for  me  with  a  supply  of  sermons.  But  as  we  conversed  late  in  the 
evening,  I  expressed  a  wish  to  hear  him,  at  some  time,  on  a  particular  theme. 
Instantly  he  seized  a  pen  and  began  to  write.  We  talked,  and  he  wrote  on, 
in  short  hand,  but  full  sense  and  complete  method;  he  wrote  on  until  he  had 
finished  an  entire  sermon,  which  he  preached  the  next  morning. 

With  his  love  of  work  may  be  named  his  love  of  the  special  work  which  he 


HENRY    WARE,    JUNIOR.  481 

made  tlie  calling  and  business  of  his  life.  Few  men  have  been  so  devoted 
ministers  without  being  exclusive  ministers,  as  Henry  Ware.  1  say,  without 
being  exclusive, —  and  I  mean,  of  course,  exclusively  and  only  a  minister. 
No  man  worked  more  for  other  objects,  for  all  indeed  in  any  way  relating  to 
the  ministry.  Every  high  and  worthy  cause  engaged  his  interest,  and  received 
a  share  of  liis  time;  but  never  to  the  forgetfulness  of  his  calling  or  to  the  neg- 
lect of  one  of  its  duties.  For  Peace,  Temperance,  Freedom,  Cliarity,  Educa- 
tion, Tlieology,  the  diffusion  of  the  Scriptures,  the  influence  and  elevation  of 
the  Lecture-room,  he  wrote,  spoke  and  laboured.  But  no  one,  I  venture  to 
say,  connected  him  exclusively  with  either  of  these,  or  supposed  him  to  forget, 
for  a  moment,  or  ever  lay  aside,  the  character  of  the  minister.  The  temper 
of  the  minister,  the  design  of  the  Gospel,  he  blended  with  every  other  work, 
showing  their  mutual  relation  and  aiming  to  promote  a  reciprocal  influence. 
But  he  gave  himself  first  and  most  to  the  direct  work  of  the  ministry  itself; 
and,  whether  as  a  preacher  or  the  teacher  and  helper  of  preachers,  he  allowed 
no  other  object  to  come  in  competition  with  this.  To  it  he  gave  the  best  ser- 
vice of  all  his  powers  through  all  his  life.  In  talking,  reading,  journeying 
or  resting,  in  health  and  sickness,  even  in  the  failure  of  nature  and  the  last 
efforts  of  an  exhausted  frame,  his  heart  turned  to  this;  and  his  thoughts  and 
prayers  were  given  to  it  when  he  had  nothing  else  to  give.  Going  into  his  room 
after  his  first  serious  attack  of  that  di.sease  of  the  brain  of  which  lie  died,  I 
found  him  more  earnest  than  ever  in  behalf  of  professional  plans,  and  a  relig- 
ious enterprise  which  had  long  occupied  his  mind,  and  which  he  could  not 
bear  to  abandon.  The  springs  of  life  had  been  touched,  the  silver  cord  was 
loosed,  but  the  spirit  was  strong;  and  deeply  affecting  was  it  to  see  him  revive- 
at  the  very  mention  or  thought  of  his  work,  kindling  as  he  spoke,  seeming  as- 
if  he  would  expire  in  the  effort,  pouring  out  the  fervour  of  his  struggling  souL 
in  behalf  of  the  cause  for  which  he  had  lived,  and  for  which  alone  he  asked, 
still  to  live  and  labour.  It  was  his  life,  and  it  never  ceased  but  with  life;  or.- 
rather  ceased  not  at  all,  but  only  changed  its  sphere. 

Both  these  traits  which  I  have  named  were  connected  with  another  —  at. 
least,  they  came  in  aid  of  another, —  his  love  of  witnessing  and  promoting, 
the  happiness  of  those  about  him.  With  all  his  infirmity  and  occasional  de- 
pression from  disease,  with  all  his  moderation,  and,  as  some  thought,  cold- 
ness, of  manner,  there  was  a  warmth  within,  a  heartiness  of  interest  often, 
expressed,  and  a  variety  of  effort  perfectly  genial  and  delightful.  lie  seemed, 
never  too  busy  or  abstracted  to  think  of  others,  or  to  plan  and  provide  forr- 
their  enjoyment.  With  a  load  of  work  and  care  always  upon  him,  he  would, 
throw  off  all  for  domestic  recreation  or  a  frolic  with  children.  For  the  youiig. 
his  sympathies  and  powers  of  every  kind  were  ever  ready;  especially  his 
power  of  invention,  imagination  and  extempore  execution.  The  quick  rhyme, 
the  droll  story,  the  laughable  fancy,  the  ingenious  riddle,  the  clialdish  sang 
or  sport  invented  at  the  moment,  and  shared  by  himself  and  all  the  grown 
people  as  well  as  children  he  could  enlist,  were  among  the  lighter  but  not  use- 
less ways  in  which  he  sought  to  promote  the  happiness  of  family  and  friends.. 
Nor  in  all  this  was  there  the  slightest  approach  to  unbecoming  levity  or  hurt- 
ful liberty.  Well  might  that  be  called  the  "  happy  medium  "  which  he  ob- 
served;  happy  in  its  avoidance  of  all  extreme   or   questionable  modes,  and 

also  in  its  tendency  to  secure  the  rational  enjoyment  and  activity  which  are 
necessary  for  the  young.  It  was  beautiful  to  see  how  completely  the  respect 
and  reverence  of  the  young  were  retained  and  even  promoted  with  all  this  free- 
dom. They  might  forget  his  office  for  the  moment,  but  they  could  never  forget 
his  goodness,  his  dignity  of  character,  or  his  inviolable  regard  for  all  proprie- 
ties and  the  strictest  purity.  An  impure  or  improper  word  I  believe  no  one 
would  have  dared,  and  what  is  more  and  better,  no  one  would  have  desired,  to- 

Vol.  VIII.  31 


482  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

utter  in  his  presence.  And  all  appeared  to  feel  that  his  own  happiness  and 
power  of  promoting  theirs,  that  this  very  freedom  and  hilarity,  came  from 
the  strength  of  a  religious  principle  and  feeling  which  was  part  of  himself. 
And  beautifuU}'  did  this  appear  in  connection  with  children  and  with  pleasant 
exercises.  Some  of  the  Thanksgiving  hymns  and  little  poems  that  he  wrote, 
were  full  of  the  spirit  of  devotion,  yet  suggestive  and  promotive  of  the  freest 
enjoyment.  With  young  or  old  he  could  not  give  to  religion  a  forbidding 
aspect  or  harsh  voice.  Mingle  religion  with  every  thing,  let  everything  be 
moderated  and  hallowed,  but  nothing  clouded  or  chilled  by  its  presence.  Let 
not  even  the  presence  or  thought  of  death  make  you  gloomy  or  wretched. 
This  was  the  language  of  his  own  demeanour  and  character,  at  all  times  and  in 
every  scene.  Very  near  to  him  did  death  come  repeatedly  in  the  removal  of 
others,  and  gradually,  but  visibly  and  surely,  in  its  approach  to  himself.  But 
no  gloom,  no  fear,  no  change  of  deportment  or  hushing  of  life's  music,  did  he 
exhibit  or  desire.  When  a  beloved  child  died,  I  stood  with  him  and  the  serene 
mother,  watching  the  departure  of  the  spirit;  and  then  almost  unconsciously 
we  knelt  by  the  couch,  and  the  tranquil  silence  was  only  broken  by  the  low, 
tremulous,  rising  and  thrilling  words  of  prayer,  which  came  from  the  bowed 
submissive  father;  and  when  those  words  ceased,  the  mother  was  found  to  be 
insensible,  not  from  agony  but  from  exhaustion  and  suppressed  emotion. 
And  now  that  this  noble  woman  has  gone  also  to  join  her  husband  and  their 
children  in  other  scenes,  I  feel  free  to  allude  to  two  facts,  illustrative  of  the 
strong  religious  feelings  of  both  of  them.  Ilis  own  death  occurred  in  the  end 
of  the  week,  so  that  the  body  remained  in  the  house  at  Framingham  over  the 
Sabbath.  The  wife  and  mother,  instead  of  making  the  day  a  constrained  and 
gloomy  one  to  the  children  and  helpers  in  a  darkened  home,  still  less  willing 
to  profane  the  day  and  the  occasion,  as  is  often  done,  by  the  busy  hum  of 
preparation  for  outside  mourning,  took  her  family  with  her  to  the  quiet  vil- 
lage church,  and,  with  no  unusual  demonstrations,  joined  in  the  customary 
worship;  believing  that  no  observance  would  be  more  acceptable  to  God,  or 
more  in  union  with  the  spirit  and  present  employment  of  him  who  had  so 
often  led  them  to  the  temple  and  the  altar.  Again  —  it  had  been  his  custom 
always,  at  the  close  of  the  Sabbath,  to  gather  his  children  around  him,  hear 
each  one  of  them  repeat  some  hymn  or  sacred  verse  that  they  had  learned 
during  the  day,  tell  tiiem  in  his  own  words  some  interesting  Scripture  story, 
or  question  them  about  that  which  tliey  had  heard,  then  lead  them  in  singing, 
hands  all  joined,  and  voices  all  blending,  their  sweet  Sabbath  hymn.  This 
beautiful  custom  was  never  suifered  to  cease  in  that  home.  When  the  father 
■had  gone,  the  mother  took  it  up,  and  continued  it  in  all  places  and  circum- 
stances, alone  or  in  the  presence  of  friends,  in  health  or  sickness,  even  through 
her  own  painful  and  fatal  sickness,  not  omitting  it,  I  believe  a  single  Sabbath, 
to  the  last  of  her  own  on  earth.  Never  have  I  been  more  deeply  impressed 
or  bound  more  in  love  to  religion,  than  by  some  of  those  simple  and  beautiful 
services.  They  will  always  help  to  keep  distinct  and  glowing,  in  the  heart's 
memory,  the  image  of  Henry  and  Mary  Ware. 

With  respect  and  regard. 

Yours  in  Christian  bonds. 

EDWARD  B.  HALL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  WILLARD,  D.  D. 

Deerfield,  January  13,  1850. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  personal  acquaintance  with  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  may  be  said 
to  have  begun  about  the  time  of  his  Ordination,  though  I  had  sometimes  seen 
him  in  former  years  at  his  father's  table,  or  in  other  circumstances  which  did 


HENRY   WARE,    JUNIOR.  483 

not  display  his  character.  My  acquaintance,  which  afterward  became  inti- 
mate, continued,  as  circumstances  favoured,  to  the  close  of  his  life.  Soon  after 
his  Ordination,  while  visiting  in  Boston,  I  was  invited  to  attend  a  meeting  of 
several  gentlemen  who  had  undertaken  jointly  to  edit  the  Christian  Disciple, 
and  who  came  together  for  the  purpose  of  determining  the  contents  of  the  next 
number;  and  I  was  much  surprised  and  impressed  by  the  manifestation  of 
two  characteristics  in  Mr.  Ware — those  of  prompt  decision  and  great  candour, 
which  are  seldom  united  in  the  same  person.  He  had  a  penetrating  and  com- 
prehensive mind,  and  was  so  familiar  with  the  great  principles  of  judgment 
and  action  that  it  required  little  time  for  him  to  determine  what  was  right  and 
true  in  regard  to  subjects  analogous  to  those  on  which  he  would  often  be  called 
to  act  or  judge.  This  prompt  decision,  which  was  a  conspicuous  trait  in  his 
character  through  the  residue  of  life,  expressed  itself  in  words.  It  was  per- 
fectly frank  and  unreserved.  At  the  same  time,  it  was  combined  with  an 
exemplary  candour.  He  was  ready  to  hear  M'hat  might  be  said  against  his 
opinions,  and  to  throw  the  doors  of  his  mind  wide  open  to  any  new  evidence 
which  might  be  offered,  and  especially  to  the  evidence  of  fair  experiment. 
An  anecdote  will  illustrate  this  extraordinary  trait. 

An  acquaintance  of  his,  who  was  endeavouring  to  introduce  into  our 
churches  such  a  modification  of  Psalmody  as  would  secure  a  coincidence  of 
the  poetic  and  musical  emphasis,  by  preserving  the  same  rhythms  in  all  the  suc- 
cessive stanzas  of  each  hymn,  called  on  him  with  some  of  his  compositions. 
Mr.  Ware  promptly  told  him  he  had  not  much  fiiith  in  the  scheme.  The  author 
replied, — "  If  you  are  at  leisure.  Sir,  sit  down,  and  let  us  try  the  effect." 
After  singing  the  first  hj'mn  in  the  tune  for  which  it  was  composed,  Mr.  Ware 
says, — '<  I  like  that;"  and  he  liked  the  second  which  was  sung,  and  the  third, 
and  the  fourth,  and  in  one  hour  was  so  strongly  satisfied  of  the  practicability 
and  importance  of  the  scheme,  that  he  afterwards  gave  it  a  cordial  support  in 
more  than  one  review. 

Mr.  Ware  united,  in  his  temper  and  character,  a  remarkable  degree  of  seri- 
ousness with  occasional  humour,  which  might  be  pronounced  truly  attic.  Of 
this  playful  spirit  many  specimens  may  be  found  in  his  letters,  contained  in 
the  biography  published  by  his  brother.  Still,  this  humour  was  not  the  vital 
air  of  his  spirit,  but  only  the  amusement  of  an  exhausted  hour.  He  was 
deeplj^  impressed  with  the  great  object  of  life,  and  felt  that,  while  he  had 
power  to  work,  he  must  "  be  about  his  Father's  business."  From  the  account 
given  b}'  his  biographer,  it  appears  that,  even  in  his  childhood,  tiiere  were 
manifestations  of  seriousness  and  a  ministerial  tendency  much  like  those  of 
the  lamented  Buckminster. 

The  pulpit  exercises  of  Mr.  Ware  left  an  impression  on  my  mind  more  deep 
and  lasting  than  those  of  almost  any  other  man  v/hom  it  has  been  my  lot  to 
hear.  Tlie  first  time  I  ever  attended  on  his  preaching  was  in  my  own  pulpit, 
more  than  thirty  years  ago.  He  passed  the  Sabbath  with  me,  and  preached 
three  times.  One  of  his  texts  was  "  Felix  trembled;"  and  his  subject,  I 
think,  was  the  power  of  Paul's  preaching,  and  the  sources  of  that  power, 
which  appeared  to  me  happily  copied  in  his  own  sentiments,  and  the  manner 
by  which  they  were  enforced.  The  second  was  from  the  words, — "  Know, 
therefore,  and  see  that  it  is  an  evil  thing  and  bitter,  that  thou  hast  forsaken 
the  Lord  thy  God;"  in  which  he  showed,  in  a  heart-searching  manner,  the 
desolating  etlL-cts  of  sin  in  the  human  soul.  The  third  sermon  was  from  the 
words  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba  to  Solomon, — "The  half  was  not  told  me;"  and 
the  proposition  on  which  it  was  grounded  was  that  the  satisfaction  resulting 
from  true  religion,  in  the  heart  of  man,  surpassed  all  that  could  be  intelligi- 
bly described  to  any  one  who  had  not  enjoyed  the  blessed  experience.  I  have 
not  probably  retained  his  precise  language  in  any  of  these  statements,  but  the 


484  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

sentiments  are  so  vivid  in  my  recollection  that  I  am  confident  I  have  not  mis- 
stated them. 

It  would  be  an  interesting  inquiry,  what  gave  such  peculiar  impressiveness 
to  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Ware.  Doubtless,  the  foundation  was  laid  in  the 
momentous  sentiments  he  delivered;  but  the  same  sentiments  might  have  been 
uttered  by  most  others  with  very  little  of  the  same  effect.  The  simplicity  and 
directness  of  the  style  was  another  source  or  accompaniment  of  his  power  as 
a  Preacher;  but  these  things  were  not  all.  Ilis  utterance  was  peculiarly  con- 
vincing and  impressive;  yes,  convincing — for  it  manifested  the  deep  convictions 
of  his  own  mind.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  he  was  no  orator;  and  it  is  true 
he  was  not  an  orator  in  the  superficial  or  thoughtless  application  of  that  term. 
His  voice,  in  itself,  had  no  peculiar  charm.  It  was  not  remarkably  full,  nor 
smooth,  nor  grave,  nor  flexible;  but  he  spoke  from  the  inspiration  of  his  sub- 
ject, apparently  forgetful  of  himself,  and  perfectly  free  from  any  thing  artifi- 
cial or  affected,  as  well  as  from  the  trammels  of  school-boy  habits.  His 
emphases  were  always  on  the  right  words,  and  in  just  proportion  to  the 
importance  of  those  words  in  the  several  places  in  which  they  occurred.  In 
a  word,  his  utterance  was  the  same  natural  expression  of  thought  M'hich  he 
would  have  used  if  conversing  with  a  private  fiiend  on  the  same  interesting 
subjects.  This  appears  to  me  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  deep  impressions 
made  by  his  preaching  on  the  minds  of  those  who  had  any  regard  for  religious 
truth  or  dut}''.  I  ought,  however,  to  say  that  my  observations  must  be  lim- 
ited to  the  first  ten  years  of  his  public  ministrations,  for  it  was  never  my  lot 
to  hear  him  preach  after  that  period. 

The  influence  of  Dr.  Ware  on  the  clergy  in  general,  and  the  j^oung  preach- 
ers more  particularly,  who  were  in  fellowship  with  him,  was  greater,  perhaps, 
than  that  of  any  other  man,  unless  it  were  Dr.  Channing.  During  the  period 
of  controversy  which  followed  the  great  schism  which  took  place  among  the 
Congregational  ministers,  Unitarian  preaching  lost  much  of  its  practical  influ- 
ence and  spirituality.  This  was  deeply  lamented  by  Mr.  Ware,  and  he 
laboured  much  to  brijig  into  view,  and  keep  in  view,  the  higher  design  of 
Christianity, — that  of  subduing  in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  men  those  sins  which 
are  the  diseases,  if  not  the  death,  of  the  soul,  and  to  bring  them  to  the  state 
of  true,  disinterested  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  and  the  well-being  of 
mankind.  The  station  he  afterwards  filled  as  Professor  of  Pulpit  Eloquence 
and  Pastoral  Duty  in  the  Theological  School  at  Cambridge  gave  him  peculiar 
opportunities  for  stamping  his  own  simple  manners  on  his  pupils,  and  breath- 
ing into  them  his  own  serious  and  fervent  spirit;  and  the  influence  he  exerted 
was  doubtless  among  the  principal  causes  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place 
in  the  services  of  the  pulpit — a  change  which  we  have  reason  to  hope  will  not 
only  be  diffused  more  widely,  but  continue,  for  ages  to  come,  to  excite  in  the 
hearts  of  men  more  and  more  of  the  spirit  of  Jesus.  i 

I  am  very  sincerely  yours, 

SAMUEL  WILLARD. 


FRANCIS   WILLIAM    PITT    GREENWOOD.  485 


FRANCIS  WILLIAM  PITT  GREENWOOD,  D.  D. 

1817  —  1843. 

FROM  THOMAS  BULFINCH,  ESQ. 

Boston,  November  8,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  clieerfully  comply  with  your  request  for  some  account 
of  the  life,  and  some  estimate  of  the  character,  of  my  lamented  friend,  the 
late  Rev.  Dr.  Greenwood.  My  relations  to  him  first  as  a  classmate,  and 
afterwards  as  a  parishioner,  render  it  only  a  labour  of  love  for  nic  to  do 
any  thing  T  can  in  honour  of  his  memory. 

Francis  W.  P.  Greenwood  was  born  in  Boston,  February  5,  1797, 
and  was  the  son  of  Dr.  William  Pitt  Greenwood,  a  Dentist  by  profession, 
a  worthy  man  and  a  good  citizen,  whose  industry  and  discretion  were 
rewarded  by  a  fair  share  of  worldly  success.  The  mother  of  Francis 
(Mary  Langdon)  was  an  admirable  woman,  not  only  distinguished  for  the 
virtues  of  the  good  wife  and  mother,  but  possessing  moreover  literary  cul- 
tivation, taste  and  talent.  To  those  who  knew  iier  it  was  no  mystery  where 
her  son  obtained  his  style  of  writiiig,  so  full  of  indescribable  grace. 

Francis  was  fitted  for  College  at  the  Latin  School  in  Boston,  and  entered 
at  Harvard  in  1810,  being  then  but  thirteen  and  a  half  years  old.  His 
deportment  there  was  irreproachable,  and  his  rank  as  a  scholar  among  the 
first  third,  which,  in  a  class  of  sixty  competitors,  all  but  one  older  thaa 
himself,  was  not  discreditable.  But  his  peculiar  gifts  of  mind  were  not 
those  best  calculated  to  secure  rank  in  College.  Purity,  refinement,  love 
of  the  beautiful,  with  a  slight  tinge  of  melancholy,  were  liis  characteristics. 
He  sajig  sweetly,  and  his  talents  were  often  called  into  play  at  social  gath- 
erings of  his  classmates.  His  songs  were  all  pure  and  delicate,  such  as  his 
sisters  might  have  sung  to  their  piano,  rather  than  such  as  might  have 
been  expected  to  suit  college  youths,  whose  mirth  is  apt  to  lack  refinement. 
He  graduated  in  1814,  and,  during  the  next  three  years,  pursued  his  studies 
iu  Theology  at  Cambridge,  under  the  direction  of  the  elder  Dr.  Ware. 

He  received  approbation  to  preach  in  1817.  When  he  appeared  in  the 
pulpit,  the  impression  he  made  upon  the  public  mind  was  immediate  and 
higlily  favourable.  Then  those  talents,  which  had  been  but  of  little  account 
in  the  recitation  room,  shone  in  their  appropriate  sphere.  His  purity  of 
sentiment,  his  correctness  of  taste,  his  facility  of  diction,  were  set  forth 
with  gracefulness  of  elocution  and  melody  of  voice.  The  substance  of  his 
discourses  was  worthy  of  the  manner.  They  were  marked  by  clearness  of 
view,  beauty  of  illustration,  and  soundness  of  judgment.  They  were  not 
often  on  controverted  topics.  It  was  the  tender  and  emotional  part  of 
religion  that  his  mind  found  most  congenial  to  itself,  and  which  he  oftenest 
presented  to  his  hearers. 

On  the  21st  of  October,  1818,  he  was  ordained  minister  of  the  New 
South  Church  in  Boston,  as  successor  to  the  Bev,  Samuel  C.  Thacher. 
This  position  he  relinquished  in  December,  1820,  on  account  of  a  pulmonary 
attack  so  serious  as  to  induce  him  to  visit  Europe,  with  a  view  to  a  length- 


486  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ened  stay,  if  necessary.  He  returned  in  1821,  and,  for  the  benefit  of  a 
milder  climate  than  that  of  Boston,  resorted  to  Baltimore.  Here,  by  judi- 
cious care,  he  found  himself  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  preach  occa- 
sionally in  the  Unitarian  church,  then  under  the  charge  of  his  friend  Mr. 
Sparks  ;  and  after  Mr.  Sparks  had  resigned  his  charge,  he  occupied  his 
place  for  some  time  as  a  stated  supply.  He  wrote  frequently  for  the  Uni- 
tarian Miscellany,  and  for  nearly  two  years  was  its  editor. 

On  the  18th  of  May,  1824,  he  was  married  to  Maria  Goodwin,  daughter 
of  a  physician  in  Baltimore,  a  lady  of  congenial  qualities,  who  is  still  liv- 
ing. Of  five  children,  the  fruit  of  this  marriage,  three, —  a  son  and  two 
daughters,  survive. 

Mr.  Greenwood's  health  was  so  much  invigorated  as  to  permit  his  return 
to  Boston  in  1824.  He  soon  received  an  offer  of  settlement  at  King's 
Chapel,  Boston,  the  church  whore  his  parents  attended,  and  where  his 
earl}'  religious  vows  had  been  off"ered.  His  former  Society  also  desired  to 
renew  the  connection  ;  but  he  decided  in  favour  of  the  church  of  his  child- 
hood, and  was  duly  installed  August  29,  1824,  over  the  Church  of  King's 
Chapel,  as  colleague  of  the  llev.  Dr.  Freeman.  Mr.  Greenwood  himself 
preached  the  Sermon  on  the  occasion,  while  the  other  services  were  per- 
formed by  the  Senior  Pastor  and  the  Wardens  of  the  Church.  Here  he 
continued  to  labour  with  zeal,  talent  and  public  favour,  till  his  death  ia 
1843. 

For  twenty-five  years  he  discharged  the  duties  of  the  Christian  ministry 
devotedly  and  acceptably.  His  pulpit  services  were  fervent,  devotional, 
and  of  a  high  order  of  literary  merit.  He  was  faithful  to  the  calls  of  sick- 
ness and  sorrow,  as  well  as  to  those  of  the  Sunday  School  and  of  general 
education.  He  also  occasionally  contributed  to  the  literature  of  the  day  ; 
and  some  of  his  pieces,  such,  for  instance,  as  his  two  Essays,  "  The  Sea  " 
and  "  The  Religion  of  the  Sea,"  will  be  remembered  as  having  appeared 
in  Annuals  and  other  periodicals,  and  been  greeted  with  high  favour  by 
the  public.  They  were  collected  in  a  volume  of  Miscellanies  in  1S46.  Two 
volumes  of  "Discourses,"  and  another  entitled  "  Sermons  of  Consolation" 
still  hold  a  high  place  in  the  estimation  of  those  whose  religious  views  har- 
monize with  those  of  the  author.  I  have  lately  seen  a  fourth  edition  of 
the  last  named  volume  in  England. 

The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by  Harvard 
College  in  1839. 

Dr.  Greenwood's  writings  were  characterized  by  good  taste,  poetic  ima- 
gination and  graceful  style.  Add  to  these  traits  the  earnestness  of  devo- 
tional feeling  which  filled  the  preacher's  breast  and  pervaded  all  his  utter- 
ances, and  you  cannot  be  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  high  estimation  in 
•which  he  was  held  as  a  Christian  Preacher. 

I  should  not  omit  to  give  that  evidence  of  character  which  is  shown  in 
the  choice  of  amusements.  Dr.  Greenwood's  love  of  the  beautiful  found 
gratification  in  collecting  around  him  curious  and  tasteful  objects  of  art. 
But  more  still  the  beautiful  in  nature  had  charms  for  him.  He  became 
an  accomplished  Conchologist  and  a  practical  Botanist,  and  was  one  of  the 
first  to  engage  in  forming  a  Society  of  Natural  History  in  Boston,  which 
has  since  attained  a  distinguished  position  among  institutions  of  science. 


FRANCIS   WILLIAM   PITT    GREENWOOD.  487 

I  liave  mentioned  the  attack  of  pulmonary  disease,  which  compelled  him, 
early  in  life,  to  resign  for  a  time  his  professional  labours  and  visit  Europe 
for  the  recovery  of  las  health.  A  similar  attack  in  1837  sent  him  to  Cuba 
to  avoid  the  rigours  of  a  New  England  winter.  The  effect  of  these  attacks 
was  to  impress  his  mind  with  a  deep  sense  of  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  a 
conviction  that  in  his  case  it  could  not  be  long.  On  his  return  home  he 
sympathized  less  than  ever  in  the  critical  questionings  and  intellectual 
struggles  of  theologians.  Devotion  seemed  to  him  the  all  in  all  of  religion. 
If  he  was  capable  of  uncharitableness  to  any,  it  was  towards  those  who,  in 
their  freedom  of  discussion  of  sacred  themes,  seem  to  forget  how  inestimable 
a  treasure  they  are  dealing  with,  and  how  much  they  imperil  religion  itself 
in  their  endeavour  to  solve  questions  not  of  paramount  importance,  and 
perliaps  not  capable  of  solution  by  mortal  faculties. 

The  last  sermon  he  preached  was  in  May,  1842.  It  is  the  closing  dis- 
course of  those  comprised  in  the  two  volumes  published  in  1844, —  a  fit 
parting  lesson  of  constancy,  moderation  and  calmness,  by  one  whose  life 
was  a  beautiful  example  of  the  virtues  he  inculcated. 

In  the  month  of  June,  1843,  he  occupied  a  temporary  home  in  the 
adjoining  town  of  Dorchester,  to  pass  the  summer  in  the  country.  To  all 
appearance  he  was  much  as  he  had  been  fur  many  months,  and  tliere 
seemed  no  particular  reason  to  fear  the  termination  of  his  life  for  many 
months  to  come.  But  on  Wednesday,  the  2d  of  August,  he  was  waked 
early  in  the  morning  by  the  flowing  of  blood  from  his  lungs  ;  and,  in  a  few 
minutes,  his  vital  powers  were  exhausted  and  he  died, —  as  quietly  and 
uncomplainingly  as  he  had  lived.  On  the  Friday  following,  the  Funeral 
service  was  performed  in  King's  Chapel,  by  his  friend  and  relative,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Frothingham,  who,  on  the  succeeding  Sunday,  preached  an  appro- 
priate Discourse  in  the  same  place. 

Dr.  Greenwood's  character  was  one  of  eminent  purity,  and  he  adorned 
every  relation  that  he  sustained.  His  memory  is  still  cherished  with  una- 
bated regard  b}'  those  who  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  his  public  services  and 
of  his  private  intercourse. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Greenwood's  publications  exclusive  of 
his  contributions  to  periodicals  : —  Eternity  of  God  :  (originally  a  Sermon) 
published  at  Liverpool  and  often  republished.  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  San)uel 
Cooper  Tliacher,  prefixed  to  the  volume  of  his  Sermons,  1824.  An  Essay 
on  the  Lord's  Supper,  1824.  A  Sermon  at  the  Twenty-fifth  Anniversary 
of  the  Boston  Female  Asylum,  1825.  The  Artillery  Election  Sermon, 
1826.  Remarks  on  a  Popular  Error  respecting  the  Lord's  Supper, — 
Tract  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association,  First  series,  1826.  A  Ser- 
mon occasioned  by  the  Death  of  Governor  Gore,  1827.  A  Visit  to  Ston- 
hengp.  Letter  to  Dr.  Kirkland  on  his  Resignation  of  the  Presidency  of 
Harvard  College,  1828.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Warren  Dutton 
as  Minister  of  the  Third  Congregational  Society  in  Cambridge,  1828.  A 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  William  Parsons  Lunt  as  Pastor  of  the  Sec- 
ond Congregational  Society  in  the  City  of  New  York,  1828.  Lives  of  the 
Apostles,  1828.  On  the  New  Testament  conformed  to  Griesbach's  Text  — 
Tract  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association,  No.  30,  First  series,  1829. 
Psalms  and  Hymns,  1830,   (in  1853  this  had  reached  its  fifty-seventh  edi- 


488  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tion.)  Compreliensiveness  of  Charity  :  A  Sermon  delivered  at  the  Ordi- 
nation of  the  Rev.  William  Newell  as  Pastor  of  tlie  First  Parish  in  Cam- 
bridge, 1830.  The  Theology  of  the  Cambridge  Divinity  School :  Tract  of 
the  American  Unitarian  Association,  No.  32,  First  series,  1830.  Tlie 
Christian  and  National  Church  :  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Installation  of 
the  Rev.  James  "W.  Thompson,  over  the  Independent  Congregational 
Church  in  Salem,  1832.  A  Sermon  preached  in  King's  Chapel,  on  the 
Fast  Day  appointed  by  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  on  account  of  the 
appearance  of  the  Cholera  in  the  United  States,  1832.  History  of  King's 
Chapel,  1833.  Address  before  the  Natural  History  Society,  1833.  The 
Promise  of  Jesus  to  the  pure  in  heart  :  Tract  of  the  American  Unitarian 
Association,  No.  93,  First  series,  1835.  A  Sermon  preached  in  King's 
Chapel,  the  Sunday  after  the  Funeral  of  the  Rev.  James  Freeman,  D.  D., 
1835.  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  John  T.  Sargent, 
as  Minister  at  Large  in  Boston,  1837.  A  Good  Old  Age:  A  Sermon 
preached  on  the  Death  of  Joseph  May,  Esq.,  1841.  Sermons  to  Children, 
1841.  Sermons  of  Consolation,  1842.  In  1844  a  Selection  from  his  Ser- 
mons was  published  in  two  volumes,  12mo.;  and  in  1846  his  Miscellaneous 
"Writings  in  one  volume,  12mo.  Three  editions  of  the  Chapel  Liturgy  were 
prepared  by  Dr.  Greenwood;  and  he  also  edited  the  Rev.  Henry  Duncan's 
Philosophy  of  the  Seasons,  in  four  volumes,  in  1839.  The  Classical  Reader 
was  compiled  by  him  and  Mr.  George  B.  Emerson.  His  contributions  to 
the  Christian  Examiner,  North  American  Review,  and  several  other  peri- 
odicals, would  probably  exceed  one  hundred.  Among  these  are  some  of 
Lis  finest  literary  efforts. 

Very  truly  and  respectfully  yours, 

T.  BULFINCH. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

Syracuse,  November  6,    1862. 

My  dear  Sir;  You  could  scarcely  have  touched  a  more  tender  cord  in  my 
heart  than  by  askmg  for  my  reccollections  of  my  lamented  friend  Greenwood; 
and  yet  I  fear  that  I  shall  give  you  but  a  very  inadequate  idea  of  my  impres- 
sions concerning  him.  I  knew  him  intimately  from  our  childhood  till  his 
death.  Ilis  parents  and  mine  both  worshipped  at  the  Stone  Chapel, —  my 
father  being  a  Warden  of  the  Church,  and  his  a  highly  respectable  member 
of  it;  and  there  he  and  I  used  to  meet  every  Sunday  to  hear  Dr.  Freeman 
preach,  and  sometimes  elsewhere,  on  other  days,  to  have  things  after  our  own 
bo3'isli  way.  I  was  with  him  in  College  for  one  year,  and  in  the  Divinity 
School  neaily  a  year;  and  had  the  best  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  remark- 
able developments  both  of  his  intellect  and  of  his  heart. 

His  reputation  as  a  scholar  in  College  was  by  no  way  remarkable, — owing, 
however,  not  to  any  lack  of  capacity  for  the  highest  scholarship,  but  to  a 
passion  for  general  reading,  which  led  him  to  treat  too  lightly  the  prescribed 
course  of  study.  He  was  a  respectable  scholar  and  nothing  more;  but  in  the 
higher  and  more  beautiful  fields  of  literature  you  could  scarcely  find  any  one 
who  was  more  at  home  than  he.  He  was  as  far  as  possible,  however,  from 
any  thing  like  pretension  or  conceit;  and  when  he  came  out  one  of  the  most 
.popular  preachers  of  his  day,  it  was  evidently  the  occasion  of  as  much  surprise 
to  himself  as  of  gratification  to  his  friends.  One  of  his  first  sermons  was  on 
the  Eternity  of  God,  an  extract  from  which  he  afterwards  published  in  the 


FRANCIS   WILLIAM    PITT    GREENWOOD.  489 

Unitarian  Miscellan)';  and  all  who  heard  it  united  in  the  opinion  that  it  could 
have  been  produced  only  by  a  mind  of  extraordinary  beauty  and  elevation. 
So  strong  was  the  impression  in  his  favour  that  he  very  soon  received  calls 
from  two  churches  in  Boston; — one  from  that  on  Church  Green,  which  had 
recently  been  vacated  by  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher,  and 
the  other  from  the  Church  in  Ilollis  Street,  then  lately  made  vacant  by  the 
removal  of  the  Rev.  Horace  IloUey.  I  am  satisfied  that  these  calls,  instead  of 
exciting  his  self-complacenc}',  as  might  have  been  expected  in  so  young  a  man, 
onl}'  put  him  into  a  state  of  painful  embarrassment  in  respect  to  his  duty. 
While  in  that  state  of  mind,  he  came  to  my  room  to  ask  me  to  go  and  ride 
■with  him;  and  it  turned  out  that  his  object  was  nothing  less  than  to  talk  over 
the  subject  upon  which  he  had  been  called  so  unexpectedly  to  decide,  and 
gather  as  much  light  as  he  could  upon  the  question, —  what  he  ought  to  do. 
His  great  anxiety  evidently  was  to  do  right;  to  choose  the  place  best  adapted, 
on  the  whole,  to  his  talents  and  tastes;  and  the  result  was  that  he  went  to 
Churcli  Green.  His  whole  treatment  of  tliis  subject  evinced  great  conscien- 
tiousness, and  the  most  scrupulous  regard  to  propriety  and  delicac}'. 

Dr.  Greenwood  was  of  about  the  medium  stature,  of  a  slender  frame,  and 
having  much  of  a  consumptive  appearance.  He  had  a  luminous  poetic  coun- 
tenance, that  was  an  index  to  the  beautiful  thoughts  and  tender  and  generous 
feelings  of  which  his  mind  and  heart  were  such  a  rich  repository.  He  had  fine 
powers  of  conversation;  and  though  never  given  to  talking  excessively,  his 
simple,  graceful,  often  witty,  and  always  well  adapted,  utterances,  made  him 
a  most  agreeable  companion.  Nobody  could  ever  grow  weary  in  his  company; 
and  nobody  could  be  in  it  long  without  gathering  something  that  would  be 
likely  to  remain  among  his  cherished  remembrances.  His  mind  was  not  more 
spaikling  than  his  heart  was  warm  and  sympathetic.  The  sight  of  misery 
was  with  him  always  the  signal  of  exertion  to  relieve  it.  Not  his  more  im- 
mediate friends  only,  but  all  who  came  within  the  circle  of  his  infiuence,  may 
be  invoked  to  testify  of  his  tenderness  and  generosity. 

As  a  Preacher  it  would  be  safe  enough  to  leave  Dr.  Greenwood  to  be  judged 
by  the  large  number  of  his  discourse;^,  which  have  appeared  in  print.  What- 
ever difference  of  opinion  may  exist  concerning  them  as  to  other  points,  all, 
I  am  sure,  will  agree  in  this, —  that  they  are  exquisitely  beautiful,  in  both 
thought  and  expression.  And,  so  far  as  I  lemember,  they  contain  little  or 
nothing  which  a  Cliristian  of  your  denomination,  or  any  othei-  that  is  termed 
"Evangelical,"  could  not  cordially  subscribe  to  —  and  this,  I  suppose,  to 
have  been  true  of  much  the  greater  part  of  his  preaching.  His  manner  was 
marked  b}^  great  propi'iety  and  dignity,  while  yet  there  was  no  approach  to 
any  affectation  of  reverence.  His  voice,  not  very  loud,  was  smooth  and  agree- 
able, and  well  fitted  for  the  services  of  the  pulpit.  You  are  aware  that  in 
the  Stone  Chapel,  where  he  was  finally  settled,  there  is  a  Liturgy  corres- 
ponding somewhat  to  that  of  the  Episcopal  Church  —  he  read  that  in  the  most 
appropriate  and  impressive  manner.  He  made  you  feel  that,  instead  of  re- 
garding it  as  a  mere  matter  of  form, —  a  thing  that  must  be  done,  no  matter 
how,  he  Avas  speaking  fi'om  the  depths  of  his  own  spirit,  and  performing  what 
he  looked  upon  as  the  most  sacred  duties  that  ever  devolved  upon  him. 

It  is  perhaps  due  to  candour  to  say  that  if  there  was  one  point  in  Dr.  Green- 
wood's character  which,  in  any  degree,  disturbed  its  symmetry  or  detracted 
from  its  general  effect,  it  was  a  lack  of  that  iron  firmness,  which  would  be  a 
security  for  his  standing  erect  in  the  face  of  violent  opposition.  I  witnessed 
one  or  two  cases  illustrative  of  this,  and  frankly  told  him  that  I  thought  he 
had  complied  with  certain  demands,  which  had  been  made  upon  him,  at  too 
great  an  expense:  and  his  reply  was  «' men  are  differently  constituted."  I 
do  not  mean  to  reflect  in  the  least  upon  his  conscientiousness,  but  only  to  say 


490  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

that  courage  was  not  the  leading  element  of  his  character,  though  he  was  by 
no  means  destitute  of  it.  Yours  fraternall}', 

SAMUEL  J.  MAY. 

FROM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

Boston,  June  21,  1854. 
My  dear  Sir:  It  is  a  delicate  affair  to  speak  of  so  delicate  a  beauty  as  was 
that  which  pertained  to  the  mind  and  ciiaracter  of  Francis  P.  Greenwood. 
But  I  cannot  refuse  to  do  my  best.  My  first  knowledge  of  him  was  in  1822; 
after  his  first  ministerial  career  had  been  brought  to  a  sudden  close  by  a  bleed- 
ing of  the  lungs;  and  I  think  he  had  just  returned  from  Europe,  where  he 
had  been  for  rest  and  lecreation.  I  remember  his  saying  that  he  had  had  the 
pleasure  of  telling  the  poet  Wordsworth  that  his  lyrical  ballad  of  "  We  are 
Seven  "  was  the  earliest  recollection  of  his  childhood;  and  all  my  subsequent 
knowledge  of  him  proved  that,  if  he  was  )iurtured  on  Wordsworth's  poetry, 
in  his  case  at  least, 

"  The  child  was  father  of  the  man." 

I  used  to  meet  him  once  a  week  at  the  family  dinner-table  of  Mrs.  Frances 
Channing,  widow  of  the  elder  brother  of  Dr.  Channing,  where  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  visit  his  friend  Miss  Cabot,  aftersvard  Mrs.  Pollen;  and  where  I  was 
impressed  at  once  vvitli  his  remarkable  individuality.  The  calm,  unpretend- 
ing, unworldly  simplicity  of  his  manners  made  a  wonderful  impression.  He 
"Was  silent  rather  than  talkative;  for  he  never  spoke  for  the  sake  of  speaking. 
Tliat  would  have  been  impossible  to  his  absolute  truthfulness.  He  seemed  to 
be  destitute  of  the  ordinar}^  egotism  appertaining  to  consciousness. 

I  knew  him  again  more  faniiliarl}^  after  1825,  when  he  lived  in  Boston  as  a 
minister  of  King's  Chapel;  and  the  iuipression  which  he  made  upon  me  at  first 
continued  during  my  wliole  acquaintance  with  him.  You  could  not  sa}^  that 
he  was  witty;  but  he  was  acute — or,  rather,  truth  was  acute  by  his  instru- 
mentality; for  it  could  express  itself  through  his  transparency.  His  mind 
loved  to  harmonize,  rather  than  to  contrast  things  or  thoughts;  he  sought  for 
the  secret  tie  of  unity  in  nature,  and  regarded  forms  as  always,  in  all  their 
variety,  pointing  to  this  unit3^  Hence  he  was  diametrically  opposite,  in  the 
turn  of  his  genius,  to  Dr.  Kirkland.  The  latter  seemed  himself  intellectually 
identified  with  the  very  formative  unity,  and  the  impulse  of  his  mind  was  to 
contemplate  as  an  object  the  varieties  in  which  it  issued.  Hence  he  delighted 
in  defining  and  characterizing.  Mr.  Greenwood  seemed  to  wake  to  conscious- 
ness on  the  circumference,  instead  of  at  the  centre,  and  it  was  his  intellectual 
impulse  to  appreciate  the  pervading  spirit  of  the  whole.  His  best  sermons 
were  on  the  most  general  subjects.  Thej^  abounded  in  sentences  like  these: 
«' Because  we  cannot  resist  God's  Omnipotence,  we  can  lean  upon  it;"  "Be- 
cause we  cannot  comprehend  God's  Wisdom,  we  can  give  ourselves  up  to  be 
guided  by  it  implicitly;"  "  If  God  were  not  incomprehensible.  He  would  not 
be  essentially  greater  than  we,  and  how  could  we  rest  in  Him  .'"' 

But  he  was  more  generally  admired  for  catching  and  delineating  the  sym- 
bolism of  the  Chiistian  History.  It  was  to  him  the  drapery  of  eternal  truth. 
He  had  the  faculty  of  assembling  images  of  nature  in  such  a  way  that  the 
general  expression  of  the  whole  would  be  what  we  would  see  and  feel,  not 
only  at  the  monient  but  afterwards  when  we  saw  the  single  image;  and  every 
circumstance  of  the  history  of  Jesus  was  dwelt  upon,  also,  with  reference  to 
its  most  general  significance.  I  remember  a  masterpiece  in  this  kind  was  upon 
««  The  Crown  of  Thorns."  The  life  of  the  Saviour  seemed  an  epic  and  a  Divine 
drama  in  his  hands. 


FRANCIS   WILLIAM    PITT    GREENWOOD.  491 

Ilis  preaching,  like  Dr.  Kirkland's,  was  ethical;  but  its  effect  was  deeper 
on  the  passionate  nature,  though  it  did  not  touch  such  a  depth  as  Dr.  Chan- 
ning's.  His  natural  audience  was  the  refined  and  affectionate,  e.-ipeciully  the 
young  and  imaginative;  and  to  them  he  was  wholesome  always,  and  some- 
times terrible.  I  recollect  a  Sermon  of  his  upon  Memory,  whicli,  like  the 
angel  of  judgment,  seemed  to  tear  up  the  hearts  of  his  audience,  and  make 
everybody  sore  with  remorse.  I  at  one  time  attended  his  church  with  some 
young  people  who  were  under  my  care;  and  tlieir  varying  colour  and  intense 
consciousness  made  continual  revelations  of  tlie  deep  incisions  of  the  moral 
surgeon.  ««  It  I'equires  a  great  deal  of  resolution,"  said  one,  one  morning, 
<'  to  go  and  hear  Mr.  Greenwood;  for  his  mere}'  has  no  mercy."  I  was  in  the 
habit,  in  my  school,  of  asking  the  children  Monday  morning  what  the  minis- 
ter preached  about.  A  little  girl  nine  years  old,  of  very  susceptible  tem- 
perament, and  conscientious  almost  to  morbidness,  exclaimed,  on  one  of  these 
occasions,  with  great  energ}'',  and  in  an  agony  of  tears, — '<  Oh,  I  wish  you 
would  never  ask  me  what  ]Mr.  Greenwood  preaches  about;  for  he  is  always 
preaching  about  all  that  1  don't  do,  and  all  that  I  do  do,  that  ought  not  to  be 
so,  and  it  makes  me  feel  dreadfully."  Yet  his  ])reachii)g  was  neither  exhorta- 
tory  nor  denunciatoi'}^  He  did  not  seem  to  preach  as  he  would,  but  as  the 
subject  would.  There  was  always  in  his  hand,  as  he  went  tlirongh  the  moral 
vineyard  of  the  soul,  the  jjruniiig  knife  of  the  Spirit,  cutting  off  all  that 
seemed  to  him  not  to  be  fruit  of  the  vine  tree.  Some  one  once  said  that  Mr. 
Greenwood  gathered  the  flowers  of  Christianity  to  entertain  the  audience  with 
their  beauty.  A  young  man,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  hearing  him,  replied, — 
"  But  the  beauty  is  teiTible,  and  the  entertainment  an  agony  of  shame  and 
remorse,  if  the  hearer  lias  any  conscience."  Still,  I  apprehend  that  people 
seldom  went  to  him  as  a  Pastor  for  religious  counsel  to  themselves  individu- 
ally. It  did  not  seem  to  be  Mr.  Greenwood,  but  the  subject  which  made  hinx 
its  transparent  medium,  and  pursued  its  inevitable  way  and  did  its  work, 
"while  he  never  knew,  but  only  the  hearer  knew,  wliat  was  done.  As  if  he 
said, — "  Behold  the  truth;  it  is  eternal,  and  you  must  dwell  with  it  forever! 
See  that  you  adjust  yourself  to  it,  that  it  may  bless  you.  I  have  no  respon- 
sibility but  to  state  it." 

Mr.  Greenwood  was  never  unduly  thoughtful  of  his  own  reputation.  When  he 
had  marked  out  what  he  considered  his  line  of  duty,  he  pursued  it  with  small 
heed  of  the  speech  of  people.  He  was  very  delicate  in  his  liealth,  and  could  only 
preserve  it  by  great  care  and  avoiding  all  overtaxing.  He  was  settled  at  King's 
Chapel  on  the  express  understanding  that  he  should  preach  his  old  sermons, 
each  one  of  which  svas  a  gem  of  literary  art  in  the  eyes  of  his  hearers;  and  a 
large  portion  of  his  old  parishioners  at  Church  Green  immediately  transferred 
themselves  to  King's  Chapel,  when  he  was  settled  there.  It  was  thought  that 
the  fact  of  the  devotional  service  being  read  there  would  favour  his  bodily 
weakness;  and  his  people  told  him  they  preferred  he  should  frequently  repeat 
his  sermons  to  his  risking  exchanges  that  involved  exhaustion.  It  was  also 
understood  that  there  would  be  little  parochial  visiting. 

In  the  course  of  years,  there  was  some  dissatisfaction  in  some  quarters, 
respecting  this  last  arrangement;  and  it  gave  to  Mr.  Greenwood  much  pain, 
which  he  occasionally  expressed  to  his  intimate  friends.  But  his  dignified  free- 
dom from  egotism  always  kept  him  from  self-sought  explanations  and  self- 
vindications.  He  regretted  when  he  was  unjustly  blamed  for  not  fulfilling  obli- 
gations that  he  had  expressly  guarded  himself  from  incurring,  and  which  were 
of  a  conventional  nature  in  principle.  Once  only  did  I  seek  an  explanation  of  one 
of  the  circumstances  for  which  he  was  blamed,  and  which  seemed  to  involve  a 
violation  of  one  of  those  duties  of  the  heart,  which  transcended  any  official 
obligation.     It  was  where  the  sou  of  a  lady,  who  had  always  loved  him 


492  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

devotedly,  was  lying  at  the  point  of  death,  and  he  was  sent  for  and  did  not 
go,  apparently  because  he  was  engaged  with  his  wife,  who  was  very  ill,  but 
■whom  it  was  thought  he  might  and  ought  to  have  left  under  the  circumstances. 
He  told  me,  however,  why  he  did  not  go,  and  the  reasons  were  of  a  whoUj 
different  character,  inhering  in  some  circumstances  which  involved  the  hap- 
piness of  the  family  to  which  he  was  called.  He  had  been  privately  requested 
by  the  husband  of  the  lady  and  father  of  the  son,  not  to  go,  in  the  very  letter 
which  they  thought  carried  the  first  request;  and  to  have  done  so  would 
have  involved  a  domestic  tragedy.  The  question  lay  between  doing  as  he  did, 
and  compromising  himself  in  the  eyes  of  a  large  circle  of  his  acquaintance,  who 
might  draw  the  inference  that  he  was  personally  selfish,  and  even  unfaithful. 
It  was  a  very  bitter  trial  to  him,  and  he  expressed  the  greatest  sensibility  to 
what  he  called  my  justice  in  asking  of  him  an  explanation,  in  the  confidence 
I  had  that  it  could  not  be  as  it  appeared.  He  said, —  "It  is  rare,  I  find,  to 
judge  of  circumstances  b}''  character,  rather  than  of  character  by  circum- 
stances." But  he  had  no  hesitation  in  making  the  sacrifice  of  his  reputation, 
rather  than  risk  doing  an  irreparable  injury,  as  it  would  have  been  to  have 
explained,  where  he  was  not  asked,  and  could  not  impose  discretion.  It  was 
the  duty  of  another  person  to  have  cleared  up  his  conduct  in  the  case,  who  did 
not  do  it.  But  Mr.  Greenwood  could  better  bear  any  degree  of  misapprehen- 
sion than  violate  that  delicate  sense  of  duty  which  prescribed  to  him  the  self- 
saci'ifice.  All  the  parties  to  this  matter  are  since  dead,  or  I  could  not  allude 
to  it  without  doing  the  same  mischief  that  he  avoided.  We  had  a  great  deal 
of  conversation  on  the  subject;  for  it  was  hard  for  me  to  bear  hearing  him 
censured,  and  be  compelled  to  defend  him  by  generalities  only.  He  said  once 
that  the  peculiar  pain  it  gave  him  to  leave  his  name  under  this  shadow,  in  the 
hearts  which  suffered  in  condemning  him,  proved  to  him  the  absolute  nature 
of  the  command  to  deny  one's  self.  It  crucified  his  particular  taste  to  be  just 
so  misapprehended.  He  drew  from  this  personal  experience  many  inferences 
as  to  social  duty,  and  especially  those  duties  enjoined  in  the  passage, — 
««  Judge  not  that  ye  be  not  judged,  &c.;"  and  I  felt  how  long  it  affected  him 
by  the  sermons  to  which  it  gave  rise,  but  which  no  one  would  have  imagined 
the  source  of,  since  they  were  preached  to  himself,  as  it  were,  in  the  first 
place. 

He  was  as  impersonal  as  Dr.  Kirkland,  with  a  different  manifestation  of  it. 
My  parents  went  to  his  church,  and  I  always  did  so  too,  except  when  Dr. 
Channing  preached:  and  then  I  went  to  hear  him,  and  always  as  I  went,  met 
Mr.  Greenwood  on  the  way.  And  it  was  perfectly  easy  to  do  so.  There  was 
no  germ  of  competitory  ambition  in  him.  His  magnanimity  was  not  a  virtue, 
but  a  quality  of  his  soul.  His  preventing  innocence  seemed  to  preclude  the 
usual  struggles  against  the  passions. 

It  may  add  some  weight  to  my  testimony  to  this  beautiful  character  to  know 
that  it  comes  from  one  who  no  longer  believes  that  the  whole  secret  of  life  is 
contained  in  the  Unitarian  creed,  that  Mr.  Greenwood  professed  to  preach,  but 
to  which  he  certainly  was  not  in  spirit  confined;  as  one  proof  of  which  I 
would  point  to  his  special  fondness  for  Dr.  Watts'  and  Charles  Wesley's 
Hymns,  that  so  largely  abound  in  his  Collection  of  Hymns  for  public  worship. 
Yours  very  respectfully, 

ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 


WILLIAM   BOURN    OLIVER   PEABODY.  493 


WILLIAM  BOURN  OLIVER  PEABODY,  D.  D  * 

1819  —  1847. 

William  Bourn  Oliver  Peabody  was  born  in  Exeter,  N.  II.,  July 
9,  1799.  His  parents  were  worthy  and  excellent  people,  and  his  fatlier, 
"who  was  greatly  respected  by  the  community  at  large,  held  the  office  of 
Judge  of  Probate.  Young  Peabody  was,  by  the  circumstances  of  his  birth 
and  education,  thrown,  from  liis  earliest  years,  into  the  most  cultivated  and 
refined  society  ;  and  it  was  manifest,  in  after  life,  that  his  tastes  and  habits 
of  thinking  and  feeling  had  been  formed  under  such  an  influence.  The 
prominent  characteristics  of  his  childhood  and  youth  were  modesty,  gen- 
tleness, conscientiousness  and  discretion. 

In  the  year  1808,  when  he  was  nine  years  of  age,  he  was  placed  at  the 
Academy  in  Atkinson,  N.  II.,  and  was.  while  there,  an  inn)ate  of  the  family  of 
Lis  venerable  relative,  the  llev.  Stephen  Peabody,  who  was  married  to  the 
sister  of  the  wife  of  the  first  President  Adams.  Having  remained  here  for 
a  few  months  only,  he  was  admitted,  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  a 
student  in  Exeter  Phillips  Academy.  Here  he  showed  himself  an  uncom- 
monly gifted  boy,  and  discovered  a  taste  for  poetry,  which  he  cuUivatod,  in 
subsequent  years,  with  no  small  success.  Without  being  distinguished 
in  the  severer  studies,  he  was  always  diligent  and  attentive,  and  remarka- 
ble for  a  distrust  of  his  own  abilities. 

In  the  autumn  of  1813  he  was  admitted  a  member  of  the  Sophomore 
class  in  Harvard  University.  Here,  as  at  the  Academy,  he  maintained  a 
highly  respectable  standing  for  scholarship,  and  in  his  moral  deportment 
was  most  exemplary.  He  devoted  no  small  part  of  his  time,  during  his 
college  course,  to  general  reading,  and,  as  his  memory  was  remarkably 
accurate  and  retentive,  he  accumulated,  in  this  way,  a  vast  amount  of 
information,  upon  which  he  was  able  to  draw  in  subsequent  years.  He 
graduated  at  the  Commencement  in  1816,  on  which  occasion  he  delivered 
an  English  Poem,  which  was  considered  as  evincing  an  uncommon  degree 
of  taste  and  talent. 

Notwithstanding  his  taste  inclined  him  to  the  ministry,  and  it  seems  to 
have  been  understood,  from  his  very  early  years,  that  this  would  probably 
be  his  profession,  it  was  not  thought  best,  considering  that  he  was  only 
seventeen  years  old,  that  he  should  commence  his  theological  studies  im- 
mediately after  his  graduation  ;  and  hence  he  engaged,  for  one  year,  as  an 
assistant  teacher  in  the  Academy  at  Exeter.  In  this  place  he  discharged 
his  duties  in  a  manner  the  most  satisfactory  to  all  concerned,  while  he 
found  the  occupation  of  much  use  to  himself,  in  giving  him  a  habit  of  ac- 
curacy in  acquiring  and  imparting  knowledge. 

In  the  autumn  of  1817  he  went  to  Cambridge  to  pursm  his  theological 
studies,  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Ware,  the  Hollis  Professor  of  Divinity. 
He  commenced  preaching  in  the  year  1819,  when  he  had  just  reached  the 
age  of  twenty.  Early  in  1820  he  went  to  Springfield  to  preach  as  a  candi- 
date to  the  Unitarian  Society,  which  had  been  formed,  a  few  months  before, 
•  Memoir  prefixed  to  his  Sermons. 


494  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

by  a  secession  from  Dr.  Osgood's.  His  services  proved  acceptable  to  them, 
and  ill  due  time  lie  received  a  call  to  become  their  Pastor.  He  accepted 
the  call  and  was  ordained,  and  installed  on  the  12th  of  October,  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  occasion  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ware,  from  1  Cor. 
XIII.  10,  "  We  know  but  in  part." 

Mr.  Peabody's  situation  as  a  minister  was  insulated,  there  being,  at  that 
time,  no  other  clergyman  of  the  Unitarian  faith  in  that  neighbourhood, 
and  the  time  having  come  when  exchanges  between  Orthodox  and  Unitarian 
ministers  were  almost  wholly  discontinued.  In  consequence  of  tliis,  he 
found  an  amount  of  labour  devolving  upon  him,  too  great  for  his  physical 
strength,  and  his  iiealth  soon  became  seriously  affected.  In  the  summ«r  of 
1821,  he  suffered  severely  from  an  affection  of  his  eyes,  insomuch  that 
serious  apprehensions  were  entertained  by  bis  friends  that  he  would  be 
obliged  to  retire  from  his  profession.  The  next  year  he  was  taken  off 
from  his  labours  for  several  months,  by  extreme  debility,  though  he  was 
able  to  return  to  them  late  in  the  autumn.  From  this  time,  though  he  was* 
always  troubled  more  or  less  with  weakness  of  the  eyes,  and  his  bodily  health 
was  at  best  imperfect,  he  was  laboriously  engaged,  with  very  few  interrup- 
tions, during  the  residue  of  his  life. 

On  the  8th  of  September,  1824,  Mr.  Peabody  was  married  to  Miss  Eliza- 
beth Amelia  White,  daughter  of  Moses  White  Esq.,  of  Lancaster,  N.  H., 
a  lady  of  great  natural  attraction  and  loveliness.  In  this  connection  he 
found  a  source  of  the  richest  domestic  enjoyment,  though  the  termination 
of  it,  which  came  after  a  few  years,  was  the  severest  trial  of  his  life. 

In  connection  with  his  professional  labours,  he  devoted  considerable  at- 
tention to  different  departments  of  Natural  Science.  His  knowledge  of 
plants  and  forest  trees,  of  the  varieties  of  birds  and  their  different  habits, 
was  extensive  and  accurate. 

About  the  year  1830  he  wrote  an  article  for  the  North  American  Re- 
view, upon  one  of  Audubon's  splendid  volumes,  which  was  the  beginning 
of  an  acquaintance  between  them,  that  was  terminated  only  by  death.  He 
also  contributed  to  the  same  work  several  other  valuable  articles  on  Natu- 
ral History.  He  wrote  also  for  Sparks'  American  Biography,  the  Life  of 
Alexander  Wilson,  the  Ornithologist,  which  is  alike  interesting  fur  its 
beautiful  style  and  its  touching  details.  In  1837,  a  survey  of  the  State  of 
Massachusetts,  with  reference  to  several  branches  of  science,  having  been 
ordered  by  the  Legislature,  the  Governor,  Edward  Everett,  upon  whom  it 
devolved  to  appoint  suitable  persons  to  execute  the  task,  selected  Mr.  Pea- 
body  to  prepare  a  Report  on  the  Birds  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  and  he  per- 
formed the  service  in  a  most  creditable  and  satisfactory  manner.  He 
brought  to  the  work  not  only  the  fruits  of  extensive  study  and  research,  but 
a  quick  perception  of  the  beautiful  and  a  deep  sympathy  with  nature,  which 
made  his  descriptions  as  acceptable  to  the  general  as  the  scientific  reader. 

In  1842  M^.  Peabody  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from 
Harvard  University. 

On  the  evening  of  the  16th  of  March,  1843,  a  meeting  of  Dr.  Peabody's 
congregation  took  place  at  his  own  house,  before  which  he  delivered  a  fam- 
iliar Address,  reviewing  the  history  of  the  society  in  connection  with  his 
own  ministry.      It  was,  in  modern  phrase,  a   "donation  party,"  though 


WILLIAM    BOURN    OLIVER    PEABODY.  495 

religious  exercises  were  connected  with  it.  The  occasion  was  one  of  great 
interest  to  both  Dr.  Peabody  and  his  Society,  and  the  Address  which  it 
called  forth  was  published. 

Dr.  Peabody's  earthly  prospects,  at  this  period,  seemed  every  thing  that 
he  could  desire.  His  congregation  were  eminently  devoted  to  him,  and 
ready  to  do  any  thing  that  might  subserve,  in  any  way,  his  comfort  or  use- 
fulness. He  was  greatly  respected  and  beloved  in  the  community  at  large, 
and  received  many  gratifying  tokens  of  public  favour.  Above  all,  he  had 
a  bright  and  lovely  family  of  children  around  him,  and  a  wife,  whose  talents, 
and  accomplishments,  and  generous  dispositions,  qualified  her  to  grace  any 
circle  into  which  she  could  have  been  thrown.  But,  tliough  he  seemed  to 
be  in  the  very  noontide  of  his  earthly  bliss,  a  dark  cloud  was  soon  to  appear, 
and  that  was  to  pass  off,  only  to  make  way  for  another  and  another. 

Mrs.  Peabody's  health  was  not  vigorous,  and,  previous  to  the  summer 
of  1843,  her  strength  had  evidently  been  somewhat  upon  the  wane.  Late  in 
the  month  of  September  she  was  attacked  by  illness,  but  not  in  its  incip- 
ient stages  so  severe  as  to  excite  any  apprehension  on  the  part  of  her 
friends.  Nevertheless,  she  seemed  herself  to  have  had,  from  the  begin- 
ning, a  presentiment  that  it  would  have  a  fatal  termination  ;  and  one  even- 
ing she  requested  that  all  the  children  might  come  into  her  chamber,  that 
their  parents  might  together  consecrate  them  in  prayer  to  God.  Her  dis- 
ease resisted  the  power  of  medicine,  and  it  quickly  became  apparent  that 
her  end  was  near.  She  received  the  intelligence  with  perfect  calmness, 
and,  clasping  her  hands,  exclaimed,  with  a  smile, — "  Is  it  possible?  Am 
I  so  early  to  be  blessed  ?  Shall  I  so  soon  be  with  my  Saviour  and  my 
God  ?"     She  died  on  the  4th  of  October,  1843. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  Mrs.  Peabody's  diary  : — 

"  I  am  desirous  to  ascertain  with  distinctness  what  my  duty  is  for  the  day.  It  is 
one  of  those  days  of  comparative  leisure,  wlien  no  immediate  call  comes  upon  me  for 
active  employment  or  spiritual  exertion.  I  find  myself  not  indisposed  for  activity,  and 
having  a  wakeful  interest  for  my  religious  improvement,  so  tljat  I  desire  to  be  found  in 
the  service  of  my  Master,  but  see  no  reason  to  suppose  that  I  shall  accomplish  any 
thing  fur  myself  or  others,  for,  having  no  definite  purpose  as  an  object  for  the  day,  it 
will  be  likely  to  pass  away  in  unprofitable  thoughts.  This  waste  of  such  days  distresses 
me.  because  I  know  the  time  will  come  when  such  a  portion  of  time  will  seem  invalu- 
able to  me,  and  I  shall  see  distinctly  before  me  objects  of  infinite  importance,  which 
time  only  is  wanting  to  mature.  Here  then  is  the  time  —  where  are  these  objects? 
Can  they  be  called  up  to  the  enquiring  soul  ready  to  embrace  them?  Gracious  Father, 
one  who  longs  to  be  truly  thy  servant  in  all  things,  humbly  waits  upon  thee  at  this 
time,  wishing  to  see  the  exact  work  which  thou  hast  given  h'^r  to  do.  She  is  in  time 
which  is  passing  away.  She  fills  relations  to  thee  and  to  her  fellow  beings,  which  have 
their  legitimate  obligations.  She  must  have  something  to  do  in  this  place,  and  at  this 
time,  which  can  be  done  by  no  other  person,  and  at  no  other  time.  What  then  is  her 
duty  for  this. day?  She  would  not  float  at  random  even  on  the  waters  of  life.  Ko.  she 
would  rather  labour  to  attain  her  destined  harbour,  that,  when  tjie  evening  comes,  she 
may  be  ready  to  wait  on  thee,  to  seek  thy  judgment  on  her  labour." 

At  the  time  of  his  wife's  death.  Dr.  Peabody's  family  consisted  of  four 
sons  and  a  daughter, —  the  latter, —  the  eldest  of  the  five,  having  reached 
the  age  of  eighteen,  and  being  distinguished  for  her  personal  accomplishments 
and  intellectual  attractions.  As  it  devolved  upon  this  daughter  tiow  to 
take  the  place  of  her  mother  in  the  concerns  of  the  household,  and  especially 
in  the  management  of  the  younger  children,  and  as  she  had  hitherto  had 
very  little  experience  in  domestic  affairs,  her  father  addressed  to  her  a  let- 
ter of  advice,  the    most   touching   and  impressive,  which,  combined  with 


496  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

other  influences,  seems  to  have  wrouglit  a  most  desirable  change  in  lier 
character.  Slie  immediately  took  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  family,  dis- 
charging the  various  duties  which  devolved  upon  her  in  that  relation,  with 
the  utmost  discretion,  dignity  and  fidelity.  She  also,  soon  after,  joined  her 
father's  church,  engaged  witli  great  activity  in  the  promotion  of  benevolent 
objects,  and  seemed,  in  ahnost  all  respects,  to  fill  the  place  that  had  been 
vacated  by  her  mother.  Her  devotion  to  her  father  was  most  constant  and 
exemplary,  wliile  her  conduct  in  respect  to  her  brothers  was  such  that  they 
looked  up  to  her  with  respect  as  well  as  affection.  But  the  flower  which 
•was  so  beautiful  in  its  opening,  was  quickly  nipped  by  the  frost  of  death. 
In  January,  184-4,  nearly  fuur  months  after  the  death,  of  her  motlier,  she 
was  suddenly  prostrated  by  a  disease  which  proved  to  be  the  scarlet  fever. 
Her  father,  who  was  himself  at  this  time  quite  ill,  thus  writes  to  a  friend  : — 
«'  In  a  former  day,  I  should  have  felt  very  badly  to  have  such  a  disease 
make  its  appearance  in  the  faujily  ;  but  I  have  learned  better.  I  cannot 
be  without  anxiety  for  my  dear  Fanny,  and  the  other  children,  but  I  have 
DO  fears;  I  can  leave  all  to  Him  who  disposes  these  events,  with  perfect 
confidence  in  his  love,  and  without  a  wish  to  alter  his  appointment,  what- 
ever it  may  be."  A  few  hours  after  this  was  written,  her  father  was  called 
from  his  own  sick  chamber  to  her  bedside,  to  see  her  breathe  her  last. 
She  died  on  the  28lh  of  the  month,  after  an  illness  of  about  four  days. 
Dr.  Peabody,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  return  to  his  pulpit,  availed  himself 
of  the  sad  event  to  address,  with  great  tenderness  and  earnestness,  the 
youth  of  his  congregation. 

Notwithstanding  these  afflictions  —  the  one  succeeding  the  other  so 
quickly  —  came  upon  Dr.  Peabody  with  an  almost  crushing  weight,  he 
continued  in  the  discharge  of  his  ordinary  duties,  and  manifested  more 
depth  and  power  of  feeling  in  his  preaching  than  he  had  perhaps  ever  done 
before.  In  July,  1846,  he  delivered  a  Discourse  before  the  Alumni  of  the 
Divinity  School  at  Cambridge,  when  the  state  of  his  health  was  such  that 
liis  hearers  listened  to  his  voice  almost  as  if  it  had  been  a  voice  from  the 
grave.  Early  in  October  following  he  was  attacked  with  illness,  which, 
though  of  short  continuance,  was  followed  by  great  exhaustion.  After  an 
absence  of  two  or  three  Sabbaths  from  his  pulpit,  he  returned  to  it,  while 
he  was  yet  too  feeble  to  stand.  During  the  winter,  he  suffered  not  a  little 
from  a  failure  of  his  voice  ;  but  he  continued  his  labours  with  great  zeal, 
and,  besides  preaching  as  usual  on  the  Sabbath,  took  a  class  in  the  Sunday 
School,  and  made  large  contributions  to  the  North  American  Review.  In 
the  month  of  April,  1847,  he  was  visited  with  a  severe  cough,  which  greatly 
alarmed  his  people,  and  led  them  to  urge  upon  him  the  importance  of  tak- 
ing a  lengthened  recess  from  his  labours,  and  even  of  trying  the  effect  of  a 
voyage  to  Europe.  The  utmost  that  he  would  consent  to  was  that  he 
would  take  short  journeys,  and  avail  himself  frequently  of  the  privilege  of 
supplying  his  pulpit  by  exchanges  with  his  brethren  at  a  distance.  On  the 
16th  of  May  he  preached  to  his  people  for  the  last  time.  His  last  sermon 
»vas  from  the  text, —  "  To  be  spiritually  minded  is  life  and  peace."  On  the 
Wednesday  following  he  was  occupied  nearly  the  whole  day  in  writing  an 
article  which  he  had  promised  for  the  North  American  Review.  At  night 
he  complained  of  chilliness,  and  the  next  morning  was  so  ill  that  he  was 


WILLIAM    BOURN    OLIVER    PEABODY.  497 

unable  to  leave  liis  beJ  ;  though  lie  dictated  to  his  son,  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  several  pages  of  the  review  he  was  so  anxious  to  complete.  From 
that  time  he  was  constantly  sinking,  and,  on  Friday  the  28th  of  May,  he 
lost  the  power  of  speech,  and  seemed  scarcely  conscious  of  what  was  going 
on  around  him.  Ou  the  evening  of  that  day,  his  friend  and  neighbour,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Osgood,  visited  him,  and  offered  a  prayer  at  his  bedside,  which 
he  evidently  heard,  and  for  which  he  endeavoured  to  express  his  thanks. 
He  continued  a  laboured  respiration  till  near  midnight,  when  he  fell  gently 
into  his  final  slumber.  His  Funeral  was  attended  on  the  following  Tues- 
day, and  a  Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  by  the  llev.  Dr.  Gannett,  of 
Boston,  which  was  published. 

Dr.  Peabody  was  considerably  known  as  a  poet,  though  most  of  his  poet- 
ical etlusions  date  back  to  an  early  period  of  his  ministry.  In  1823  he 
publislied  a  Poetical  Catechism  for  the  use  of  the  Young,  designed  to 
explain  and  enforce  various  religious  duties.  The  work  has  long  since 
been  out  of  print,  but  many  of  the  pieces  have  been  republished  in  other 
forms.  He  wrote,  occasionally,  for  some  of  the  Annuals,  and  was,  for 
many  years,  a  frequent  contributor  to  the  Christian  Examiner,  and  espe- 
cially to  the  North  American  lleview. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  his  Occasional  Sermons  and  Addresses : — 

An  Address  delivered  at  Springfield  before  the  Hampden  Colonization 
Society,  1828.  A  Sermon  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  1831,  An  Address- 
to  the  Calvinistic  Society  in  Springfield,  1831.  A  Sermon  at  the  Annual! 
Election,  1833.  A  Sermon  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  1833.  A  Sermon 
on  the  Duty  of  those  who  dislike  and  dread  the  sentiments  of  other  Chris- 
tians, 1833.  An  Address  at  the  Consecration  of  the  Springfield  Cemetery,, 
1841.  A  Discourse  on  the  Death  of  John  Abbot  Emery,  1842.  A  Fa- 
miliar Address,  delivered  at  the  Social  Meeting  of  the  members  of  tlie  Lib- 
eral Society,  Springfield,  1843. 

After  Dr.  Peabody's  death,  there  was  published  a  volume  of  his  Ser- 
mons, to  which  was  prefixed  a  Memoir  of  his  life. 

Dr.  Peabody  was  my  immediate  neighbour  for  about  nine  years  after  his 
settlement  at  Springfield  ;  and  though  my  intercourse  with  him  was  not 
very  frequent,  it  was  sufficient  to  give  me  considerable  knowledge  of  his 
character.  He  was  remarkably  urbane  and  courteous  in  his  manners, 
though,  upon  a  slight  acquaintance,  he  manifested  some  degree  of  reserve.. 
He  was  always  modest,  and  rather  disposed  to  keep  in  the  back  ground 
than  to  obtrude  himself  upon  the  notice  of  others.  He  was,  however,  ex- 
ceedingly agreeable  as  a  companion,  and  would  sometimes,  by  his  wit  and 
brilliancy,  become  the  life  of  a  social  circle.  He  was  amiable,  generous, 
and  ready  to  make  sacrifices  for  the  benefit  of  others.  His  manner  in  the 
pulpit  was  too  uniform  to  carry  with  it  any  great  power,  but  his  thoughts 
on  every  subject  were  beautiful,  and  often  strikingly  original,  and  his  style 
was  a  model  of  graceful  simplicity.  I  regarded  him  as  one  of  the  moat 
accomplished  men  with  whom  I  was  acquainted.  When  he  came  to  Spring- 
field, he  came  in  the  midst  of  a  tempest  which  had  well-nigh  caused  the 
whole  neighbourhood  to  rock ;  but  the  elements  quickly  subsided  into  a. 
calm, —  the  result,  I  doubt  not,  in  a  great  measure,  of  the  workings  of  his- 
gentle  and  peaceful  spirit. 

Vol.  VIH.  32 


498  -         UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  MISS  MARGARET  T.  EMERY. 

Springfield,  October  16,  1852. 

Dear  Sir:  I  have  found  it  difficult  to  fulfil  my  promise  to  you,  from  the 
feeling  that  my  words  have  so  little  power  in  convej-ing  to  you  the  recollec- 
tions that  throng  upon  me, —  so  vivid  to  my  own  mind,  but  so  indistinct  when 
I  endeavour  to  seize  upon  them  for  another.  Our  reasons  for  lamenting  Dr. 
Peabody  are  well  expressed  in  the  words  of  a  far  more  powerful  pen  than 
mine  : — 

■'  For  talents  mourn  untimely  lost, 

"  When  best  employed  and  wanted  most, 

"Mourn  genius  high  and  low  profound, 

"  And  wit  that  loved  to  pla}-,  not  wound, 

"  With  all  the  reasoning  powers  Divine, 

"  To  penetrate,  resolve,  combine, 

"  And  feelings  keen  and  fancy's  glow, 

"  They  sleep  with  him  who  sleeps  below." 

He  came,  as  you  are  aware,  very  young,  to  his  people,  and  under  some  pecu- 
liar disadvantages.  Religious  differences — no  matter  how  honest  they  may  be — 
seem  like  that  star  from  Heaven  called  Wormwood,  in  their  effect  upon  the 
current  of  daily  life.  All  his  influence  was  used  to  hush  the  spirit  of  angry 
contention  which  then  prevailed;  and  with  what  effect  may  be  inferred  from 
a  letter  published  in  his  Memoirs  from  the  Pastor  of  the  church  from  which 
his  people  seceded. 

It  was  not  common  then  for  Unitarians  to  have  more  than  the  Sabbath  ser- 
vice; but  he  soon  began  to  have  Bible  classes,  or  Sunday  School  teachers' 
instruction.  None  of  these  measures  seemed  very  effective,  and  they  were, 
after  a  while,  discontinued.  Early  in  the  3^ear  1838  he  lost  one  of  his  most 
valued  parishioners, —  "  a  man  greatly  beloved,"  wlio,  penetrated  with  a  deep 
sense  of  eternal  things,  had  entreated  hin)  to  try  meetings  of  a  more  familiar 
character  than  the  Sabbath  service.  He  did  so,  and  collected  a  few  persons  at 
his  own  house.  All  these,  as  they  entered,  seemed  to  feel,  from  his  manner, 
that  the  place  where  they  stood  was  holy  ground.  He  began  by  addressing 
them  on  the  usefulness  and  necessity  of  association  for  worldly  objects,  and 
urged  them  to  try  its  advantages  with  regard  to  spiritual  things.  "  But," 
said  he,  '<  we  cannot  hope  to  he  prospered  in  this,  or  any  thing  else,  without 
'the  blessing  of  God  —  Let  us  ask  it  now."  He  offered  a  deeply  affecting 
prayer,  full  of  humble  entreaties  for  spiritual  aid,  and  then  opened  the  Bible 
at  the  third  chapter  of  John,  which  he  read  and  commented  upon;  at  the 
same  time  addressing  his  hearers  on  the  absolute  necessity  of  being  born 
again;  of  having  those  new  views,  desires,  affections,  in  respect  to  spiritual 
objects,  which  should  be  as  a  new  birth  to  our  souls.  A  hymn  M'as  then  sung, 
and  the  benediction  pronounced.  All  appeared  to  feel  like  Jacob,  brought 
suddenly  near  to  the  gate  of  Heaven.  No  voice  was  heard  in  the  usual  tones 
of  conversation,  but  all  seemed  conferring  in  whispers  of  the  great  truths  so 
impressively  presented.  The  meetings  were,  for  a  time,  continued  wcekl}^  at 
his  house, —  afterwards  at  a  small  room  in  the  church;  and  oh!  how  many 
happy  hours  have  we  passed  in  that  little  upper  chamber!  Several  from  Dr. 
O.sgood's  Society  came  to  hear  him,  and  the  audience  became  so  numerous  that 
the  meetings  were  obliged  to  be  held  in  the  church,  where  they  were  continued 
until  he  had  completed  his  course  of  Lectures  on  the  Gospels.  The  interest 
taken  bj^  his  people,  the  attendance  of  some  Avhom  he  loved  and  respected  from 
the  other  Societies,  and  his  growing  delight  in  the  subjects  that  occupied  him, 
all  contributed  to  "  freshen  his  soul's  virtues  into  flower;"  and  he  never 
seemed  so  eloquent  or  so  impressive  as  at  this  period.  He  used  to  say  that  he 
felt  as  if  the  Sabbath  hearers  came  partly  from  habit,  or  a  sense  of  propriety 


WILLIAM    BOURN    OLIVER   PEABODY.  499 

but  that  those  who  came  to  the  lectures  came  only  for  the  purpose  of  hearing 
the  word. 

Some  striking  thoughts  were  preserved  at  the  time  by  one  of  his  hearers; 
for  the  lectures  were  wholl}'  extemporaneous.  One  evening,  after  speaking  of 
the  miracle  of  raising  the  Widow's  son,  he  observed  that  "  the  New  Testament 
writers  chiefly  applied  the  word  '  dead  '  to  those  who  were  not  alive  to  their 
immortal  interests,"  while  they  spoke  of  those  whom  toe  call  dead  only  <<  as 
sleeping  in  Jesus."  He  then  observed  that  our  Saviour  was  seen  ascending  to 
Heaven,  to  comfort  and  encourage  his  disciples;  but  that  lie  was  still  with  us, 
and  working  among  us  with  a  mightier  power  than  that  which  raised  Laza- 
rus and  the  Widow's  son  from  the  dead.  For  they  offered  no  resistance  to  his 
will:  the  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  did  resist  Him  when  He  would  recall  them 
to  a  better  life;  and  3'et  the  mightier  power  of  awakening  them  was  still  to  be 
seen  among  us.  For  instance,  the  form  of  sensuality  with  which  we  are  most 
familiar, —  the  path  of  ruin  whence  we  see  the  fewest  returning  feet, —  intem- 
perance— where  not  only  a  man's  habits,  but  his  tastes,  and  inclinations,  and 
whole  nature,  were  entirely  changed, —  was  not  this  a  greater  miracle  wrought 
by  the  Son  of  God  than  that  whicli  called  Lazarus  from  the  dead  ?  He  was 
called,  as  we  suppose,  from  a  world  of  bliss  to  one  of  conflict  and  sorrow;  but 
he  who  is  thus  restored,  even  while  in  this  world,  passes  from  misery'  to  hap- 
piness." In  another  lecture,  while  speaking  of  our  Saviour's  tears  at  the 
grave  of  Lazarus,  he  observed  that  «'  one  reason  why  Jesus  wept,  might  be 
that  his  mission  required  Him  to  call  Lazarus  from  the  better  world,  to  suffer 
again  the  agonies  of  death, — ^^the  pangs  of  separation  from  those  he  loved,  and 
to  undergo  again  the  conflicts  with  sin  and  temptation,  when  he  had  believed 
them  at  an  end  forever." 

One  thought  which  Dr.  Peabody  was  accustomed  to  dwell  much  upon,  was 
that  the  Bible  yields  the  richest  nourishment  to  the  human  intellect;  and 
some  of  his  unpublished  lectures  on  the  Old  Testament  were  considered  by 
those  who  heard  them  as  among  his  most  powerful  mental  efforts.  During  the 
latter  part  of  his  life,  he  kept  an  interleaved  Bible,  in  which  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  note  down  his  own  thoughts,  and  the  thoughts  of  others,  on  various 
passages  of  Scripture.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  these  observations  did  not 
extend  beyond  the  four  first  books  of  the  Old  Testament. 

All  who  have  known  any  thing  of  Dr.  Peabody,  are  acquainted  with  the 
peculiar  sorrows  of  his  later  years.  Heavily  did  they  fall,  notwithstanding 
the  sympathy  of  a  most  devoted  flock.  His  sorrow  had  this  alleviation  too, — 
the  remembrance  of  the  virtues  of  the  departed.  His  wife  was  indeed  taken 
awa}-  in  the  midst  of  her  visefulness;  but  many  slaves  restored  to  liberty  and 
its  blessings,  in  the  country  of  their  fathers,  had  cause  to  bless  her  name;  for 
she  was  the  main-spring  of  the  Colonization  Society  in  Springfield,  and,  after 
her  death,  it  flourished  no  more.  His  daughter,  a  most  gifted  creature,  and 
very  like  her  father,  had  seemed,  till  her  mother's  death,  wholly  absorbed  in 
the  things  of  tliis  world;  but  the  rock  in  Horeb  was  not  more  changed  by  that 
stroke  which  disclosed  the  living  waters,  than  she  was  by  this  sudden  blast- 
ing of  some  of  her  best  earthly  hopes.  Then  our  dear  Fanny  stood,  as  it  were, 
transfigured  before  us  for  three  short  months,  and,  before  the  brightness  of  her 
new  life  grew  dim,  was  called,  as  we  trust,  to  mingle  with  her  departed 
mother  in  nobler  scenes.  A  devoted  sister*  still  remained  to  Dr.  Peabody, 
who  did  not  leave  him  till  called,  by  a  higher  duty,  to  a  distant  land.  There 
she  experienced  the  sorrows  of  widowhood,  and  received  tidings  of  the  death 
of  the  brother  with  whom  she  had  hoped  again  to  find  a  home.  Her  remain- 
ing brother  looked  to  her  as  the  light  of  his  latter  days;  but  alas!  the  grave 

•  Mrs.  Alexander  H.  Everett. 


500  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

quickly  claimed  him  also,  and  her  fond  affection  for  the  living  was  turned  into 
bitter  lamentation  for  the  dead. 

During  the  first  year  after  Dr.  Peabody's  bereavement,  meetings  for  chari- 
table purposes  were  held  at  his  house  once  a  fortnight, —  the  time  from  six  to 
nine  o'clock,  p.  m.  There  cases  of  distress  were  presented,  and  the  kmd  and 
degree  of  aid  determined  on;  those  who  had  recently  come  into  the  i)arish 
were  introduced;  and  Dr.  P.  greatly  enjoyed  this  familiar  intercourse  with  his 
people.  At  nine  o'clock,  the  dismission  hymn  was  sung,  and  the  evening 
closed  by  prayer.  These  meetings  were  continued  every  winter  as  long  as  he 
lived. 

Dr.  Peabody  had  the  great  satisfaction,  during  the  time  of  sorrow  which 
closed  the  year  1843,  of  removing  the  only  cloud  which  rested  on  the  time  hon- 
oured name  of  John  Wesley.  He  was  enabled  to  do  so,  by  a  gentleman  in 
his  parish,  who,  while  he  passed  the  winter  of  1843-44  in  Savannah,  copied 
many  documents  for  the  use  of  his  Pastor,  as  he  was  writing  the  life  of  Ogle- 
thorpe. Wesley's  admirers  well  remember  the  ill-will  he  incuned,  by  refusing 
to  administer  the  Communion  to  a  lady  whom  he  had  loved  and  thought  of 
marrying,  but  who  had  married  another.  Wesley  Mas  greatly  censured  for 
this  step,  which  was  imputed  to  a  sort  cif  revengeful  jealousy.  But  there  is 
evidence  in  Sparks'  American  Biography  (Life  of  Oglethorpe,  pp.  314-325,) 
that  she  lived  in  habitual  sin, —  that  sin  which  strikes  at  the  root  of  all  do- 
mestic happiness.  Although  he  could  have  crushed  her  reputation  at  once,  by 
proclaiming  the  truth,  he  only  did  what  his  duty  as  a  clergyman  of  the  Church 
of  England  required  should  be  done.  Dr.  Peabody  was  thus  enabled  to  do 
justice  to  a  character  which  he  delighted  to  honour. 

With  all  his  parochial  cares  and  his  valuable  contributions  to  the  periodi- 
cal literature  of  the  day,  he  found  time  to  cheer  and  brighten  domestic  life  by 
the  play  of  imagination  and  the  sparklings  of  wit.  He  contributed  to  the 
village  newspaper,  which  his  brother*  edited  in  their  earlier  daj^s,  and  once 
drew  up  for  it  a  burlesque  account  of  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration  in  Free- 
town,—  a  fancy  name  of  course.  The  most  humorous  part  being  omitted, 
being  too  like,  Oliver  said,  to  what  actually  took  place  in  their  village,  it  was 
considered  a  true  bill,  and  some  newspaper  sympathy  was  wasted  on  the  ven- 
erable Colonel  Tarbox,  one  of  those  who  fought,  bled  and  died  at  Bunker  Hill. 
<«  It  w  ill  be  gratifying  to  hear  that  the  evening  of  his  life  is  made  comfortable 
by  a  pension  of  a  pistareeu  a  month,  bestowed  by  his  grateful  country." 
This  elicited  sundry  phillipics  on  the  ingratitude  of  republics. 

To  the  friends  of  the  brothers  it  would  seem  as  unnatural  to  speak  of  one 
without  the  other,  as  to  divide  the  Gemini  on  the  celestial  globe.  So  like  in 
person  as  to  be  sometimes  mistaken  for  each  other,  even  by  the  parishioners  and 
children  of  William  Peabody,  they  were  no  less  alike  in  mind  and  feeling.  It 
has  even  been  said  that  both  loved  the  beautiful  woman  of  whom  William  was 
the  successful  wooer.  Oliver  was  William  in  good  spirits;  and  it  was  won- 
derful to  see  how  he  preserved  those  spirits  through  a  long  season  of  uncon- 
genial occupation  and  a  life  of  loneliness.     Yet  his  heart  found  no  rest  till,  like 

*  Oliver  William  Bourn  Peabody,  twin  brother  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  was  grad- 
uated at  Harvard  College  in  1817,  and  subsequently  practised  Law  for  a  number  of  years  in 
Exeter,  N.  H.,  during  which  time  he  edited  the  Rockingham  Gazette  and  ExeterNews  Letter, 
and,  in  1822,  removed  to  Boston,  where  he  co-operated  with  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Alex- 
ander H.  Everett,  in  the  editorship  of  the  North  American  Review.  At  the  same  time,  he 
was,  for  several  years,  assistant  editor  of  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser.  In  1842  he  accepted 
the  Professorship  of  English  literature  in  Jefferson  College,  Louisiana,  hoping  that  his  health 
might  be  benefitted  by  a  residence  in  a  milder  climate.  Failing  in  this  he  returned  to  Boston, 
and,  in  1845,  in  accordance  with  a  long  cherished  desire,  he  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the 
Boston  (Unitarian)  Association.  lie  soon  after  became  the  minister  of  a  congregation  in 
Burlington,  Vt.,  and  continued  in  that  relation  till  his  death,  which  occurred  on  the  5th  of 
July,  1847. 


WILLIAM    BOURN"    OLIVER    PEABODY.  501 

the  wuiulering  sparrow  of  old,  he  made  his  home  '<  at  thine  altar,  0  my  God;" 
and  then  he  seemed  to  compress  more  labour  in  his  eleventh  hour  than  many 
perform  through  Ihe  live -long  day.  While  he  joined  in  the  usual  topics  of 
conversation  with  tlie  greatest  courtesy-,  it  was  observable  that  his  face  only 
brightened,  while  he  spoke  of  the  things  that  belong  to  our  everlasting 
peace, —  of  the  happiness  of  that  service  which  now  made  his  life  dear  to  him. 
The  gentlemen  of  the  University  in  Burlington  recognized  in  him  a  fellow 
labourer,  though  known  by  a  different  name  from  theirs,  and  his  eyes  would 
glisten  while  he  spoke  of  the  Christian  courtesy  they  extended  to  him.  The 
poor  suffering  Catholics,  in  whom  he  had  been  deeply  interested,  followed 
their  friend  to  the  grave  with  tears,  and  his  people  lamented  him  as  with  the 
soriow  of  a  household  bereavement.  His  was  so  true  and  enlarged  a  charity 
that  he  felt,  almost  as  an  injury  to  himself,  any  remarks  directed  against 
those  wliose  religious  o[)inions  differed  from  his  own,  but  whom  he  regarded 
as  true  followers  of  Christ;  and  would  probably  have  answeied,  as  his  brother 
did,  when  asked  to  define  his  religious  sentiments, —  "anti-sectarian." 

It  is  rare  that  two  so  closel}'  united,  so  highly  gifted,  and  so  deeply  la- 
mented, are  thus  called  from  tiieir  earthly  service  in  the  full  maturity  of  life. 
I  love  to  think  of  them  as  they  wer*;  in  the  da3S  of  tlieir  pilgrimage,  and  I 
would  fain  walk  in  the  still  lingering  light  of  their  example,  so  far  as  they 
imitated  our  gracious  and  condescending  Lord. 

Veiy  sincerely'  3'our  friend, 

MARGARET  T.  EMERY. 

FROM  THE  HON.  WILLIAM  B.  CALHOUN, 

MKMBER    OF    CONGRESS,    &C. 

Spkingfikld,  December  25,  1860. 

My  dear  Sir:  The  recollections  of  the  late  Dr.  Peabody,  to  a  brief  account 
of  wliich  you  invite  me,  are  of  a  very  gratifying  character.  I  recur  to  them 
often  with  much  satisfaction.  He  was,  in  ver}'  man}'  respects,  quite  an  uncom- 
mon man; — one,  who  ought  not  to  be  forgotten,  though  it  was  certainly  never 
his  aim  to  do  any  thing  with  a  special  view  to  being  himself  personally 
remembered.  Differing  much  in  our  religious  o|)inions,  especially  in  the  early 
part  of  his  career,  I  jet  always  saw  in  him  the  strongest  evidence  of  great 
purity,  sincerity  and  conscientiousness. 

Rarel}',  I  believe,  has  a  clergyman  ever  acquired  so  entirely  the  affections 
of  his  parishioners  as  in  his  case.  He  came  amongst  them  a  stranger,  but  he 
won  their  hearts  at  once,  without  the  slightest  effort  on  his  part.  Every 
thing  about  Dr.  Peabody  was  natural;  all  affectation  was  evidently  most  repul- 
sive to  him.  This  did  not  arise  from  the  negative  virtue  of  amiableness;  for 
he  had  great  decision,  and  an  unhesitating,  though  quiet,  steadfastness  of 
purpose.  In  his  manners  he  was  exceedingly  unobtrusive,  and  at  the  same 
time  very  affable,  conciliating,  kind  and  courteous.  But  his  manners  alone 
would  never  have  sustained  him  in  tiie  hold  he  had  obtained  on  the  stiong 
attachment  of  his  people.  The  uncommon  resources  of  a  highly  cultivated 
mind  gave  stability  to  his  character,  and  strengthened  the  grasp  the  first  impres- 
sion had  gained  for  him.  His  attainments  were  ver}-  extensive  in  the  whole 
range  of  knowledge.  On  whatever  subject  that  chanced  to  be  made  the  topic 
of  conversation,  he  was  sure  to  shed  light.  His  conversational  powers  were 
of  a  high  order — not  put  forth  with  display;  not  by  assuming  to  lead;  not  by 
changing,  as  many  do,  the  practice  of  conversation  into  the  practice  of  oratory, 
and  making  a  forum  of  the  fireside, — but  by  his  ability  readily  to  draw  upon 
his  well-arranged  resources,  under  the  lead  of  a  memory  of  singular  capacious- 
ness and  tenacity.     He  had  no  mannerism;  no  stock  of  anecdotes,  or  illustra- 


502  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

tions,  or  historical  references,  ever  ready  to  be  artificially  paraded.  What  he 
uttered  was  just  that  which  constituted  the  attraction:  the  utterance  itself 
"Was  far  from  being  always  attractive,  at  least  in  the  meaning  which  the  world 
usually  gives  to  that  term.  Ilis  voice  was  feeble;  and  there  were  peculiarities 
in  the  sounds  of  some  letters,  as  enunciated  by  him,  which  rendered  what  he 
said,  in  and  out  of  the  pulpit,  somewhat  repulsive  to  strangers,  but  to 
strangers  only. 

In  his  pulpit  performances  there  was  nothing  startling  or  commanding;  he 
did  not  captivate  his  auditors,  in  the  proper  sense  of  that  word;  what 
attracted  them  was  the  meekness  and  humbleness  of  his  devotion,  and  a  deep 
and  simple  heartiness  in  the  announcement  of  carefully  matured  thoughts. 
Ilis  mind  was  under  very  effective  and  thorough  discipline,  and  advanced 
steadily  in  the  processes  of  improvement.  lie  read  mucli;  but,  I  think,  he 
studied  more  without  than  with  books.  lie  was  a  very  watchful  observer, 
and  nothing  escaped  liim  without  being  well  understood.  In  the  preparation 
of  his  sermons  he  was  accustomed  to  give  to  his  thoughts  the  finished  dress  he 
intended  for  them,  before  putting  pen  to  paper.  The  mere  writing  of  a  ser- 
mon was  therefore  a  very  brief  operation.  Ilis  great  memory  and  his  mental 
discipline  gave  him  this  important  facility  in  all  his  intellectual  work. 

He  possessed  far  more  than  ordinary  powers  of  imagination  iand  wit;  but 
they  were  subjected  by  him  to  a  very  steady  and  judicious  control.  He 
indulged  himself  less  in  the  writing  of  poetry  than,  from  the  character  of  his 
acknowledged  productions,  might  be  deemed  desirable, —  especially  when  so 
inuch  of  doubtful  pi'etension,  or  rather  of  mere  pretension,  burdens  and  wearies 
the  press  and  the  reader.  Some  of  the  specimens  of  his  poetic  power  are  of  a 
very  high  order,  and  hold  their  place  by  the  side  of  the  best  productions  of 
American  genius.  His  wit  was  very  keen  and  very  significant, — all  the  more 
so  from  the  quietness  and  naturalness  of  its  play.  The  exercise  of  it  was 
known  only  to  those  who  were  familiar  with  him;  for  he  curbed  the  propen- 
sity with  great  strenuousness. 

He  had  many  eminent  qualifications  for  the  office  of  a  Preacher.  He  was  a 
devout  man.  Indeed,  his  soul  was  singularly  attuned  to  devotion.  His  tem- 
perament— so  to  speak — led  him  to  cherish  a  spirit  of  religiousness.  In  his 
bearing  and  demeanour  he  was  grave;  his  personal  appearance  was  imposing; 
and  soberness  of  thought  gieatly  characterized  him.  He  was  comprehensive 
in  all  his  views.  His  mind  was  large;  his  heart  was  large  and  generous.  His 
opinions  of  Christian  truth  were  formed  and  held  by  him  very  independently; 
and  he  modified  tliem,  from  time  to  time,  in  accordance  with  the  deeper  deduc- 
tions of  his  mind,  and  the  increasing  leligiousness  of  his  spirit.  He  was 
unwilling  to  bear  the  baptism  of  any  denomination,  and  often  repudiated  the 
sectarian  name. 

He  had  very  little  of  worldly-mindedness;  and  the  care  of  worldly  things 
did  not  sit  upon  him  at  all  easily.  The  partner  of  his  life  was,  as  he  himself 
called  her,  the  queen  of  his  heart.  And  she  cared  for  him  and  his  with  the 
spirit  and  energy  of  a  true  woman.  When,  in  the  providence  of  God,  she  was 
withdrawn  from  earthly  scenes,  that  cloud  descended  upon  him  which  was 
never  lifted  till  he  him.self  passed  away  under  its  overshadowing.  Remarka- 
ble as  were  the  qualities  which  fitted  Dr.  Peabody  for  his  sacred  functions,  it 
may  yet  be  doubted  whether  this  was,  after  all,  his  appropriate  sphere.  His 
numerous  contributions  to  the  North  American  Review  are  the  index,  as  they 
certainly  are  the  monument,  of  the  man.  His  fine  taste,  his  fondness  for  lit- 
erary pursuits,  his  devotedness  to  study,  and  the  strong  interest  he  felt  in 
various  branches  of  natural  science,  all  point  in  one  direction.  He  was  no 
polemic;  nor  was  he  entirely  at  home  in  what  pertains  strictly  to  the  pastoral 
care.     He  was  a  man  to  be  admired  and  loved  in  any  situation;  but  the  quiet 


WILLIAM    BOURN    OLIVER    PEABODY.  503 

walks  of  literature  were  singularly  adapted  to  his  tastes  and  temperament, 
and  to  whatever  of  ambition  he  possessed,  if  indeed  he  possessed  any. 

Such  is  a  very  condensed  view  of  the  characteristic  traits  of  Dr.  Peabody, 
as  he  rises  up  before  me  now.  I  only  add  that,  in  the  ordinary  intercourse 
of  social  life  in  the  community,  where  his  daj's  were  mostly  passed,  he  was 
held  uniformly  in  the  highest  estimation. 

With  great  and  sincere  respect, 

I  am  your  obedient  servant, 

W.  B.  CALHOUN. 


FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D. 

Springfield,  September  21,  1859. 

My  dear  Brother:  You  are  well  aware  that  the  Society  of  which  Dr.  Pea- 
body  was  Pastor  consisted  originally  of  a  secession  from  my  own,  and  was 
formed  on  the  ground  of  a  difference  of  religious  opinion.  As  the  formation 
of  the  Society  was  both  preceded  and  followed  by  considerable  conflicts  of 
opinion  and  feeling,  which  did  not  immediately  subside,  it  was  not  to  be 
expected  that  the  intercourse  betw,een  myself  and  the  new  Pastor  should  at 
once  become  intimate;  and  yet,  from  the  beginning,  our  relations  were  never 
otherwise  than  friend!}',  and  I  never  had  occasion  to  suspect  him  of  the  least 
depaiture  from  fair  and  honourable  dealing,  even  under  the  greatest  pressure 
of  circumstances.  As  the  asperities  of  controversy  died  away  in  the  sur- 
rounding community,  our  acquaintance  gradually'-  ripened  into  an  intimate 
friendship,  and,  during  much  the  larger  part  of  his  pastorate,  we  were  not 
only  in  the  most  pleasant  and  cordial  relations,  but  were,  in  many  respects, 
mutual  auxiliaries  in  sustaining  and  carrying  forward  many  good  objects  and 
interests. 

Dr.  Peabody  was,  in  early  life,  tall  and  slender  in  form,  though  he  grew 
large  in  his  later  years.  His  countenance  was  naturally  of  a  sedate  cast, 
though  it  had  nothing  of  sternness,  and  easily  relaxed  into  a  pleasant  smile. 
His  manners  were  exceedingly  quiet,  but  kindly  and  affable;  and  his  whole 
demeanour,  both  in  public  and  private,  well  fitted  to  conciliate  regaid.  He 
had  what  j-ou  might  call  a  remarkably  fair  mind;  lie  was  eminently  free  both 
from  prejudice  and  guile;  he  had  a  vein  of  keen  wit,  and  sometimes  used  it  to 
the  amusement  of  his  friends;  but,  I  believe,  never  to  the  injury  of  anybod}-. 
His  spirit  was  uncommonly  gentle  and  refined,  and  was  much  better  adapted 
to  quiet  contemplation  or  to  refined  society  than  to  the  bustle  of  public  life, 
and  especially  the  excitement  and  turmoil  often  attendant  on  religious  contro- 
versy. He  was  singularly  cautious  and  discreet  in  all  his  intercourse,  while 
yet  he  was  as  far  as  possible  from  any  thing  like  disingenuousness  or  finesse. 
His  intellectual  character  may  be  said,  in  rather  an  unusual  degree,  to  have 
taken  on  the  form  of  genius — he  was  ready,  graceful,  inventive,  and  often  very 
striking;  and  many  of  the  productions  of  his  pen,  both  in  poetry  and  in 
pro.se,  attracted  great  attention  in  their  day,  and  have  already  taken  a  prom- 
inent place  in  our  American  literature.  He  wrote  very  extensively  for  several 
periodicals,  especially  the  North  American  Review;  indeed,  if  I  am  correctly 
informed,  he  had,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  contributed  nearly  or  quite  as; 
many  articles  to  this  work  as  any  other  person;  and  this  fact,  of  itself,  formed 
a  most  honourable  testimony  to  liis  intellectual  and  literary  character. 

Dr.  Peabody 's  religious  views  did  not  appear  to  me  to  be  very  clearly 
defined,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  there  were  some  points  of  doctrine 
upon  which  he  thought  it  safer  to  remain  in  doubt  than  to  endeavour  to  reach 
any  very  exact  conclusion.  That  he  did  not  acknowledge  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity   in  our  view  of  it  is  certain;  and  I  am   inclined  to  think  that  th* 


504  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Sabellian  system  Avas  more  in  fovour  Avith  him  than  any  other.  But,  in 
respect  to  the  Atonement,  I  never  could  discover  that  there  was  any  dift'eronce 
between  liis  views  and  my  own — he  seemed  fullj^  and  cordialljr  to  recognize 
the  death  of  Christ  as  the  only  foundation  of  a  sinner's  hope.  I  have  a  decided 
impi-ession  that  his  convictions  on  this  subject  became  stionger,  and  the  gen- 
eral type  of  his  opinions  more  evangelical,  during  the  latter  years  of  his  min- 
istry. 

It  was  my  lot  to  see  Dr.  Peabody  several  times  in  the  furnace  of  affliction. 
I  was  with  him  at  the  time  of  the  death  of  an  infant  child,  of  his  wife,  and  of 
a  grown  up  and  lovely  daughter;  and  in  each  case  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  say 
that  he  behaved  in  a  manner  indicating  the  most  profound  submission  to  God's 
yrill,  and  a  cordial  trust  in  his  providence.  After  the  death  of  his  daughter 
particularly,  and  while  his  heart  was  yet  bleeding  under  the  rod,  he  expressed 
himself  in  legard  to  the  character  and  government  of  God  in  language  that 
seemed  to  me  to  exhibit  the  very  sublimity  of  filial  confidence.  In  each  case 
in  which  death  invaded  his  family,  he  reqested  me  to  perform  the  Funeral  ser- 
vice; and  when,  in  one  instance,  I  intimated  to  him  that  I  supposed  it  might 
be  more  pleasant  to  have  some  one  of  his  friends  from  Boston,  he  replied, — 
"Not  if  you  are  willing  to  officiate."  And  then  added,  with  much  feeling, 
that  his  wife,  already  departed,  had  expressed  a  kindl}'^  estimate  of  my  min- 
istry, and  had  alwa3^s  gladly  attended  upon  it  whenever  their  own  church  was 
closed. 

My  recollections  of  Dr.  Peabody,  as  you  perceive,  are  altogether  of  the  most 
grateful  kind;  and  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  place  them'  on  enduring  record. 
Contrary  to  what  might  have  been  anticipated  from  the  circumstances  under 
which  we  were  originally  brought  together,  we  became  cordial  and  confiding 
frieiids;  and  though,  to  the  last,  I  doubt  not  that  he  held  some  views  that  I 
deemed  erroneous,  and  against  which  I  should  enter  an  earnest  protest,  I  can 
truly  say  that  I  was  a  hearty  mourner  at  his  death,  and  am  still  glad  to  do 
any  thing  in  honour  of  his  memory. 

Affectionately  yours, 

S.  OSGOOD. 


JOHN  BRAZER,  D.  D. 

1820—1846 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  GILMAN,  D.  D. 

CiiAELESTON,  S.  C.  December  8.  1848. 

My  dear  Sir :  You  ask  me  to  contribute  to  your  work  some  recollections 
of  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Jolin  Brazen.  My  acquaintance  with  that  gentleman 
commenced  in  1817,  wlien  we  were  associated  in  the  Faculty  of  govern- 
ment and  instruction  at  Harvard  University;  for,  although  we  had  been,  for 
BOme  time,  undergraduates  together,  yet,  preceding  him  in  college  standing 
by  two  years,  I  have  no  very  distinct  reminiscence  of  his  person  or  char- 
acter during  that  period,  except  of  the  undisputed  pre-eminence  in  schol- 
arship which  he  had  among  his  class. 

John  Brazer  was  b(>rn  in  Worcester,  IMass,,  about  the  year  1787,  and 
cherished,  from  his  tcndcrest  youth,  a  strong  passion  for  learning  ;  but, 


JOHN    BRAZER.  505 

the  circumstances  of  liis  fuinily  not  permitting  him  to  share  the  advantages 
of  a  liberal  education  at  as  early  an  age  as  most  of  his  contemporaries,  he 
was  compelled  to  engage  in  mercantile  pursuits  until  the  period  of  his  ma- 
jority. Then,  with  scarcely  any  pecuniary  resources,  he  indulged  tlie  irre- 
sistible bent  of  his  inclination  ;  prepared  for  Harvard  University  in  an  in- 
credibly short  time,  entered  that  institution  with  brilliant  success,  led  the 
van  of  scholarship  in  a  class  of  considerable  magnitude,  and  graduated 
with  the  first  honour  in  the  year  1813.  He  was  afterwards  accustomed  to 
express  his  wonder  how  he  had  ever  been  able  to  complete  his  college 
course,  since,  at  its  close,  he  found  himself  indebted  to  his  friends  for  nearly 
all  the  expenses  of  his  education. 

He  was  appointed  Latin  Tutor  in  the  University  one  year  before  taking 
his  regular  Master's  degree.  In  1817  Levi  Frisbie,  a  name  dear  to  the 
scliolars  of  his  own  generation,  and  even  now,  descending,  gratefully  em- 
balmed, and  with  a  freshness  scarcely  at  all  impaired,  to  those  of  the 
succeeding,  relinquished  the  Latin  Professorship,  which  had  itself  been 
instituted  with  express  reference  to  his  eminent  personal  merits.  He  was 
Iraii.-fencd  to  the  new  chair  of  Alford  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy, 
wliich,  for  five  years  preceding  his  death,  he  adorned  with  a  felicity  of 
!ni;i!\.'«is,  and  a  charm  of  eloquence,  rarely  surpassed.  Mr.  Brazer  became 
tin-  iiiiiiiediate  successor  of  Professor  Frisbie  in  the  Latin  chair.  On  my 
inilianci',  about  that  time,  upon  a  different  department  of  instruction,  he 
woKoiued  me  with  a  ready  warmth  of  intimacy,  which  continued  to  in- 
croasc  dining  the  remainder  of  our  academical  joint  career,  and  was  never 
iiilernipted  save  by  the  wide  separation  of  our  respective  spheres  of  labour, 
and  finally  by  his  death  in  South  Carolina  in  1846. 

Mr.  Brazer 's  earlier  determination  was  for  the  profession  of  the  Law. 
He  devoted,  I  think,  the  three  years,  after  receiving  his  first  degree,  to  a 
preparation  for  its  duties.  But,  induced,  as  I  have  heard  him  remark, 
jirincipally  by  the  advice  and  persuasion  of  President  Kirkland,  he  resolved 
on  commencing  the  study  of  Theology  with  a  view  to  the  sacred  desk. 
Every  circumstance  concurred  to  admit  of  a  very  leisurely  prosecution  of 
his  newly  chosen  pursuit.  He  had  just  entered  on  a  somewhat  kindred 
situation,  of  commanding  literary  eminence,  as  well  as  of  immediate  and 
palpable  usefulness.  His  uncommon  abilities  and  brilliant  reputation 
seemed  to  secure  him,  in  advance,  the  choice  of  any  eligible  vacancies  that 
might  occur  in  the  neighbouring  pulpits.  The  Libraries  of  the  University 
presented  large  opportunities  for  the  indulgence  of  his  literary  tastes, 
while  society,  both  in  Cambridge  and  in  Boston,  lent  its  highest  attrac- 
tions to  his  genial  disposition. 

He  threw  himself  with  ardour  on  this  stream  of  splendid  advantages 
which  Providence  rolled  at  his  feet.  He  grasped  ambitiously  at  a  very  wide 
extent  of  mental  cultivation.  Classical  Literature,  Philology,  History, 
Poetry  and  Philosophy,  divided  but  not  distracted  the  attention  which  he 
duteously  paid  to  Theology.  If  the  old  Entrance-Records  of  the  Univer- 
sity Librarian  are  still  in  existence,  and  accessible  to  the  curious  in  such 
matters,  the  books  detained  at  any  given  time  by  Mr.  Brazer  would  be 
found  unprecedented  in  number  and  variety,  indicating  the  multifarious 
nature   of  his   pursuits.      His  favourite   method  of   study,   however,  was 


506  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

rather  the  thorough  investigation  of  subjects  than  the  copious  perusal  of 
volumes.  His  examination  of  every  matter  that  came  before  liim  was 
faithful  and  profound,  his  conception  of  it  distinct  and  vivid.  Altliough 
mostly  inclined  to  ethical  and  metaphysical  speculations,  yet  he  was  famili- 
arly acquainted  with  the  new  discoveries  in  Physical  Philosoph}/,  and  I  well 
remember,  for  instance,  the  accuracy  and  fulness  with  which  he  explained 
to  the  uninitiated  the  then  recent  researches  of  chemists  into  the  polarity 
of  ligiit.  All  who  were  at  any  time  his  pupils  iu  the  Latin  department, 
■will  agree,  I  think,  with  me  in  ascribing  to  him  a  perfection  of  taste,  and  a 
ripeness  of  scholarship,  which  left  nothing  to  be  desired  in  that  range  of 
his  duty. 

His  passionate  avidity  for  acquiring  and  digesting  information,  together 
■with  the  arduous  demands  of  his  office,  precluded  i^Ir.  Brazer,  at  this  period, 
from  any  elaborate  exercises  in  composition.  The  North  American  Re- 
view, then  in  its  infancy,  was  the  nursery  where  the  rising  talent  of  the 
country  fledged  its  adventurous  power;  but  if  he  were  the  author  of  any 
of  its  articles,  while  a  teacher  in  the  University,  the  fact  was  eitlier  never 
known  to  me,  or  it  has  faded  from  my  memory.  He  was  engaged  in  de- 
positing large  stores  in  his  mind,  to  be  brought  forth  at  subsequent  oppor- 
tunities. I  remember,  however,  his  employing  his  pen  with  much  felicity 
on  one  occasion,  as  an  act  of  devoted  reverence  and  friendship.  Both  the 
parties  concerned  being  now  at  repose  in  the  grave,  no  confidence  will  be 
violated  by  referring  to  the  circumstance,  even  if  it  was  entrusted  to  me  as 
a  secret, —  a  fact  of  which  I  am  not  aware.  Professor  Hedge,  who  united 
to  a  rigorous  discharge  and  exaction  of  duty  a  childlike  amiableness  of 
disposition,  all  of  which  combined  to  secure  him  the  life-long  respect  and 
love  of  every  one  of  his  pupils,  war,  on  the  eve  of  publishing  his  Treatise  on 
Logic.  Desirous  of  introducing  it  to  tlie  world  by  a  compact  and  grace- 
ful preface,  he  applied  for  assistance  to  Professor  Brazer,  his  recent  pupil, 
who  readily  afforded  it.  That  portion  of  the  volume  was  accordingly  writ- 
ten by  him.  It  presents  a  neat  sketch  of  the  merits  and  defects  of  pre- 
ceding systems  of  Logic,  and  points  out  the  distinguishing  aims  of  the  work 
thus  ushered  into  notice.  This  anecdote  illustrates,  better  than  a  laboured 
paragraph  could  do,  the  elevated  standing  held  by  Mr.  Brazer  among  those 
■who  were  best  acquainted  with  his  powers,  accomplishments  and  obliging 
disposition. 

Mr.  Brazer  was  one  of  the  chief  agents  in  effecting  a  transition  from  the 
severe  and  ceremonial  academical  government  of  the  olden  time  to  an  inter- 
course with  the  pujiils  more  courteous  and  winning,  which  should  inspire 
them  with  immediate  love  and  regard,  instead  of  constraining  their  respect 
and  awe.  He  was  the  bosom  friend  of  Dr.  Kirkland,  at  that  time  the 
beloved  Head  of  the  institution,  ■whose  very  presence,  it  has  been  happily 
said,  was  a  benediction,  and  whose  maxims  of  government  leaned  altogether 
on  the  indulgent  side.  Besides  being  the  idol  of  his  equals  in  age,  and  the 
delight  of  the  old.  Dr.  Kirkland  was  remarkable  for  seeking  and  securing 
the  friendship  of  young  men  with  as  Tuuch  zest  as  if  he  himself  had  been 
still  in  the  morning  of  life.  His  intimacy  with  Mr.  Brazer  was  indulged 
to  an  uncommon  extent,  insomuch  that  he  would  receive  advice,  and  even 
rebukes,  from  him,  which  he  would  not  willingly  endure  from  many  other 


JOHN    BRAZER.  507 

men.  Heartily  and  successfully  did  these  two  friends  concur  in  acliieving 
a  revolution  to  a  blander  and  more  natural  order  of  things  than  had  for- 
merly n)arked  the  intercourse  between  the  Faculty  and  their  pupils.  Per- 
hiips  the  new  policy  verged  sometimes  to  an  untoward  opposite  extreme. 
Paternal  benignity  was  the  desiderated  happy  medium  ;  but  the  critical 
experiment  of  treating  altogether  as  "gentlemen"  lads  who  had  not  yet 
oven  arrived  at  that  nice  stage  of  physiological  development,  was  produc- 
tivcj  as  it  always  will  be,  of  some  disconcerting  conjunctures. 

Personally,  however,  Mr.  Brazer  experienced  little  or  no  inconvenience 
from  his  indulgent  princijjles  of  administration.  It  is  well  known  that  to 
each  class  in  College  was  assigned  a  particular  Tutor,  who  was  understood 
to  be  the  special  adviser  and  friend  of  its  members,  individually  and  collec- 
tively considered.  This  arrangement  was  irrespective  of  his  allotted  branch 
of  instruction.  The  custom  is  very  probably  still  observed.  A  relation 
like  this  almost  invariably  produced  a  warm  attachment  between  the  par- 
tics,  amuuntiiif  sometimes  to  a  romantic  or  fantastic  sort  of  fondness.  Mr. 
Brazer  continued  to  sustain  the  same  position  to  his  class  after  he  was 
apjuiinted  Professor;  and  I  presume  that  no  class  ever  carried  the  feeling 
of  adoration  for  their  Tutor  quite  to  the  extent  which  was  manifested  by 
these  young  men  to  their's. 

Notwithstanding  these  fervent  academical  labours  and  studies,  he  yielded 
himself  liberally  to  the  relaxations  of  social  enjoyment.  Two  or  three 
times  in  the  week,  he  was  expected  to  grace  the  evening  parties  in  Boston, 
but  surrendered  to  them  no  more  of  his  time  or  attention  than  was  suffi- 
cient to  bring  him  back  with  fresh  elasticity  to  his  books.  Vividly  also  on 
my  memory  descend  I  hose  glorious  Sunday  evenings,  when  he  regularly 
met,  at  the  President's  house,  his  brethren  of  the  Faculty,  with  other  gen- 
tlemen of  the  neighbourhood,  and  engaged  in  those  discussions  on  subjects 
of  profound  interest  and  importance,  which  the  all-suggesting  mind  of  our 
accomplished  host  at  once  challenged  and  guided.  More  pleasant  still  is 
the  remembrance  of  those  Saturday  evening  or  Sunday  morning  excursions, 
which  he  sometimes  made  with  me  to  the  surrounding  towns,  passing  his 
Sabbaths  there  when  I  preached  as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry,  and 
favouring  me  with  the  benefit  of  his  friendly  criticisms  and  advice.  In  his 
conversation  there  was  a  brilliancy  and  fascination  with  which  few  are 
ever  gifted.  He  coupled  exceeding  fluency  with  an  exquisite  choice  of 
expression,  and  his  words  rolled  out  from  his  flexible  organs  of  speech, 
like  glistening  coin  from  an  affluent  mint.  His  person  was  small  but  finely 
turned  and  moulded,  and  on  whatever  was  said  or  done  by  him  a  natural 
grace  attended.  In  all  his  tastes  he  was  fastidious  and  epicurean,  acutely 
sufl'ering  from  the  slightest  real  or  imaginary  neglect,  and  betraying  some- 
thing for  friendship  to  forgive,  which,  indeed,  he  could  fairly  claim,  as  his 
own  heart  was  itself  loving  and  forgiving. 

But  the  secluded  shades  of  ficademic  life  could  not  long  detain  him. 
Repassed  through  their  attractive  accompaniments  towards  his  sacred  des- 
tination, and  a  closer  contact  with  practical  life.  In  1820  he  accepted  an 
invitation  to  the  Pastorship  of  the  North  Church  in  Salem,  Mass.,  one  of 
the  most  prominent  ecclesiastical  stations  in  the  Commonwealth,  and  about 
the  same  time  declined  a  call  from  the  then  new  Unitarian  Church  in  New 


508  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

York.  His  immediate  predecessor,  John  Emery  Abbot,  a  finely  endowed 
and  lovely  spirit,  had  acquired  an  enviable  celebrity  in  the  churches  by  a 
short  but  remarkable  life;  and,  therefore,  the  satisfaction  of  the  conf^re- 
gation  with  the  new  connection  indicated  well  the  high  standing  and  pro- 
mise of  his  successor.  Dr.  Brazer  (for  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Divinity  from  Harvard  College  in  1836)  laboured  with  uninteruiitting 
assiduity  till  tlie  close  of  his  life.  His  predominant  object  and  aim  were 
to  conduct  with  acceptance  and  spiritual  profit  the  immediate  offices  of  his 
church.  A  few  productions,  the  result  of  occasional  intervals  from  Iiis 
more  regular  occupations,  appeared,  from  time  to  time,  in  the  most  respect. 
able  periodicals.  As  an  unquestionable  testimony  to  his  literary  ability, 
a  notable  anecdote  may  here  be  properly  recorded.  Having,  a  few  years 
ago,  published  two  elaborate  and  interesting  articles  in  the  Christian  Exam- 
iner on  '<  Ancient  Modes  of  Burial  of  the  Dead,"  a  subject  which  is  every 
day  growing  more  practical  and  popular  in  our  country,  he  discovered,  a 
year  or  two  after,  that  the  whole  of  those  articles,  word  for  word,  with  all 
their  quotations,  which  had  cost  him  months  of  primary  research,  and  all 
their  adorning  illustrations,  which  were  furnished  by  his  fine  and  fertile 
genius,  had  been  transferred,  without  acknowledgment,  as  an  original 
paper,  to  the  pages  of  some  British  periodical, — an  organ,  I  think,  of  the 
Church  of  England.  The  circumstance  was  generally  mentioned  at  the 
time  by  the  American  press,  but  the  name  of  Dr.  Brazer,  as  connected 
with  it,  may  have  escaped  attention  or  remembrance.  The  latest  of  his 
literary  efforts,  published  during  liis  life  time,  was,  I  believe,  a  review  of 
Mill's  remarkable  Treatise  on  Logic, — a  work  which,  I  need  not  say,  found 
an  adequate  critic  in  Dr.  Brazer. 

The  object,  however,  of  his  higliest  literary  ambition  was  the  reputation 
of  a  profound,  accomplished  and  impressive  sermonizer  ; — an  object  which 
he  achieved  and  sustained  to  the  last,  according  to  tlie  warmest  wish  of  his 
heart.  Not  only  did  all  those  who  attended  his  ministrations  acknowledge 
that,  while  his  language  enchained  their  attention,  his  thoughts  stirred  up 
within  them  the  deepest  and  niost  sacred  principles  of  their  being,  but  it 
was  also  regarded  as  a  privilege,  by  his  clerical  brethren,  at  the  Ordina- 
tions of  ministers  and  other  occasional  solemnities,  to  listen  to  his  striking 
and  comprehensive  expositions  of  doctrine  and  of  duty.  His  mind  was  imbued 
with  the  highest  style  of  scholarship  and  of  thinking  incident  to  the  present 
century.  His  spirit  brooded  over  a  subject  with  a  kind  of  plastic  power, 
moulded  it  into  shape,  gave  it,  as  it  were,  an  organic  life,  called  out  its 
interior  essence,  and  brought  its  relations  and  proportions  into  full  yet  com- 
pact view,  until  it  stood  forth  an  individual,  living  whole.  Look,  for  an 
illustration  of  this  criticism,  at  his  published  essay  on  the  Apparent  Dark- 
ness of  God's  Providence  ;  or  that  on  the  Efficacy  of  Prayer  ;  or  that  on 
the  Influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  or  that  on  the  Ancient  Cemeteries  ;  or 
his  Discourse  at  Mr.  Cole's  Ordination.  The  first  of  these,  on  Providence, 
is  one  of  the  few  I  have  ever  known,  which,  like  Dewey's  on  Death,  or 
Robert  Hall's  on  Infidelity,  or  Beecher's  Discourses  on  Intemperance,  or 
Channing's  Dudleian  Lecture,  exert  on  the  reader  a  telling  and  palpable 
effect.  I  have  frequently  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  the  children  of  afflic 
tion  and  adversity,  who  have  confessed  that  its  perusal  acted  like  a  charm 


JOHN    BRAZER.  609 

on  their  bewildered  spirits,  and  restored  them  to  the  calmness  and  the  light 
for  which  they  had  been  struggling  in  vain.  A  posthumous  volume  of  his 
discourses  has  just  appeared  in  Boston,  which  I  have  not  yet  seen. 

Dr.  Brazer's  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  the  extreme  of  simplicity,  avoid- 
ing, generally,  even  the  aid  of  a  gesture,  and  depending  chiefly  for  its 
eff"ect  on  the  weight  and  pertinence  of  his  matter,  and  the  power  of  his  fine 
and  impressive  enunciation.  In  short,  he  must  be  ranked,  by  a  discerning 
posterity,  among  the  most  eminent  lights  of  the  Boston  clergy,  both  the 
proximity  of  his  station,  and  the  wealth,  refinement,  and  cultivation  of  his 
flock,  placing  him  in  the  catalogue  and  predicament  of  that  distinguished 
body  of  men.  Owing,  probably,  to  the  very  exacting  requirements  of 
their  position,  numbers  from  this  clerical  circle  died  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  many  more,  like  the  friend  I  am  commemorating,  lingered,  it  is  true, 
until  a  later  period,  but  were  prematurely  summoned  away,  without  round- 
ing and  filling  their  apparent  eartlily  destiny.  In  liis  case,  the  catastrophe 
was  no  doubt  hastened  by  tlie  loss,  a  few  years  previous,  of  his  wife,  one 
of  the  noblest  daughters  of  New  England,  and  who  had  long  shared  with 
him  the  task  of  unusual  attentions  to  the  poor  in  their  vicinity.  His  fail- 
ing health,  which  now,  more  than  ever,  required  her  tender  care,  was  itself 
burdened  with  double  responsibilities  at  home  and  abroad,  and  the  wound, 
thus  aggravated,  never  entirely  ceased  its  throbbitigs  until  they  were 
quieted  in  death. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1846,  after  having  contended  long  with  an 
inveterate  disease,  he  visited  South  Carolina,  in  company  with  one  of  his 
sons,  who  was  then  a  student  in  Harvard  College.  One  of  Dr.  Brazer's 
early  friends  and  classmates.  Dr.  Benjamin  Huger,  had  urged  him  to  ex- 
change for  a  season  the  searching  snows  and  winds  of  the  North  for  his 
own  hospitable  residence  at  a  pbintation  on  Cooper  River.  How  beautiful 
is  this  influence  of  academical  institutions,  that  they  thus  weave  around 
congenial  souls  a  chainwork  of  aff'ection  and  attachn)ent,  which  often  seems 
to  gather  strength,  in  spite  of  the  changing  hair,  or  distance  of  abode,  or 
difference  in  pursuits,  relations  and  cherished  principles  !  Dr.  Brazer 
tarried  a  few  days  in  Charleston  on  his  way  to  the  residence  of  his  friend. 
Here  he  revived  a  few  ancient  intimacies,  and  acquired  a  few  (but  how 
brief!)  friendships.  Although  yielding  daily  to  his  encroaching  disorder, 
he  seemed  more  anxious  that  his  son  should  enjoy  the  full  benefit  and 
pleasure  of  the  tour,  than  that  he  himself  should  be  relieved  from  sufi'ering. 
He  attended  religious  worship  at  the  church  where  I  ofiiciate,  and,  with 
weeping  sensibility,  partook  of  the  memorials  at  the  Lord's  Supper.  His 
constitution  was  so  palpably  shattered  that  I  had  avoided  oppressing  him 
with  a  request  to  take  any  part  in  the  services.  He  afterwards  repeatedly 
reproached  himself  for  not  volunteering  to  assist  me,  and  said, —  "  Oh  ! 
why  did  I  not  at  least  come  forward,  and  utter  something  by  your  side  afc 
the  table  ?  "  It  would  have  been  wrong,  however,  to  expect  even  so  slight 
an  effort,  and  his  physicians  had  forbidden  every  thing  like  public  speaking 
in  his  existing  state  of  debility.  I  therefore  soothed  him  by  promising 
that  I  would  rely  on  his  assistance  at  his  return  in  the  spring.  He  de- 
parted for  the  plantation  with  some  apparent  cheerfulness  and  elasticity  of 
spirit,  but  indulging,  I  think,  scarcely  any  hope.     The  inroads  of  his  dis- 


510  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

order,  instead  of  being  delayed  by  change  of  scene,  became  fearfully  rapid. 
For  a  brief  interval,  liis  sinking  powers  rallied  in  response  to  affecting  at- 
tentions and  hospitalities,  which  were  poured  in  upon  him  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood around.  Even  the  last  quivering  flames,  that  shot  up  from  the  ex- 
piring taper,  revealed  to  attendant  strangers  the  lustre  of  his  social  and 
conversational  qualities.  But  the  destroyer  was  close  in  at  his  work. 
IMedieal  skill  and  assiduous  attention  were  lavished  in  vain,  and  on  the  next 
Monthly  CouimuTiion  Day,  after  he  had  worshipped  in  my  Church,  I  preached 
an  Obituary  Discourse  on  his  life  and  character,  in  presence  of  a  number 
of  his  ancient  friends  and  classmates,  accompanied  by  others  who  had  been 
inspired  with  a  melancholy  interest  in  his  person  and  destiny. 

Dr.  Brazer  was  married  in  April,  1821,  to  Anne  Warren,  a  daughter  of 
William  and  Mary  (Chandler)  Sever,  of  Worcester.  They  had  five  chil- 
dren, all  of  whom  survived  their  father.  Mrs.  Brazer  died  on  the  30th  of 
January,  1843. 

The  following  is,  I  believe,  a  correct  list  of  Dr.  Brazer's  publications: — 
A  Discourse  })efore  the  Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Christian  Education 
in  Harvard  University,  1825.  A  Discourse  at  the  Interment  of  Edward 
Augustus  Holyoke,  M.  D.  LL,  D.,  1829.  Power  of  Unitarianism  over  the 
Affections,  (a  Tract  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association,  1st  series,  No. 
27,)  1829.  A  Discourse  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Cole,  at 
Kingston,  1829.  Biographical  Memoir  of  Edward  Augustus  Holyoke, 
(appended  to  a  collection  of  his  writings,)  1830.  A  Sermon  on  the  Value 
of  the  Public  P^xercises  of  our  Religion,  (Liberal  Preacher,  New  Series, 
Vol.  I,  No.  2,)  1832.  The  Efficacy  of  Prayer,  (in  the  Unitarian  Advo- 
cate,) 1832.  A  Discourse  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Andrew  Bigelow, 
1833.  A  Review  of  the  Argument  in  support  of  Natural  Religion : 
Dudleian  Lecture,  1835,  Duty  and  Privilege  of  an  Active  Benevolence  : 
Address  before  the  Seamen's  Widow  and  Orphan  Association,  1835.  Essay 
on  the  Doctrine  of  Divine  Influence  on  the  Human  Soul,  1835.  Lesson 
of  the  Past:  A  Sermon  on  the  Anniversary  of  his  Ordination,  1837.  In- 
troduction to  "A  Good  Life,"  by  Thomas  Wright,  1837.  The  Present 
Darkness  of  God's  Providence  :  a  Sermon,  1841.  A  Discourse  on  the 
Death  of  the  Hon.  Benjamin  Pickman,  1843.  Notice  of  a  "Collection 
of  Hymns  for  the  Christian  Church  and  Home,"  by  the  Rev.  James  Flint, 
(in  the  Monthly  Miscellany,)  1843.  A  Discourse  on  the  Life  and  Char- 
acter of  the  Hon.  Leverett  Saltonstall,  with  Biographical  Notices,  1845. 
A  Volume  of  Sermons,  with  a  Memoir  published  after  his  death,  1849. 
Besides,  Dr.  Brazer  was  a  frequent  contributor  to  the  North  American 
Review  and  the  Christian  Examiner,  and  it  has  been  thought  that  some  of 
these  articles  displayed  more  culture,  learning  and  ability  than  any  of  his 
separate  publications. 

When,  nearly  thirty  years  ago,  I  left  the  Tutorship  in  Harvard  College 
for  my  present  field  of  labour,  my  friend  put  into  my  hand,  as  a  parting 
testimonial,  a  neat  Elzevir  edition  of  Juvenal  and  Persius, —  inscribing  in 
it,  beneath  his  name,  the  affectionate  injunction  from  the  close  of  the  third 
Satire,  vale,  Twstri  memor.  I  complied  with  it  faithfully  while  he  lived,  and 
now  that  he  is  dead,  I  am  glad  that  you  have  conferred  on  me  the  singularly 
coincident,  unexpected  and  grateful  privilege  of  rendering  it  a  more  fixed 
and  outstanding  obedience.        Yours  with  all  regard,        S.  GILMAN. 


WILLIAM    AVARE.  511 


WILLIAM  WARE  * 

1820—1852. 

William  Ware  was  born  at  Hingham,  Mass.,  on  the  3d  of  August, 
1797.  His  father,  the  Rev.  Henry  Ware,  D.  D.,  was,  at  that  time,  the 
minister  of  the  Congregational  Society  in  tliat  phice,  and  his  mother,  Mary 
Clark,  was  a  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Jonas  Clark,  of  Lexington.  Dr.  Ware, 
being  chosen  in  1805  to  the  Hollis  Professorship  of  Divinity  in  Harvard 
College,  removed  to  Cambridge.  His  son  William  was  fitted  for  College, 
partly  at  Cambridge,  under  the  instruction  of  liis  cousin,  the  Hon.  Ashur 
Ware,  afterwards  Judge  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
District  of  Maine,  and  partly  under  that  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  AUyn,  of  Dux- 
bury.     He  entered  College  in  1812,  and  was  graduated  in  1816. 

The  next  year  after  his  graduation  he  spent  at  Hingham,  as  an  assistant 
in  a  scliool  to  the  Rev.  Henry  Colman,  Dr.  Ware's  successor  in  the  minis- 
try in  that  place  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  was  prosecuting  theological  studies 
under  Mr.  Colman,  of  whose  family  he  was  an  inmate.  The  next  three 
years  he  spent  at  Cambridge,  still  engaged  in  the  study  of  his  profession, 
but,  being  employed,  during  part  of  the  time,  in  teaching  the  town  school, 
and  subsequently  as  assistant  to  Mr.  Norton,  who  was  then  the  College 
Librarian.  He  commenced  preaching  in  1820,  performing  his  first  public 
services  at  Northborough  ;  and,  from  this  time,  he  was  constantly  engaged 
in  the  labours  of  his  vocation,  preaching  in  various  places,  principally,  how- 
ever, in  Rrooklyn,  Conn.,  Burlington,  Vt.,  and  the  city  of  New  York.  In 
the  two  last  mentioned  places  he  was  invited  to  settle,  and  he  actually 
accepted  a  call  from  New  York,  and  was  ordained  as  Pastor  of  the  first 
Unitarian  church  ever  established  in  that  city,  (then  worshiping  in  Cham- 
bers Street,)  on  the  18th  of  December,  1821.  His  labours  in  New  York 
were  very  arduous,  as  there  was  no  Unitarian  clergyman  in  the  city,  or 
indeed  in  the  whole  region,  from  whom  he  could  receive  occasional  assist- 
ance. 

In  March,  1836,  he  commenced,  in  the  Knickerbocker  Magazine,  the 
publication  of  the  "  Letters  from  Palmyra,"  which  subsequently  appeared 
iu  a  volume  under  the  title  of  "Zeuobia."  In  October  of  the  same  year, 
he  resigned  his  charge,  and  removed  to  Brookline,  Mass.,  where  he  passed 
the  ensuing  winter,  dividing  his  time  between  preaching  and  completing 
the  work  just  referred  to.  In  June,  1837,  he  removed  to  Waltham,  hav- 
ing accepted  an  invitation  from  the  Second  Congregational  Church  in  that 
place  to  supply  their  pulpit.  Here  he  continued  till  April,  1838,  when 
the  church  to  which  he  had  temporarily  ministered  was  united  with  the 
older  church  in  that  place,  then  under  the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Ripley.  Mr.  Ware  then  removed  to  Jamaica  Plain,  where  he  purchased 
a  small  farm,  on  which  he  indulged  his  rural  tastes,  preaching  frequently, 
though  without  any  stated  charge.  A  part  of  his  time  also  he  devoted  to 
writing  the  sequel   of  Zenobia,  (now  known  as   "  Aurelian,")  which  was 

*  Christian  Examiner,  VoL  52. —  Ms.  from  Dr.  John  Ware. 


512  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

publislied  under  the  title  of  "  Probus,"  in  June,  1838.  About  this  time, 
he  became  the  proprietor  and  editor  of  the  Cluistiau  Examiner,  which 
remained  in  his  liands  until  1844.  In  July,  1839,  he  removed  to  Cam- 
bridge, and  besides  his  editorial  labours,  was  engaged  in  the  preparation 
of  a  new  work  of  fiction,  a  part  of  which  appeared  in  the  Christian  Exam- 
iner, and  was  subsequently  published  under  the  title  of  "  Julian  :  or  Scenes 
of  Judea,"  in  two  volumes,  in  October,  1841. 

In  January,  1844,  having  terminated  his  connection  with  the  Christian 
Examiner,  Mr.  Ware  received  and  accepted  an  invitation  to  the  pastoral 
care  of  tiie  Unitarian  Churcli  in  West  Cambridge.  Hoping  to  make  this 
Lis  permanent  home,  he  built  a  cottage  oi»  the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Meno- 
toniy  Pond  ;  but  a  deep  shadow  quickly  fell  upon  his  bright  prospects.  In 
November  o'f  the  same  year  he  was  attacked  with  a  disease,  which  at  first 
seemed  of  a  dubious  character,  but  afterwards  proved  to  be  epilepsy.  He 
continued  to  preach  for  a  short  time  after  this,  but,  in  July  following,  as 
the  disease  was  evidently  making  progress,  he  felt  constrained  to  desist 
from  public  speaking,  and  to  resign  his  pastoral  charge.  In  November, 
1845,  he  returned  to  Cambridge,  and  there  made  his  home  during  the  resi- 
due of  his  life.  After  this,  his  health  improved  considerably,  so  that,  in 
1847,  he  engaged  in  the  Ministry  at  Large  in  Boston,  and  continued  thus 
employed  for  about  a  year.  He  had  long  cherished  the  desire  and  pur- 
pose of  visiting  Europe  ;  and,  as  circumstances  seemed  now  to  favour  it,  he 
sailed  for  Leghorn  in  April,  1848.  He  was  absent  somewhat  more  than  a 
year,  passing  most  of  his  time  in  Italy,  and  chiefly  in  Florence  and  Eome, 
to  which,  as  a  student  of  antiquity  and  a  lover  of  art,  he  was  specially 
attracted.  On  his  return,  he  prepared  a  course  of  lectures,  embracing 
the  most  important  results  of  his  observation  during  his  residence  in  Italy, 
which  he  delivered  in  Boston,  New  York,  and  some  other  places  in  the 
winter  of  1849-50.  In  1851  these  lectures  were  published  in  a  single 
volume,  entitled  "  Sketches  of  I]aropean  Capitals."  During  the  summer 
of  this  year,  he  was  occupied  in  (he  preparation  of  a  course  of  lectures  on 
the  "  Works  and  Genius  of  Wa.sliington  AUston."  But,  just  as  his  arrange- 
ments for  delivering  them  in  Boston  were  completed,  he  was  suddenly  pros- 
trated by  the  disease  to  which,  for  many  years,  he  had  been  subject,  and 
he  never  recovered  from  the  attack.  The  lectures,  however,  were  subse- 
quently published.  He  died  after  an  illness  of  nine  days,  during  which  he 
lay  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  on  the  19th  of  February,  1852. 

In  addition  to  the  volumes  already  noticed,  Mr.  Ware  published  a  Com- 
munion Sermon,  1825.  Three  Sermons  on  Unitarian  Christianity,  1828. 
A  Sermon  on  Worldly-IMindedness,  in  the  Liberal  Preacher,  1829  ;  and 
a  Memoir  of  Nathaniel  Bacon,  in  the  13th  volume  of  Sparks'  American 
Biography.  In  1827  he  edited  "The  Unitarian,"  a  small  periodical  pub- 
lished in  New  York.  He  was  also,  for  many  years,  a  frequent  contributor 
to  the  columns  of  tlie  Christian  Register. 

In  1823  Mr.  Ware  w:i^  married  to  Mary,  daughter  of  Dr.  Benjamin 
Waterhouse,  of  Cambridge,  wlio  still  (1861)  survives.  He  left  two  sons 
and  two  daughters.  The  eldest  child  (a  son)  is  a  lawyer,  and  the  youngest 
is  now  passing  through  his  course  in  Harvard  College, 


WILLIAM   WARE.  513 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  ALLEN,  D.  D. 

NORTUBOROUGH,  Mass.,  December  8,  1862. 

My  dear  Friend  :  In  reply  to  your  requCvSt  for  my  recollections  of  my  brother- 
in-law,  William  Ware,  I  liave  to  say  that  I  fitted  him  for  College,  and  my  con- 
nection with  the  family  brought  me  into  intimate  relations  with  him,  though,  on 
account  of  his  more  distant  residence,  not  so  intimate  as  with  his  brotlier  Henry. 
He  was  uncommonly  diffident  and  self  distrustful,  greatly  underrating  his 
powers,  and  never  doing  himself  justice  in  his  public  performances.  He  had 
more  genius,  as  I  think  his  writings  show,  than  liis  brother,  but  fell  far  below 
him  as  a  pulpit  orator  and  a  parish  minister;  thougli,  in  this  respect,  he  was 
judged  much  more  favourably  by  the  public,  and  especially  by  his  stated 
hearers,  and  those  who  knew  him  best,  than  by  himself.  To  strangers  he 
appeared  somewliat  cold  and  distant,  but  to  those. who  knew  him  and  were 
intimate  with  him,  he  was  warm-hearted  and  genial, — a  most  deliglitful  com- 
panion, whose  conversation  was  sprightly  and  replete  with  wisdom  and  wit. 

Mr.  Ware  was  slow  in  coming  to  maturity;  and  in  college  rank  he  stood 
below  many  whom  he  afterwards  greatly  excelled  in  scholarship  and  fame. 
His  health  broke  down  in  the  midst  of  his  honours  and  usefulness,  and  his 
early  death  prevented  him  from  attaining  to  that  eminence  as  a  scholar  and  a 
writer  of  which  he  had  given  the  promise. 

As  to  the  exact  type  of  Mr.  Ware's  Unitarianism,  I  cannot  speak  with  con- 
fidence, and  I  am  inclined  to  think  tliat  he  had  no  very  sharply  defined  views 
in  regard  to  the  nature  and  rank  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  know,  however,  that  ha 
regarded  Him  with  the  deepest  veneration,  as  a  being  of  superhuman  origin, 
whose  mission  was  miraculously  attested,  and  whose  authority  was  truly 
Divine;  as  the  Son  of  God  in  a  high  and  peculiar  sense,  as  the  one  Mediator 
between  God  and  man.  My  impression  is  that  he  would  not  have  been  willing 
to  bo  classed  with  any  sect  of  ancient  or  modern  times,  in  such  a  sense  as  to- 
be  responsible  for  the  views  attributed  to  such  sect. 

He  had  a  great  love  for  the  fine  arts,  especially  for  Music  and  Painting,  the- 
beauties  of  which  he  could  appreciate  and  enjoy  with  a  keen  relish.  In  his 
tedious  days  of  weakness  and  incapacity  for  long  continued  labour  of  the 
mind  or  the  body,  he  found  relaxation  and  relief  in  listening  to  the  music  of 
the  p;irlour  or  the  orchestra,  or  in  visiting  collections  of  painting  or  statuary, 
to  which  he  had  access  in  this  and  in  foreign  lands.  He  was  himself  skilled 
in  these  delightful  arts.  Had  he,  in  early  life,  chosen  the  vocation  of  an  artist, 
and  devoted  hmiself  to  it,  he  might  have  attained  to  no  ordinary'  excellence. 
His  taste  for  the  fine  arts,  and  his  ability  to  appreciate  the  works  of  the  old 
masters,  made  his  visit  to  Europe,  notwithstanding  the  physical  infirmities 
under  which  he  laboured,  a  season  of  great  and  exquisite  enjoyment. 

I  will  oidy  add  that,  in  his  domestic  character,  he  was  all  that  could  be 
desired  in  the  relations  he  sustained,  as  a  husband,  father  and  head  of  a 
household.  In  all  the  domestic  relations  he  was  unselfish,  sweet  tempered, 
of  a  gentle,  loving  spirit,  such  as  made  him  to  be  loved  and  idolized  by  aU' 
the  members  of  the  little  circle  of  which  he  was  the  head  and  ornament. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir, 

Ever  truly  and  alFectionately  yours, 

JOSEPH  ALLEN. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  October  30,  1861, 

My  dear  Sir:  I  promised  you  a  sketch  of  my  impressions  as  to  the  Rer 
William  Ware. 
I  was  not  intimately  acquainted  with  Mr.  Ware  till  after  bis  resignation  of 
Vol.  VIII.  33 


514  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

his  pastorate  at  West  Cambridge;  but,  for  the  last  few  j'^ears  of  his  life,  I  was 
ill  frequent  correspondence  and  intercourse  with  him,  and  he  was  repeatedly 
a  guest  at  my  house.  During  this  whole  period  he  was  distinctly  aware  of 
the  incurableness  of  the  cerebral  disease  which  had  stricken  him  down  in  the 
pulpit,  and  not  only  so,  but  he  knew  how  probable  it  was  that  an  entire  eclipse 
of  his  mental  powers  might  precede  dissolution  by  a  long  interval.  But  he 
bore  this  heavy  burden  of  disease,  suffering  and  dread,  not  only  with  resigna- 
tion, but  with  a  prevailing  cheerfulness, —  not  the  gift  of  an  impassible  nature, 
but  the  result  of  strong  self-discipline;  for  there  was  that  in  iiis  countenance 
and  the  tones  of  his  voice,  which  showed  that  he  had  gone  down  into  the  lowest 
depths,  and  had  been  drawn  out  of  them  only  through  the  power  of  liis  faith. 
I  have  known  few  men  who  have  so  strongly  endeared  themselves  as  inmates 
of  a  home  not  their  own.  The  most  modest  of  men,  endowed  with  keenly 
delicate  perceptions  and  sensibilities,  with  an  unstudied  kindness  and  cour- 
tesy;  wholly  devoid  of  egotism,  and  not  so  much  thoughtful  as  intuitively 
conscious  of  whatever  could  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  those  around  him, 
he  has  left  the  most  precious  remembrances  in  the  families  of  his  friends.  His 
brilliant  powers  of  intellect  cannot  easily  be  overrated,  nor  can  too  high  an 
estimate  be  placed  on  his  thorough  classical  scholarship.  His  "  Zenobia  "  is, 
it  seems  to  me,  unequalled  in  its  kind,  and  it  is  the  only  work  of  its  kind  in 
which  we  may  not  easily  trace  anachronisms,  from  which,  indeed,  his  later 
stories  are  not  always  free.  He  had  one  capacity  of  excellence  which  deserves 
special  notice.  He  always  regarded  himself  as  a  born  artist;  and  though  his 
literary  and  professional  employments,  and  his  entire  lack  of  regular  artistic 
training,  seemed  to  preclude  his  excelling  in  a  mere  occasional  pastime,  there 
yet  remain  several  of  his  paintings  in  oil,  wliich,  in  the  judgment  of  connois- 
seurs, indicate  superior  genius  in  design  and  skill  in  execution. 

His  worst  fears  for  himself  were  realized  in  but  a  very  slight  degree.  His 
brightness,  versatility,  and  playfulness  of  intellect  were  not  sensibl}^  impaired 
when  I  last  saw  him,  and,  I  believe,  remained  unchanged  till  the  attack  of 
illness  which  terminated  his  life.  His  memory,  never  tenacious,  became  some- 
what less  trustworthy  than  it  had  been,  and  his  power  of  continuous  mental 
effort  was  diminished.  In  all  other  respects  he  was  mercifully  spared  what 
he  most  dreaded. 

I  remember  having  heard  him  preach  but  once.  His  sermon  then  was  pro- 
foundly serious,  but  delivered  with  little  energy  and  animation.  In  his 
more  private  ministeiial  relations  as  a  Pastor  and  Friend  he  was  greatly 
■.esteemed  and  beloved.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Very  truly  yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  HENRY  W.  BELLOWS,  D.  D. 

New  York,  March  7,  1863. 

My  dear  Dr.  Sprague:  All  the  essential  facts  connected  with  my  predeces- 
sor's history,  your  diligence  has,  doubtless,  already  gleaned.  You  will  find 
them,  if  you  still  want  the  means  of  correcting  your  record,  accurately  stated 
in  Dr.  Dewey's  article  on  William  Ware  in  the  Christian  Examiner. 

I  wish  only  to  give  you,  at  this  time,  in  answer  to  your  request,  such  per- 
sonal recollections  of  him  and  such  an  estimate  of  his  character,  as  may  help 
to  fill  out  the  conception  of  a  man  who  ought  never  to  be  forgotten. 

I  knew  Mr.  Ware  only  in  his  prune,  from  forty  to  fifty.  He  had  a  noble  and 
beautiful  presence;  a  good  height;  a  firmly  and  generously  fashioned  frame;  a 
head,  so  high  and  large,  so  intellectual  and  commanding,  that  I  recollect  Miss 
Martineau  said  it  was  worth  coming  across  the  Atlantic  to  see  it.     His  com- 


WILLIAM    WARE.  015 

plexion  was  fair  and  pallid,  but  not  of  an  unhealthy  look.  On  the  contrary, 
although  very  thoughtful  and  scholarly  in  his  aspect,  he  had  commonly  a 
robust  and  hearty  manner,  aided  by  a  cheery  and  manly.voice,  and  by  a  vig- 
orous movement  of  foot  and  muscular  grasp  of  hand,  which  gave  an  impression 
of  power  and  health.  The  very  serious  disease  (of  the  brain)  from  which  he 
suffered,  perhaps  all  his  life,  but  certainly  acutely  for  the  last  ten  years  of  his 
existence,  and  which  finally  carried  him  off,  never  very  seriously  impaired  his 
appearance  or  showed  itself  in  his  external  wa^'S.  A  full,  softe3^e,  with  mirth 
and  mildness  in  it,  and  a  great  wide  looking  sen.se,  with  a  hospitality  for  all 
that  Art  and  Nature  and  Humanity  could  bring  within  its  sweep;  a  generous, 
strong,  firm  chin;  a  handsome,  regular  mouth;  with  a  magnificent  dome, 
overhanging  and  crowning  all, —  made  William  Ware's  head  and  face  remarka- 
ble in  all  assemblies.  And  this  fine  pliysique  did  not  mislead.  A  heart  as 
true,  noble  and  sweet  as  ever  beat;  a  mind  clear,  broad  and  strong;  a  will 
firm  and  erect;  a  conscience  clear  and  scrupulous;  a  taste  pure  and  classical; 
a  spirit  reverential  and  humble; — all  were  in  AVilliam  Ware.  Nothing  but  a 
lurking  disease  of  the  brain  kept  him  from  doing  still  larger  justice  to  his 
great  powers  of  mind  and  character, —  for  he  was  equal,  in  intellectual  and 
moral  endowments,  to  any  thing.  Self  distrust,  reserve,  and  a  shrinking 
from  publicity  —  which  his  social  affections,  which  were  strong,  his  delight- 
ful power  of  conversation,  and  his  universal  personal  acceptableness,  did  noth- 
ing to  account  for,  and  which  must  have  proceeded  from  disease  —  these  kept 
him  from  doing  that  full  justice  to  himself  in  the  pulpit,  and  in  his  professional 
career,  which,  could  he  have  overcome  them,  would  have  placed  him  as  a 
preacher,  where  he  afterwards  stood  as  a  writer.  His  sermons,  always  clear, 
high  toned,  and  in  the  purest  Engli.sh,  were  comparatively  dry  and  unadorned; 
his  manner  somewhat  cold  and  unaffecting, —  simply  from  the  shrinking  deli- 
cacy with  which  he  avoided  the  least  approach  to  ostentation  or  self  exhibition, 
and  from  the  excessive  dread  of  show  of  emotion  or  ad  captandum  zeal.  He 
was  so  real,  so  modest,  so  sincere,  that  to  do  any  thing  for  effect,  to  seem  to 
feel,  or  to  say,  more  than  the  coolest  self  judgment  would  justify,  was  wholly 
beyond  his  power — and  for  fear  he  should  sink  into  mere  professional  zeal 
and  pulpit  effort,  he  kept  far  within  the  limits  of  his  own  sensibilities  and 
powers, —  and  hid  alike  his  fine  imagination  and  his  tender  heart  from  those 
he  addressed  in  his  sermons.  His  verbal  memory  was  verj'  bad.  Public 
extempore  prayer  was  a  perpetual  trial  to  him,  and  he  was  alwa3'S  afraid  of 
breaking  down  in  it.  The  presence  of  an  audience  disconcerted  and  distressed 
him,  and  I  think  he  seldom  had  any  comfort  in  his  public  utterances. 

"  0  !  that  William  could  preach  his  letters,"  said  his  distinguished  brother 
Henry  to  me  one  day  in  Cambridge,  as  he  was  reading  one  of  those  brilliant, 
plaj'ful,  affectionate,  easy  epistles  which  his  friends  were  so  fond  of  receiving. 
For,  all  the  while  that  Mr.  Ware  was  preaching  severe,  essay-like,  and  unat- 
tractive sermons,  which  owed  their  power  mainly  to  the  confidence,  respect 
and  affection  inspired  by  his  high,  manly,  pure  and  disinterested  character, 
his  stern  simplicity  of  soul  and  unassuming  worth,  he  was  capable  of  writing — 
and  soon  proved  it — in  a  charming,  imaginative,  dramatic  and  many  coloured 
style, —  of  mingled  purity  and  strength,  grace  and  elegance.  He  wrote,  too, 
with  consummate  self-possession  and  ease,  not  even  correcting  his  manu.sci  ipts — ■ 
and  with  a  marvellous  rapidity  and  richness  and  beauty.  His  splendid  series 
of  classical  novels  must  certainly  hold  a  permanent  place  in  literature.  Julian, 
perhaps  the  least  popular,  owing  to  not  wholly  discreditable  prejudices,  is,  if 
the  attempt  to  reproduce  the  scenes  in  which  our  Lord  moved,  in  any  fictitious 
way,  can  ever  be  accepted — by  far  the  least  unsuccessful  effort  yet  made  in 
that  line,  and  indeed  has  a  truly  wonderful  power  in  its  way. 

Mr.  Ware's  ministry  in  New  York  rhis  only  ministry)  was  indescribably 


516  •  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

laborious.  He  made  a  conscience  of  two  original  sermons  every  week.  He 
visited  his  widely  scattered  congregation  with  laborious  care.  He  was  punc- 
tiliously attentive  to  the  sick  and  to  the  poor,  wearing  himself  out  in  persist- 
ent watchings  and  readings  by  their  bedsides.  He  had  a  nervous  shrinking 
from  every  thing  unhandsome  or  offensive  to  the  senses  and  the  taste, — but 
this  only  made  him  the  more  exacting  of  himself  in  his  attentions  to  the 
least  interesting  or  most  repulsive  dependents  on  his  pastoral  attentions.  Very 
proud  and  self-respectful,  he  contended  with  a  narrow  income  in  a  most  un- 
con)plaining  way.  Indeed  his  port  and  carriage  made,  at  no  time,  the  least 
appeal  to  sympathy, —  much  less  to  pity  or  help.  Willing  to  give  any  and 
every  thing,  sympathy,  money,  attention, —  he  asked  nothing,  and  with  diffi- 
culty received  any  thing.  I  recollect  well  meeting  him  in  Florence,  a  lonely 
self-exile,  because  he  could  not  bear  that  liis  disease  should  wear  on  tlie  sym- 
pathies of  home,  and  chose  to  suffer  alone.  His  manner  and  conversation 
gave  no  indication  of  tlie  martyrdom  he  was  enduring.  Indeed,  they  almost 
rendered  inquiry  as  to  his  health  impossible — you  felt  that  he  would  not  per- 
mit sympathy  with  his  sorrows  to  be  even  hinted.  I  have  never  seen  so  self- 
subsistent  and  dignified  a  sufferer.  The  sword  hanging  over  liis  head  could 
not  quench  his  sn)ile,  liis  courage,  his  self-reliance;  and  yet  he  concealed  even 
his  fortitude,  his  triumph  of  spirit.  His  aim  seemed  to  be  to  avoid  all  notice, 
all  praise,  all  pity. 

The  genuineness  of  Mr.  Ware  was  apparent  in  every  thing.  He  was  inca- 
pable of  an  insincere  tone  of  voice.  He  understated  his  convictions,  his  affec- 
tions, his  faith.  He  concealed  from  tlie  young  his  superiority  in  knowledge, 
experience,  wisdom,  as  if  it  were  almost  a  wrong.  I  recollect  his  saying  to 
me  once  that  he  never  knew  a  man  who  did  any  thing  worth  while,  who  was 
lacking  in  conceit.  He  spoke  as  if  he  would  give  much  for  that  quality.  His 
humility  was  so  great  and  so  genuine  that  he  felt  it  to  be  a  hindrance.  But 
it  was  accompanied  by  an  immense  self-respect;  no  self-complacenc)',  no  ade- 
quate self-valuation,  but  great  self-respect.  He  could  not  be  praised;  his 
dignity,  cliild-like  as  it  was,  could  not  be  invaded  —  at  bottom  he  was  really 
great  in  his  personality. 

Mr.  Ware  had  a  dry  humour  about  him,  very  delightful  to  his  intimate 
friends.  I  remember  his  walking  down  Broadway  with  me  the  day  before  my 
Ordination  in  New  York  as  his  successor.  Assuming  a  very  solemn  expression, 
he  said,  "  Sir,  I  wish  to  give  you  one  very  serious  piece  of  advice,  in  entering 
on  your  new  life  in  this  great  and  dangerous  city."  I  opened  my  ears  to  take 
in  the  consummate  counsel,  in  which  I  was  prepared  to  find  the  wisdom  of  his 
life  and  ministry  condensed;  "  Be  careful,  sir,  be  very  careful  not  to  step  on 
the  coal  holes."  Doubtless  he  meant  to  express  his  sense  of  the  folly  of  ex- 
pecting a  young  man  to  profit  much  by  the  advice  of  his  seniors.  His  remark 
about  the  coal  holes  has  been  of  real  service;  (for  they  are  slippery  pests 
when  shut,  and  perilous  traps  when  open;)  but  a  thousand  times,  in  its  moral 
import  of  "taking  heed  to  my  ways,"  I  have  revived  it,  as  his  sole  counsel 
to  me  in  stepping  into  his  shoes. 

Mr.  Ware  left  a  profound  impression  of  his  character  upon  the  best  and 
most  cultivated  portion  of  his  fiock.  I  have  constantly  met  with  the  eviden- 
ces of  his  power  to  give  a  vivid  and  ineffaceable  sense  of  the  reality  of  Chris- 
tian faith  and  Christian  virtue  to  those  who  knew  him  well.  The  nearer  you 
came  to  him  the  stronger  this  feeling  was.  He  was  so  much  more  than  he 
claimed,  or  would  allow,  that  he  had  all  the  effect  that  belongs  to  great  re- 
served power. 

One  of  the  tender  evidences  of  his  still  fresh  influence  in  his  old  sphere  of 
ministerial  life  is,  that,  at  this  very  moment,  although  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  century  has  elapsed  since  he  left  them,  the  First  Congregational  Church 


WILLIAM    WARE.  617 

are  just  erecting  a  mural  tablet  to  his  memory  in  the  Church  of  all  Souls, 
where  a  few  who  knew  and  loved  him,  still  remain  to  cherish  the  recollections 
of  his  precious  gifts,  his  pure  and  noble  character,  his  single-hearted  Christian 
ministi-y. 

^I}'  revered  friend  and  former  colleague  in  this  city,  Dr.  Dewey,  who  knew 
Mr.  Ware  as  intimatel}-  as  any  one,  has  sent  me  a  letter,  in  reply  to  one  asking 
for  his  recollections,  which,  although  not  intended  for  publication,  I  should 
feel  it  to  be  an  injustice  to  my  predecessor's  memory  to  withhold  from  your 
pages,  and  which  I  assume  the  responsibility  of  making  the  best  part  of  my 
present  contribution  to  j^our  Record. 

Very  faithfully  and  fraternally  yours, 

HENRY  W.  BELLOWS. 

Sheffield,  February  18,  1863. 

My  dear  Bellows:  William  Ware  was  born  for  anotlier  profession  than  that 
in  which  he  passed  his  life.  lie  should  have  been  an  artist,  a  painter  or  an 
author.  There  are  some  drawings  in  his  house  at  Cambridge,  which  sliow  that 
he  would  have  excelled  in  that  walk  of  art.  The  study  walls  of  his  house  in 
New  York  were  covered  over  with  crayon  sketches.  Though  so  calm  in  his 
outward  appearance  that  few  would  have  suspected  it,  j'et  he  was  too  sensi- 
tive for  public  life.  Between  silent  walls,  with  none  to  observe  him,  he  would 
have  round  his  work  congenial  and  grateful.  But  before  an  audience  his  fac- 
ulties had  no  fair  pla\'. 

Not  that  he  was  indifferent  to  his  hearers,  still  less  to  his  people.  For  I 
hardl}'  ever  knew  a  parish  more  devotedly  attached  to  its  Pastor  than  his  — 
composed  too  in  part  of  some  of  the  most  cultivated  and  admirable  persons, 
as  you,  his  successor,  well  know.  And  nobody  can  read  his  Zenobia,  Aureliaa 
and  Julian  without  seeing  that  he  was  full  of  genius  and  eloquence.  But  the 
face  of  an  audience  seemed  to  chill  that  glowing  enthusiasm.  And  it  was  so 
witli  him  in  the  more  solemn  and  formal  occasions  of  his  parochial  life.  lie 
used  to  sa}'^  to  me  that  the  death  and  approaching  funeral  of  any  person  in  his 
parish,  even  of  a  little  child,  lilled  him  with  agitation  and  distress  for  days. 

I  have  in  m}^  possession  two  most  touching  letters  from  him,  on  what  he 
called  his  <<  mistake  for  a  life."  So  much  did  he  feel  this,  that  he  determined, 
soon  after  his  settlement  in  New  York,  to  retire.  But  his  brother  Henry,  de- 
voted as  he  was  to  the  Church,  as  all  our  churches  well  know,  could  not  bear 
that  he  should  leave  his  post,  and  persuaded  him  to  remain  in  it.  My  own 
relation  with  him  was  so  intimate,  and  so  important  was  his  presence  and 
companionship  to  me,  that  I  exacted  and  obtained  from  him  a  promise  that  he 
would  not  resign  his  place  without  consulting  me.  Great,  therefore,  was  my 
surprise  when  1  learned  one  day  in  my  country  home,  that  he  had  actually 
taken  that  step.  I  went  down  to  New  York,  and  my  first  word  to  him  was, 
«'  How  is  this.-*  You  have  broken  your  promise."  His  answer  shut  my  lips; 
for  he  said,  "  I  have  not  consulted  even  my  father  or  brothers."  I  saw  how 
it  was:  he  could  not  bear  the  unnatural  strain  of  his  situation  upon  his  mind 
and  heart.  Exclamations  of  regret  and  disappointment  arose  on  every  hand, 
and  my  own  sorrow  was  such  that  I  felt,  I  am  afraid,  a  sort  of  malicious 
pleasure  in  telling  him  of  persons  in  the  parish,  most  highly  valued  by  him, 
who  .said  to  me,  <<  We  have  lost  our  best  friend,  and  the  greatest  benefactor 
we  ever  had  in  our  families."  He  was  much  surprised,  for  nothing  in  him 
exceeded  his  modesty  —  and  said  —  '« If  I  had  known  that,  perhaps  I  should 
have  remained." 

It  was  some  years  after  that  he  was  seized  with  that  affection  of  the  brain 
which  eventually  proved  fatal  to  him.  How  disease  should  have  entered  so 
perfect  a   dwelling  as  the  dome  of  his  upper  head,  I  do  not  know  —  nothing 


518  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

could  be  finer.     Pendent  to  his  likeness  in  my  library,  hangs  that  of  Ruskin; 
but  with  all  his  intellectual  beauty  it  is  not  equal  to  AV'are's. 

The  first  manifestation  of  his  disease  was  very  singular.  He  had  been 
"working  in  his  garden,  and  went  in  much  exhausted,  just  at  evening.  He 
took  a  book  to  read,  and  very  soon  met  with  a  word  he  did  not  understand. 
Supposing  it  to  be  some  strange  misprint,  he  went  on,  but  soon  came  to  another, 
and  to  a  third.  In  some  concern  about  what  this  could  be,  he  closed  the  book, 
retired  to  rest  and  slept  till  morning.  The  first  thing  on  waking  was  to  take 
his  book  again,  when  he  found  the  same  phenomenon  repeatedly  recurring. 
He  then  saw  that  it  was  upon  the  brain.  The  disease  increased,  and,  after 
some  3'ears  passed  in  constant  liability  to  attacks  equally  alarming  and  pain- 
ful to  witness,  he  determined  to  go  abroad,  and  he  determined  to  go  alone. 
To  all  our  earnest  remonstrances  he  replied,  "I  cannot  livs  with  these 
anxious  eyes  turned  upon  me  at  any  moment."  With  the  delicate  and  .sensi- 
tive disinterestedness  of  his  natui-e,  he  could  not  bear  the  ceaseless  watcli  of 
love  around  him,  and  he  said, — '  I  must  go;  and  I  must  go  alone."  He  went; 
his  health  was  improved;  and  on  his  return  he  prepared  and  printed  a  book 
on  the  <«  European  Capitals;"  and  afterwards  set  himself  about  three  Lectures 
on  the  "■  Works  and  Genius  of  Washington  Alston,"  which,  after  his  death, 
were  also  published.  They  showed  plainly  the  bent  of  his  mind  and  are  full 
of  fine  discrimination  and  original  thought. 

His  works  awakened  a  strong  interest  and  were  widely  read.  I  have  a  trans- 
lation of  Zenobia  into  German,  and  I  do  not  know  but  others  were  translated. 
And  ships,  saihng  out  of  Boston,  bear  the  names  of  Zenobia  and  Aurelian. 

I  have  written  these  few  things,  at  your  request,  hastily,  as  they  came  into 
my  mind  —  for  I  have  no  faculty  for  elaborate  biographical  writing.  I  hardly 
know  why,  but  it  always  seems  to  me  that  the  finer  essence  of  life  must  escape 
from  these  biographical  analyses.  Certainly  no  such  analysis  would  tell  what 
William  Ware  was.  Ever  yours, 

ORVILLE  DEWEY. 


BERNARD  WHITMAN. 

1824  —  1834. 

FROM  THE  REV.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY,  D.  D. 

Cambridge,  December  9,  18G2. 

My  dear  Sir  :  I  knew  Bernard  Whitman  well,  and  have  many  pleasant  recol- 
lections of  him,  which  it  is  grateful  to  me  to  record.  If  the  following  brief 
sketch  of  his  life  and  character  is  suited  to  your  purpose,  I  am  happy  in 
being  able  to  contribute  it. 

Bernard  Whitman  was  born  at  East  Bridgewater,  Mass.,  June  8, 
1796.  He  was  the  thirteenth  child  of  Beacon  John  Whitman,  who,  with 
his  mental  faculties  undimmed,  survived  an  entire  century.  He  was  thus 
born  into  a  large  family ;  into  a  family,  too,  though  not  poor  in  the  com. 
mon  sense  of  the  word,  in  which  frugality,  self-denial,  and  labour  were 
incumbent  duties  on  every  member.  The  discipline  of  such  a  domestic 
position  was  invaluable  in  breaking  down  the  first  forth-puttings  of  selfish- 
ness, and  inspiring  a  strong  fellow-feeling  ;  for  common  burdens,  conflicts, 


BERNARD    WHITMAN.  619 

and  efforts  constitute  a  much  surer  bond  of  mutual  interest  and  affeclion 
than  even  household  ties.  The  same  good  influences  which  I  have  ascribed 
to  his  family  connection,  may  also  with  fairness  be  attributed  to  tlie  com- 
munity in  which  he  received  his  early  education.  It  was  a  neighbourhood 
of  phiiu,  hardworking,  unsophisticated  New  England  farmers  ;  and  every- 
one knows  how  closely  such  neighbourhoods  are  cemented  in  mutual  depend- 
ence and  sympathy;  how  readily  the  burden  of  one  is  lifted  by  all  ;  how 
heartily  the  joy  of  one  is  shared  by  all.  Of  this  spirit  Mr.  Whitman, 
■while  yet  a  boy,  drank  deeply,  and  manifested  in  childhood  and  youth  tho 
same  "  generous  disdain  of  deceit,  of  wrong,  and  of  oppression,  togetlier 
witli  tlie  same  promptness  and  zeal  to  maintain  the  just  rights  and  claims 
of  others  as  well  as  his  own,"  by  which  he  was  so  much  distinguished  in 
after  life. 

Several  circumstances, — among  which  the  most  influential  undoubtedly 
was  the  fact  that,  during  a  vacancy  in  his  native  parish,  the  candidates  for 
settlement  boarded  with  his  father, — early  directed  his  attention  to  the 
Christian  ministry  as  his  profession.  His  father  being  unable  to  afford  him 
pecuniary  assistance,  he  left  home  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  and  laboured  in 
different  manufactories  as  an  apprentice,  journeyman,  and  overseer,  until 
he  had  earned  a  sufficient  sum  to  enable  him  to  commence  his  studies.  To 
this  portion  of  his  life  he  ever  after  attached  a  very  high  importance,  as 
having  at  once  enlisted  his  sympathies  with  the  class  of  people  among 
whom  his  lot  was  subsequently  cast,  and  given  him  an  intimate  knowledge 
of  their  peculiar  wants,  temptations  and  trials.  He  prepared  for  Cullege, 
principally  as  a  beneficiary  at  Exeter,  under  the  tuition  of  the  venerable 
Dr.  Abbot.  Here,  though  respectable,  he  was  not  distinguished  as  a  scho- 
lar ;  and  appears  to  have  been  diverted,  in  some  degree,  from  habits  of 
close  application,  by  his  incapacity  to  discern  and  feel  the  bearing  of  his 
classical  course  on  his  present  or  future  usefulness.  But  in  the  pursuit  of 
what  he  perceived  to  be  directly  useful  he  was  untiringly  diligent.  He 
entered  with  deep  interest  into  the  circumstances  and  feelings  of  all  his 
fellow-students  ;  and,  while  he  was  respected  and  beloved  by  those  of  his 
own  age,  he  was  looked  up  to  by  the  younger  boys  as  their  patron,  protec- 
tor and  fast  friend.  He  was  also  peculiarly  active  in  procuring  relief  and 
aid  for  the  destitute  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Academy,  and  was  the 
means,  in  some  instances,  of  preventing  extreme  suffering  from  want.  He 
was,  at  this  time,  strongly  prepossessed  in  favour  of  Calvinistic  views  of 
the  Gospel  ;  and,  even  when  he  entered  Harvard  College,  as  he  stated  to 
his  brother  a  short  time  before  his  death,  it  was  with  a  determination  not 
to  listen  to  or  be  influenced  by  the  Unitarian  preaching  under  which  he 
might  there  sit,  and,  while  present  in  the  Chapel  on  the  Sabbath,  he  used 
to  court  sleep,  or  fix  his  thoughts  upon  something  foreign  from  the  place 
and  the  occasion,  that  so  he  might  avoid  hearing  doctrines  which  he  did 
not  believe. 

He  entered  College  in  1818,  and  remained  there  but  little  more  than  a. 
year.  He  maintained  a  highly  respectable  rank  in  his  class,  and  an^ 
unbounded  popularity  among  his  classmates, — a  popularity  won  by  no 
undignified  concessions  or  compliances,  (for  he  bore  among  his  fellow- 
students  the  reputation  of  the  strictest  sobriety  and  the  most  conscientious^ 


620  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

piety,)  but,  by  bis  frankness  and  generosity,  and  by  the  constant  outflow, 
iug  of  a  strong  fraternal  eniotion,  which  made  itself  felt  and  compelled 
reciprocation.  Nor  is  it  unworthy  of  notice,  as  illustrating  his  sterling 
benevolence,  that,  while  at  College,  he  kept  up  with  the  younger  lads  whom 
he  had  left  at  Exeter  a  constant  correspondence,  in  which  he  gave  tliem 
the  most  judicious  advice  with  regard  to  both  scholarship  and  character. 
Early  in  his  Sophomore  year  a  rebellion  broke  out  in  his  class,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  suspension  of  two  favourite  members  for  a  disturbance  in 
Commons  Hall.  One  of  these  young  men  was  Whitman's  room-mate. 
The  class  resolved,  with  one  exception,  to  attend  no  more  recitations  until 
the  punishment,  doubtless  judicious,  but,  as  they  most  sincerely  believed, 
unjust,  should  be  rescinded.  Whitman  entered  with  warmth  into  the  class 
feeling,  and,  with  the  conscious  rectitude  of  one  who  was  resenting  injury 
and  seeking  a  redress  of  grievances,  he  made  himself  peculiarly  obnoxious 
by  an  inflammatory  speech  under  the  Rebellion  Tree.  Tiiis  circun)stance, 
togetlier  with  his  situation  as  a  beneficiary,  which  seemed  to  impose  upon 
him  peculiar  responsibilities  as  an  upholder  of  the  majesty  of  college  law, 
rendered  it  expedient,  in  the  eyes  of  the  government,  to  select  him  from 
among  the  rest  for  the  penalty  of  rustication.  After  pursuing  his  studies 
in  private  for  a  year,  he  re-entered  the  next  class,  and,  unwilling  to  remain 
iu  a  lower  than  his  original  standing,  immediately  requested  and  received 
a  regular  dismission  from  College,  The  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by 
the  class  from  wliich  he  was  thus  separated  will  appear  from  the  fact  tliat, 
on  his  dismission  from  College,  they  collected  among  themselves  and  gave 
him  as  a  viaticum  a  very  considerable  sum  of  money,  which  he,  with  char- 
acteristic delicacy  of  feeling,  though  utterly  penniless,  refused  to  appro- 
priate to  his  necessities,  but  converted  it  into  a  perpetual  memorial  of 
friendship,  by  purchasing  a  number  of  standard  works  in  English  literature, 
which  he  inscribed  as  the  gift  of  his  classmates.  It  may  not  be  amiss  to 
state  here  that  he,  in  later  years,  most  sincerely  regretted  his  follj'  in  yield- 
ing to  the  rebellious  excitement  above  referred  to,  that  lie  was  always  soli- 
citous to  impress  on  his  young  friends  the  duty  of  implicit  obedience  to, 
and  unreserved  confidence  in,  the  authorities  of  College,  and  that  he  had 
even  planned  a  series  of  "  Letters  to  College  Students,"  of  which  the  incul- 
cation of  these  sentiments  was  to  be  the  chief  object. 

About  this  time  Mr.  Whitman  became  acquainted  with  the  writings  of 
Swedenborg,  and  there  was  much  in  their  benevolent  spirit  which  com- 
mended itself  to  his  feelings  and  judgment,  and  almost  persuaded  him  to 
give  in  his  adherence  to  the  New  Jerusalem  Church.  But  he  was  at  a  loss 
for  the  requisite  evidence  of  Swedenborg's  Divine  inspiration,  and  was,  at 
the  same  time,  able  to  trace  to  the  New  Testament  most  of  those  delightful 
features  that  had  at  first  presented  themselves  as  peculiar  to  Swedenborg's 
disciples,  so  that  he  never  became  of  their  number,  though  he  ever  after 
attributed  to  his  intimacy  with  them  and  their  standards  some  of  the  views 
of  Christian  doctrine  which  he  valued  most,  and  some  of  his  strongest 
impulses  to  benevolent  efi"ort. 

For  the  five  years  subsequent  to  his  leaving  College,  Mr.  Whitman's 
time  was  divided  between  the  labour  of  instruction  and  his  preparation  for 
the  ministry.     During  the  first  two  years  of  this  period,  his  theological 


BERNARD    WHITMAN.  OZi 

opinions  liad  been  gradually  undergoing  a  change,  so  that  when,  from  pru- 
dential motives,  he  commenced  his  professional  studies  with  Mr.  Davis,  a 
Calvinistic  clergj'man  of  Wellfleet,  there  is  but  little  douht  that  his  doc- 
trinal views  were  in  conflict  with  those  of  his  instructor.  With  Mr.  Davis 
be  remained  but  a  few  months,  and  completed  his  preparatory  course  under 
the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Abbot,  of  Beverly.  Wiiile  at  Beverly, 
though  always  active  and  busy,  it  was  seldom  in  the  work  of  improving  his 
own  mind  by  regular  and  systematic  study.  He  mingled  much  with  the 
community  aronnd  him,  especially  the  younger  part  of  it,  doing  what  he 
could  in  aid  of  their  general  improvenient ;  and  many  of  them,  I  am  sure, 
cherish  to  this  day  a  lively  and  grateful  recollection  of  his  generous  efl"orts 
in  their  behalf.  He  wrote,  a  few  sermons,  on  which  he  enjoyed  tlie  free  and 
candid  criticism  of  his  instructor,  who  was  himself  eminent  for  the  simpli- 
city, clearness  and  methodical  arrangement  of  his  discourses.  He  was 
licensed  to  preach  in  the  autumn  of  1824,  with  a  slender  stock,  it  must  be 
confessed,  of  the  knowledge  that  is  drawn  from  books,  yet  with  a  singu- 
larly clear  and  comprehensive  acquaintance  with  that  volume  of  human 
nature,  so  often  illegible  to  the  scholastic  divine.  He  was  ordained  Pastor 
of  the  Second  Cliurcli  in  Waltham,  February  15,  1826. 

In  December,  1826,  Mr.  Whitman  was  ujarried  to  Elizabeth  Hartwell 
Crosby,  daughter  of  Josiah  Crosby,  of  Billerica.  They  had  two  children, 
one  of  whom,  [Josiah  Crosby,)  whose  name  was  subsequently  changed  to 
Bernai-d  Crosby,  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  in  1846,  became  a 
lawyer,  and  lias  borne  some  public  office  (judicial  I  tiiink)  in  California. 
Mrs.  Whitman  died  February  12,  1831.  In  1832,  Mr.  Whilnian  was  mar- 
ried, tiie  second  time,  to  Sarah  Bowers,  daughter  of  Samuel  Bowers,  of 
Billerica,  who  is  still  living. 

Mr.  Whitman  entered  upon  his  ministry  with  very  different  purposes  and 
views  from  those  which  he  embodied  in  practice.  He  intended  to  confine 
himself  to  the  advancement  of  what  lie  regarded  as  tlie  best  interests  of  his 
own  people.  He  had  no  thought  of  becoming  an  author,  or  of  assuming  in 
any  way  a  controversial  attitude.  But  he  was  settled  over  a  parish  which 
had  just  dismissed  a  Calvinistic  clergyman,  who  carried  with  him  to  a  new 
place  of  worsliipa  minority  of  the  parish,  and  nearly  all  the  communicants. 
This  circumstance  occasioned  a  bitter  controversy,  and  led  Mr.  Whitman 
to  a  somewhat  bold  and  earnest  exposition  of  Unitarian  views.  His  first 
publication  was  a  Sermon  on  "  Denying  the  Lord  Jesus,"  which  was  pub- 
lished in  August, 1827.  This  sermon  passed  through  several  editions, 
found  a  rapid  sale  and  extensive  circulation,  and  placed  its  author  at  once 
in  the  front  ranks  of  the  defenders  of  Unitarianism.  From  this  time  his 
labours  were  often  put  in  requisition  for  public  occasions;  and  there  was 
scarcely  any  man  on  whom  the  eyes  of  his  denomination  were  sooner 
turned,  whenever  any  plans  were  to  be  projected  or  any  measures  executed, 
in  aid  of  its  peculiar  interests. 

Mr.  Wliitman  made  himself  well  acquainted  with  the  general  features 
of  the  age  and  land,  with  the  extent  and  magnitude  of  public  evils,  and 
the  remedies  which  it  was  within  the  scope  of  an  enlightened  philanthropy 
to  apply.  He  embarked  warmly  in  the  cause  of  Temperance,  and  was 
peculiarly  successful  and  popular  as  a  Temperance  lecturer,  even  among 


522  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

those  wlio,  in  tlielr  theological  opinions,  differed  from  him  most  widely. 
He  also,  a  year  before  his  death,  took  an  open  and  decided  stand  with  the 
Anti-Slavery  party,  though  lie  disapproved  of  many  of  their  most  violent 
measures.  However  some  niight  question  the  expediency  of  his  course 
on  this  latter  subject,  no  one  could  doubt  the  honesty  of  his  purposes,  or 
tlie  generosity  of  his  impulses,  in  adopting  it. 

The  following  is  as  complete  a  list  of  Mr.  Whitman's  publications  as  I 
can  procure  :  A  Discourse  on  Denying  the  Lord  Jesus,  1827.  A  Dis- 
course on  llegeneration,  1828.  A  Thanksgiving  Discourse  on  the  Means 
of  Increasing  Public  Happiness,  1828.  The  Artillery  Election  Sermon, 
1829.  A  Lecture  on  Popular  Superstitions,  1829.  A  Sermon  on  Chris- 
tian Salvation,  preached  at  the  Ordination  of  Stephen  A.  Barnard,  at 
Wilton,  1830.  A  Letter  to  an  Orthodox  Minister  on  Revivals  of  Reli- 
gion, 1831.  Two  Letters  to  the  Rev.  Moses  Stuart  on  the  subject  of 
Religious  Liberty,  1831.  Reply  to  the  Review  of  the  last-nanied  work 
in  the  Spirit  of  the  Pilgrims  for  March,  1831.  ViUage  Sermons  (a  12n>o. 
volume,)  1832.  An  Address  delivered  at  the  Dedication  of  the  iMasonic 
Temple,  in  Boston,  1832.  A  Discourse  on  Christian  Union,  delivered  ab 
the  Installation  of  Adin  Ballou,  Mendon.  Friendly  Letters  to  a  Univer- 
salist  on  Divine  Rewards  and  Punishments  (a  12nio.  volume,)  1833. 

Of  the  above-named  publications  of  Mr.  Whitman  the  most  extended 
and  elaborate  are  his  "  Letters  to  Professor  Stuart  on  Religious  Liberty," 
and  his  "  Letters  to  Universalists."  His  writings  were  of  the  popular 
cast,  fitted  rather  to  make  an  impression  upon  tlie  common  mind  than 
greatly  to  aid  the  cultivated  intellect.  His  style  of  preaching  was  remark- 
able for  its  clearness  and  simplicity.  I  have  heard  him  say  that,  in  pre. 
paring  for  the  pulpit,  he  kept  constantly  before  his  mind's  eye  an  iiitelli. 
gent  child  of  twelve  years  of  age,  and  was  careful  to  write  nothing  which 
such  a  child  could  nx)t  understand. 

In  the  spring  of  1834  he  contracted  a  severe  cold,  which  issued  in  a 
pulmonary  consumption.  He  early  became  aware  of  the  fatal  character 
of  his  disorder,  and  arranged  all  his  affairs  with  precision  and  accuracy, 
that  he  might  leave  no  unnecessary  care  and  responsibility  upon  his  friends. 
He  continued  gradually  to  decline  until  the  morning  of  November  5,  1834, 
when,  in  the  full  possession  of  his  mental  faculties,  and  in  perfect  tran- 
quillity of  soul,  he  breathed  his  last.  An  appropriate  Address  was  deliv- 
ered at  his  Interment,  by  his  neighbour  and  friend,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ripley, 
of  Waltham. 

He  left  behind  him  sketches  of  several  intended  publications,  chiefly  of 
a  practical  character;  among  which  were  "  Letters  to  a  Friend  in  Sick- 
ness," "  The  Wedding  Present,"  "  Letters  to  the  Afflicted  under  the  Loss 
of  Friends,"  and  "Letters  from  a  Father  to  a  Daughter." 

I  am,  mv  dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

A.  P.  PEABODY. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  ALLEN,  D.  D. 

NoRTHBOROUGH,  September  1,  1863. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  knew  Bernard  Whitman,  I  may  say  quite  intimatel}'-,  from 
about  the  commencement  of  his  ministry  till  its  close.     As  our  parishes  were 


BERNARD    WHITMAN.  523 

not  very  distant  from  each  other,  we  were  in  the  habit  of  frequent  exchanges, 
—  the  more  frequent  probably  from  the  fact  tliat  one  of  my  brothers,  witli  his 
family,  resided  within  the  bounds  of  his  congregation.  My  last  visit  to  him 
was  but  a  short  time  previous  to  his  death,  and  it  was  an  occasion  too  remark- 
able ever  to  fade  from   my  remembrance. 

Beinard  Whitman  had  the  advantage  of  possessing  great  personal  attrac- 
tions. There  was  a  degree  of  manly  beauty,  a  certain  nobility  of  aspect  and 
air  about  him,  that  would  have  caused  him  to  be  singled  out  in  a  crowd.  Ho 
was  of  about  the  medium  stature,  of  a  robust  frame,  a  finely  proportioned 
head,  and  dark  curly  liair,  of  a  comple.vion  that  seemed  to  unite  the  lily  and 
the  rose  in  perfect  proportions;  and  a  countenance  expressive  of  all  tliat  was 
briglit  and  genial  and  good  humoured.  And  his  social  attractions  fully  met 
the  expectation  that  would  naturally  be  excited  by  his  personal  appearance. 
His  manners,  thougli  perfectly  simple  and  unstudied,  weie  marked  by  great 
propriety  and  even  gracefulness,  and  he  had  a  facility  of  accommodation  that 
made  him  equally  at  home  among  all  classes.  There  was  a  perfect  natural- 
ness pervading  his  wliole  character.  lie  was  one  of  the  most  transparent  of 
men.  His  face  told  you  —  and  it  spoke  truly  —  that  lie  was  incapable  of  dis- 
simulation. This  characteristic  was  visible  in  all  his  public  miuistiations. 
All  that  he  said  seemed  to  be  the  simple,  genuine  breathing  of  his  spirit.  lie 
had  a  fine  voice,  and  he  used  it  admirably,  though  he  kept  you  impressed  with 
the  idea  that  it  was  natuie  rather  than  culture  by  which  you  were  attracted — • 
I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  there  was  any  want  of  culture,  but  only  that  cul- 
ture had  not  betra3'ed  him  into  any  habit  in  the  slightest  degree  artiticial. 
His  style  of  writing  was  perspicuous  and  forcible,  without  any  studied  orna- 
ment, but  always  in  good  taste.  As  a  Preacher  he  occupied  a  commanding 
position  in  his  denomination,  and  was  always  listened  to  with  interest,  as  well 
for  the  ability  with  which  his  discourses  were  marked  as  for  his  natural  and 
effective  delivery. 

Mr.  WhitJnan  pos.sessed  a  kindly  and  genial  spirit,  though  he  was  frequently 
engaged  in  controversy,  in  which  he  manifested  great  earnestness,  and  some- 
times, it  must  be  acknowledged,  a  considerable  degree  of  severit}'.  I  do  not 
think,  however,  that  he  ever  cherished  any  ill-will  toward  those  who  opposed 
him,  thougli  some  of  his  controversial  pamphlets  doubtless  rendered  him 
unpopular  with  the  Orthodox  portion  of  the  community.  He  had  great  execu- 
tive power,  and,  by  his  ready  percei)tion  and  remarkable  tact,  could  promptly 
meet  any  emergency,  however  unexpected.  lie  had  a  truly  pliilanthropic 
spirit,  that  kept  him  upon  the  lookout  for  opportunities  of  benefitting  his  fel- 
low men,  and  advancing  the  general  interests  of  society.  He  was  among  the 
first  to  engage  in  the  delivery  of  Lyceum  lectures,  and  the  zeal  with  whicli  he 
pursued  this,  in  connection  with  his  other  duties,  had  probably  much  to  do  in 
bringing  on  the  disease  that  terminated  his  life.  I  saw  him,  as  I  have  already 
intimated,  but  a  short  time  before  his  departure.  As  soon  as  my  eye  rested 
upon  him,  I  perceived  that  death  was  nearly  ready  to  do  its  work.  He 
seemed  cheerful,  but  I  quickly  found  that  he  was  fully  aware  of  his  situation. 
He  remarked  that,  though  it  was  a  great  disappointment  to  have  his  purposes 
thus  broken  off,  he  felt  that  a  better  wisdom  than  his  own  had  ordained  it, 
and  he  could  say  "  not  my  will  but  thine  be  done."  The  tranquillity  which 
he  manifested  then,  I  was  assured,  continued  to  the  last. 

Grateful  for  the  opportunity  to  pay  this  feeble  tribute  to  the  memory  of  a 
departed  friend  and  brother,  I  sub.scribe  myself  yours  truly, 

JOSEPH  ALLEN. 


524  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


ALEXANDER  YOUNG,  D.  D  * 

1824  —  1854. 

Alexander  Young,  a  son  of  Alexander  and  Mary  Young,  was  born 
in  Boston,  on  the  22d  of  September,  1800.  His  father  was  a  printer,  and 
■was  one  of  the  publishers  of  the  New  England  Palladium,  the  firm  being 
"  Young  and  Minns."  In  1812  he  entered  the  Boston  Lalin  School,  and 
in  1816  was  admitted  to  the  Freshman  Class  of  Harvard  College,  where 
he  graduated  with  distinguished  honour  in  1820, —  in  the  same  class  with 
E.  S.  Gannett,  W.  H.  Furness,  E.  B.  Hall,  Calvin  Lincoln,  and  others 
who  have  been  conspicuous  in  the  diiferent  walks  of  life.  The  year  suc- 
ceeding his  graduation,  he  was  employed  as  assistant  teacher  in  the  Boston 
Latin  School.  In  the  autumn  of  1821  he  entered  the  Divinity  School  at 
Cambridge,  where  he  pursued  the  regular  course  of  study  for  three  years. 
On  the  13th  of  September,  1824,  he  was  approved,  by  the  Boston  Associa- 
tion, as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry. 

The  evidence  that  Mr.  Young,  at  the  very  commencement  of  his  min- 
istry, enjoyed  a  much  more  than  ordinary  degree  of  popularity,  is  found  in 
the  fact  that,  within  about  two  months  from  the  time  he  entered  the  pulpit, 
he  was  unanimously  invited  to  take  the  pastoral  charge  of  two  churches  in 
Boston,  —  ouQ  the  Twelfth  Congregational,  the  other  the  New  South,  as 
successor  to  Dr.  Kirkland,  Samuel  Cooper  Thacher,  and  Dr.  Greenwood. 
This  latter  call  he  accepted,  and,  on  the  9th  of  January,  1825,  he  was  or- 
dained as  the  eighth  Pastor  of  the  Sixth  Congregational  Church,  and  was 
the  seventy-seventh  Congregational  minister  settled  in  Boston.  The  Ser- 
mon at  his  Ordination  was  preached  by  the  llev.  John  G.  Palfrey,  and  the 
Charge  was  given  by  Dr.  Channing. 

Though  Mr.  Young  possessed  naturally  a  strong  constitution,  his  health 
became  considerably  impaired  in  the  year  1833,  which  led  him  to  cross  the 
ocean,  and  pass  some  time  in  foreign  countries.  He  greatly  enjoyed 
the  tour,  and  returned  with  his  health  much  improved,  and  prepared  to  re- 
sume his  work  with  new  vigour.  This  was  the  only  material  interruption 
of  his  labours  during  the  whole  period  of  his  ministry. 

The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him,  by  Harvard 
College,  in  1846. 

Dr.  Young  preached  for  the  last  time,  on  the  29th  of  January,  1854. 
Immediately  after  this,  he  took  a  violent  cold,  which  was  followed  by  pleu- 
risy, and  this,  after  about  six  weeks,  brought  him  to  his  grave.  He  died 
on  the  16th  of  March,  and  his  Funeral  was  attended  on  the  20th,  on  which 
occasion  a  Sermon  was  preached  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gannett,  from  Matt.  XXV, 
23.  On  the  Sabbath  following,  the  Rev.  Dr.  George  E.  Ellis  delivered  a 
Commemorative  Discourse  from  Acts  Xill,  36.  Both  Discourses  were 
published. 

Mr.  Young  was  married,  on  the  1st  of  November,  1826,  to  Caroline, 
daughter  of  Eleazar  and  Rossafair  (Brooks)  James,  of  Barre,  Mass.    He  had 

•  MS.  from  his  Son,  Rev.  E.  J.  Young. —  Funeral  Sermons  by  Drs.  Gannett  and  Ellis. — 
Christ.  Exam. J  1854. —  Mass.  Hist.  Coll.,  4th  series,  ii. 


ALEXANDER    YOUNG.  525 

twelve  children,  of  whom  eiglit,  with  iheir  mother,  survive  him.  Two  of  his 
sons  are  graduates  of  Harvard  College,  and  one  of  theni  (^Edward  James)  is 
now  (1862)  Pastor  of  the  "  Channiiig  Congregational  Cliurch  "  in  Newton. 

Dr.  Young  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Overseers  of  Har- 
vard College  in  1837,  and  in  1849  was  chosen  Secretary  of  the  Board. 
He  was  llecording  Secretary  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society; 
President  of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge,  Piety  and 
Charity;  a  Director  of  the  Society  fur  Promoting  Theological  Education; 
a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  Congregational  Charitable  Society  ;  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Society  fur  Projiagaling  tlie  Gospel  among  the  Indians  and  others 
in  North  America  ;  Vice  President  of  the  Bostui\  Latin  School  Associa- 
tion ;   and  a  member  of  the  Historical  Societies  in  various  other  Slates. 

In  1829  he  edited  a  series  of  "Selections  from  the  Old  Engli.sh  Prose 
Writers,"  in  nine  volumes.  In  1841  he  published  "  The  Chronicles  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers  of  the  Colony  of  Plymouth,  from  1602  to  1625,"  of  which 
a  second  edition  appeared  in  1844.  In  1346  he  issued  "  Chronicles  of  the 
First  Planters  of  tlie  Colony  of  Ma.ssacliussetts  Bay,  from  1623  to  1626." 
He  also  projected  and  collected  materials  for  two  other  works  :  —  '<  Chron- 
icles of  the  First  Planters  of  the  Colony  of  Virginia,  from  the  First 
Voyage  of  Discovery  in  1584,  to  the  Dissulution  of  the  Virginia  Company  in 
1624  ;"  and  "Chronicles  of  Maritime  Discovery  on  the  Coasts  of  North  Ame- 
rica" ;  which  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  he  did  not  live  to  comi)lete. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Dr.  Young's  publications  in  piimphlut  form  : — 
A  Discourse  on  the  Sins  of  the  Tongue,  1829.  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordina- 
tion of  the  Rev.  James  W.  Tiiompson,  at  Natick,  1830.  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  tlie  Rev.  William  Newell,  at  Cambridge,  1830.  A  pam- 
phlet entitled  Evangelical  Unitarianism  adjusted  to  the  Poor  and  Un- 
learned, 1830.  A  Discourse  Occasioned  by  tlie  Death  of  William  Parsons, 
1837.  A  Discourse  on  the  Life  and  Character  of  the  Hon.  Nathaniel 
Bowditch,  1838.'  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  George  E. 
Ellis,  Charlestown,  1840.  A  Discourse  on  the  Life  and  Character  of  the 
Rev.  John  Thornton  Kirkland,  D,  D.,  1840.  A  Discourse  occasioned  by  the 
Death  of  the  Hon.  William  Prescott,  1844.  A  Discourse  on  the  Twen- 
tieth Anniversary  of  his  Ordination,  1845.  The  Dudleian  Lecture,  1846. 
A  Discourse  occasioned  by  the  death  of  Benjamin  Rich,  1851.  A  Dis- 
course occasioned  by  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Catharine  G.  Prescott.  1852. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  quite  a  number  of  interviews  with  Dr.  Young 
during  the  last  few  years  of  his  life,  and  was  always  most  favourably  im- 
pressed by  his  gentlemanly  manners,  his  extensive  and  varied  information, 
and  the  kindly  and  genial  tone  of  his  spirit,  I  had  several  times  occasion 
to  consult  him  in  respect  to  the  lives  and  writings  of  eminent  men,  and  I 
do  not  remember  an  instance  in  which  he  was  not  able  to  answer  my  in- 
quiries. I  had  more  than  once  the  opportunity  to  observe  how  reverently 
and  gratefully  he  cherished  the  men)ory  of  President  Kirkland  —  like  many 
other  of  his  pupils,  he  loved  to  dwell  not  only  on  his  rare  intellectual  en- 
dowments, but  on  his  fine  moral  and  social  qualities,  and  especially  on  his 
dexterous  management  of  the  students,  illustrative  alike  of  his  shrewdness 
and  good  nature.  All  that  I  ever  saw  of  him  was  in  harmony  with  the 
universal  testimony  of  those  who  knew  him  well, —  that  he  was  a  highly 


526  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

gifted  and  accomplished  man,  always  ready  to  confer  favours,  and  one  of 

the  most  exact  and  thorough  historians  of  his  day.      He  was  if  my  memory 

is  not  at  fault,  rather  below  than  above  the  medium  height,  but  his  frame  was 

robust  and  apparently  well  fitted  for  endurance.      Dr.  Young,  as  I  have  been 

assured  by  those  who  hud  the  best  opportunity  of  knowing,  though  a  decided 

Unitarian,    sympathized,    in    the   views    of  the   more  conservative  portioc 

of  his  denomination.     Dr.  Chandler  Robbins  writes  thus  concerning  him  : — 

"  In  liis  religious  opinions  Dr.  Young  was  a  firm  and  zealous  Unitarian.  He  was, 
however  as  much  opposed  to  Latitudinarianisui  on  the  one  side  as  to  bigotry  aud  ex- 
clusiveni'ss  on  the  other.  He  rested  liis  faith  and  grounded  his  teachings  on  the  rock 
of  Christ's  Divine  authority,  and  not  on  the  reasonings  and  speculations  of  men.  He 
was  iioiiest  and  independent  in  declaring  and  defending  what  he  believed  to  be  tlie 
truths  of  Revelation;  but  he  was  no  controversialist,  and  never  assumed  the  attitude 
of  an  assailant.  The  articles  of  his  faith  were  clearly  defined  and  firmly  established 
in  liis  own  mind.  He  had  formed  them  after  careful  and  patient  study  of  the  Bible, 
and  he  was  rwady  to  give  a  reason  for  holding  them." 

FROM  THE  HON.  ROBERT  C.  WINTHROP. 

Boston,  January  20,  1855. 

My  dear  Dr.  Sprague:  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  comply  with  your  request,  by 
bearing  testimony  to  the  sterling  qualities  of  my  late  Reverend  friend,  Dr. 
Young.  I  knew  him  well  for  many  j^ears  before  his  death,  and  alwaj^s  enjoyed 
his  conversation  and  society.  No  man  among  us  had  a  more  familiar  acquaint- 
ance with  the  treasures  of  English  literature.  The  series  of  selections  from 
the  Old  Prose  Writers,  which  lie  published  in  1839,  gave  ample  proof  of  his 
careful  discrimination  and  refined  taste,  while  it  introduced  to  the  reading 
community  of  our  country  some  of  the  choicest  productions  of  the  English 
language.  I  have  a  vivid  remembrance  of  my  own  sense  of  personal  indebted- 
ness to  him,  as  I  read,  for  the  first  time,  in  this  edition,  such  works  as  Felt- 
ham's  Resolves,  and  Fuller's  Holy  State,  and  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Defence  of 
Poesy,  and  Sir  Thomas  Browne's  Urn-burial.  He  was  a  diligent  student  of 
our  Colonial  Histor}^,  and  delighted  in  the  illustration  of  the  principles  and 
virtues  of  the  early  settlers  of  New  England.  His  "  Chronicles  "  of  the  Pil- 
grim Fathers,  and  of  the  Massachusetts  Planters,  will  bear  down  his  name  to 
posterity  in  fit  association  with  the  pure  and  pious  men  who  founded  our 
Commonwealth.  He  was  a  faithful  and  devoted  minister  of  the  Gospel,  accord- 
ing to  the  views  which  he  had  adopted  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Sacred  volume, 
and  his  example  was  ever  in  conformity  with  his  precepts.  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  meet  him  frequently  in  social  life,  and  had  abundant  evidence  that 
beneath  a  grave,  and  sometimes  stern  exterior,  he  had  a  warm  and  generous 
heart,  never  wanting  in  sympathy  with  the  sorrows  or  the  joys  of  those  about 
him. 

At  the  moment  your  note  reached  me,  I  was  reading  a  Memoir  of  Dr.  Young 
by  one  of  his  colleagues  in  the  Unitarian  ministr)"^,  and  I  cordially  commend  it 
to  your  notice,  as  a  just  and  faithful  delineation  of  his  life  and  character. 
You  will  find  it  in  the  new  volume  of  Collections  just  published  by  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Historical  Society,  of  which  Dr.  Young  was  one  of  the  most  valu- 
able members.     Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir, 

With  great  respect  and  regard,  your  friend  and  servant, 

ROBERT  C.  WINTHROP. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  ALLEN,  D.  D. 

NoRTHBOROUGH,  September  1,  1863. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  recollections  of  the  late  Dr.  Young  are  every  way  so  agreea- 
ble that  it  is  only  a  pleasure  to  me  to  communicate  them  to  you.     I  was  in 


ALEXANDER   YOUNG.  52Y 

intimate  relations  with  him  during  his  whole  ministry,  and,  as  I  had  the  charge 
of  the  education  of  his  son  for  some  time,  he  spent  two  or  tliree  summers  in 
this  place,  only  going  to  Boston  to  supply  his  pulpit  on  the  Sahbath.  During 
this  period  we  were  often  together,  in  unreserved  intercourse,  by  means  of 
which  I  became  acquainted  somewhat  minutely  with  his  habits  of  thought  and 
feeling,  and  his  views  of  a  great  variety  of  subjects.  We  also  occasionally 
exchanged  pulpits,  and  often  met  on  public  occasions,  where  his  presence  was 
always  felt  to  be  an  element  of  interest.  Indeed  there  has  been  no  minister  in 
Boston,  since  the  removal  of  m}^  brother-in-law,  Dr.  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  whom 
I  have  known  more  intimately  than  Dr.  Young. 

In  his  exterior  he  was  plain  and  unostentatious,  and  gave  you  the  idea  of  a 
straight-forward,  honest,  earnest  man.  He  was  scarcel}'  of  medium  height, 
but  was  robust  and  portly,  and  his  whole  appearance  indicated  a  vigorous  con- 
stitution and  firm  health.  Ilis  manners  were  gentlemanly  and  sufficiently 
free,  indicating  what  he  really  possessed, — much  good  nature  and  kindliness  of 
spirit.  While  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  dignity  appropriate  to  his  office,  he 
had  a  keen  relish  for  the  enjoyments  of  social  life,  and  could  appreciate  a  good 
hit  as  well  as  any  other  man.  Ilis  mind,  I  should  say,  was  rather  solid  than 
brilliant — it  moved  in  a  clear  path,  and  accomplished  its  results  with  ease  and 
certainty,  but  its  movements  Avere  not  rapid.  He  was  an  intense  lover  of 
books,  and  his  librar}'-,  which  was  admirabl}'  selected  and  very  extensive,  fur- 
nished ample  treasures  to  his  cultivated  taste.  He  was  especially  fond  of  his- 
torical research,  and  the  contributions  which  he  has  made  to  the  early  history 
of  the  Colony  of  Massachusetts  are  of  themselves  sufficient  to  render  his  name 
imperishable.  He  was  a  most  careful  and  industrious  collector  of  remarkable 
facts,  while  yet  he  was  careful  to  distinguish  between  what  was  authentic, 
and  what  was  doubtful  and  merely  traditionary.  Hence  his  historical  works 
are  justl}'  regarded  as  of  the  highest  authority. 

In  his  religious  opinions  Dr.  Young  was  a  decided  Unitarian,  but  he  had  no 
sympathy  with  those  who  would  be  called  extremists  in  his  denomination. 
His  preaching  was  generally  practical,  rarely  what  would  be  called  doctrinal, 
and  seldom,  if  ever,  controversial.  Indeed  I  have  some  doubts  whether  even 
his  own  people  knew  what  were  his  views  in  respect  to  some  of  the  contro- 
verted points  of  theolog3^ — not  from  any  unwillingness  on  his  part  to  avow 
them,  but  from  a  conviction  that  other  themes  would  better  subserve  their 
edification  and  profit.  His  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  grave  and  dignified,  and 
seemed  to  indicate  that  he  felt  the  importance  of  the  work  in  which  he  was 
engaged.  He  had  an  unusual  felicity  in  delineating  character;  and  hence  his 
Funeral  Discourses  were  always  listened  to  with  the  deepest  interest.  You 
will  not  wonder,  I  think,  at  this,  if  you  look  into  some  of  the  Commemorative 
Sermons  which  he  has  published,  particularly  those  on  President  Kirkland  and 
the  Hon.  William  Prescott. 

Dr.  Young  had  a  large  share  of  executive  talent,  and  his  influence  was 
widely  felt  through  many  different  channels.  He  was  remarkably  methodical 
in  his  habits,  having  a  time  for  every  thing,  and  never  allowing  one  duty  to 
interfere  with  another.  He  had  nothing  of  a  proselyting  spirit;  and  though 
honestly  devoted  to  the  interests  of  his  own  denomination,  he  never  sought  to 
increase  its  numbers  by  any  means  of  an  unfair  or  doubtful  character.  Hence 
he  never  made  himself  obnoxious  as  a  partizan,  and  among  the  wise  and  good 
of  other  denominations  he  numbered  many  friends.  His  death  occasioned 
deep  lamentation  far  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  church. 

With  great  respect,  I  am  yours  truly, 

J.  ALLEN. 


528  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 


GEORGE  WADSWORTH  WELLS  * 

1827  —  1843. 

George  Wadsworth  Wells  was  born  in  Boston,  October  19,  1804. 
His  parents  were  Seth  and  Hannah  (Doane)  Wells,  both  members  of  the 
West  Church,  lately  Dr.  Lowell's,  now  Dr.  Bartol's.  He  fitted  for  Col- 
lege at  the  Boston  Latin  School  ;  entered  at  Harvard  in  1819  ;  and  grad- 
uated in  1828.  He  entered  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge  iniine- 
diately  after  iiis  graduation  ;  passed  througli  the  regular  course,  and  was 
licensed  to  preach  by  the  Boston  Association,  on  the  24tli  of  July,  1826. 
In  the  autumn  following  he  went  to  the  South  as  far  as  Washington  City, 
and  preached  one  Sabbath  there,  one  in  Philadelphia,  and  six  in  Baltimore  ; 
and,  after  his  return,  supplied  the  pulpit  in  Chauncy  Place,  Boston,  four 
months,  commencing  with  January,  1827.  He  subsequently  preached  in 
Kennebunk,  Me.,  where  he  was  received  with  great  favour,  and  was  invited 
by  the  church  there  to  become  their  Pastor.  This  invitation  he  accepted, 
and  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  24th  of  October,  1827,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Lowell,  of  Boston,  under  whose  ministry  he  had  been  reared,  preach- 
ing the  Sermon, 

On  the  30th  of  May,  1833,  Mr.  Wells  was  married  to  Lucia  Gardiner, 
daughter  of  John  and  Martha  (Hubbard)  Fairfield,  of  Boston. 

Mr.  Wells  continued  laboriously  employed  in  the  field  of  labour  to  which 
he  was  now  introduced,  during  a  period  of  eleven  years.  He  had  never  a 
vigorous  physical  constitution,  and  it  proved  inadequate  to  withstand  the 
severity  of  the  climate,  especially  the  bleak  exposure  of  the  coast  on 
which  the  town  of  Kennebunk  lies.  Admonished  by  his  failing  health,  he 
betook  himself,  for  one  winter,  to  the  milder  climate  of  Savannah,  Ga. ; 
and,  during  his  stay  in  that  city,  served  as  a  supply  to  the  Unitarian 
church.  He  remained  there  during  the  winter  of  1837-38,  and  was  so 
much  recruited  that  he  returned  to  the  scene  of  his  accustomed  labours, 
with  strong  hopes  that  he  had  experienced  lasting  benefit  from  the  change. 
In  this,  however,  both  himself  and  his  friends  were  disappointed  —  it  soon 
became  apparent  that  he  could  not  endure  the  rigours  of  another  winter  in 
the  region  in  which  his  lot  had  been  cast.  He,  therefore,  most  reluctantly 
made  up  his  mind  to  leave  Kennebunk,  and  accepted  a  call  from  the  First 
Congregational  Church  and  Society  in  Groton,  jMass.  lie  preached  his 
Farewell  Sermon  at  Kennebunk  on  the  21st  of  October,  1838,  and  was 
installed  at  Groton  some  time  the  next  month. 

Mr.  Wells  ministered  with  great  acceptance  to  the  co!)gregation  of  which 
he  now  became  Pastor,  though  it  was  manifest  that  he  laboured  under  the 
disadvantage  of  very  imperfect  health.  He  continued  to  preach,  however, 
without  much  interruption,  until  the  first  Sabbath  in  February,  1843, 
when  he  had  become  too  much  indisposed  to  justify  any  further  efiFort. 
About  that  time  he  was  attacked  with  a  violent  sick-head-ache,  which  was 
followed  by  great  exhaustion,  and  derangement  of  the  digestive  organs — 

•  Memoir  by  Dr.  Bartol.— MS.  from  his  Son,  Rev.  J.  D.  Wells. 


GEORGE    WADSWORTH    AVELLS.  529 

his  power  of  vision  was  also  seriously  affected,  insomuch  that  lie  was 
unable  to  distinguish  the  faces  of  his  friends.  He,  however,  continued 
very  cheerful,  and  dwelt  much  on  the  advantages  of  sickness,  especially  as 
furni.sliiiig  an  opportunity  for  meditation  and  self-communion.  He  was 
very  fond  of  music,  and  often  attempted  to  sing  some  favourite  tune  ;  and 
•when  he  found  himself  unable  to  proceed,  he  would  continue  to  repeat  the 
hymn  to  the  end.  So  also  he  took  great  pleasure  in  repeating  selections 
from  the  Psalms,  remarking,  at  tlie  same  time,  upon  their  great  force  and 
beauty.  On  the  Saturday  immediately  preceding  his  death,  he  was  seized 
with  a  violent  pain  in  the  region  of  the  heart ;  and  when  it  was  intimated 
to  him  that  his  recovery  was  probably  hopeless,  he  received  the  intelligence 
with  perfect  composure.  After  a  moment's  pause,  he  said, — "It  is  hard 
to  break  these  ties,  but  God's  will  be  done."  In  taking  leave  of  his  wife 
he  counselled  her  to  be  calm,  and  put  her  trust  in  God,  and  then  said  a 
few  words  to  his  children  and  others  around  him.  After  this,  he  revived 
considerably,  but  his  mind  often  wandered,  and  it  was  evident  that  the 
time  of  his  departure  was  at  hand.  For  the  last  twenty-four  hours  of  his 
life,  he  suffered  the  most  intense  agony,  and  was  unable  to  make  any  intel- 
ligible communication  to  his  friends.  He  died  on  the  night  of  the  17th  of 
March,  his  death  being  the  result  of  a  complication  of  difficulties,  aggra- 
vated, if  not  occasioned,  by  excessive  exertion.  His  Funeral  was  attended 
on  the  21st,  and  an  Address  delivered  on  the  occasion  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Bartol,  of  Boston. 

Mr.  Wells  left  behind  him  a  widow  and  three  children, —  two  sons  and: 
one  daughter,  all  of  whom  still  (1864)  survive.  His  eldest  son,  (^JohnDoane,)' 
was  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1854,  studied  Theology  at  the  Divinity 
School,  Cambridge,  and  is  now  (1864)  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Quincy,. 
Mass. 

The  following  are  Mr.  Wells'  publications  : — 

A  Tract  entitled  "  The  Christian  Inquirer's  Difficulties,  1834.  The 
Cause  of  Temperance  the  Cause  of  Liberty:  An  Address  delivered  at 
Sanford,  Me.,  before  the  First  Temperance  Association  in  York  County,. 
1835.  The  Dangers  and  Duties  of  those  whose  Faith  is  misunderstood  : 
A  Discourse  delivered  at  the  Unitarian  Church  in  Savannah,  1837.  TwO' 
Farewell  Sermons  delivered  at  Kennebunk,  1838.  A  Sermon  preached  at 
the  Ordination  of  David  Fosdick,  Jr.,  as  Minister  of  the  First  Parish  in 
Sterling,  Mass.,  1841. 

In  1844  there  were  published,  in  a  duodecimo  volume,  fifteen  Sermons 
by  Mr.  Wells,  together  with  a  Memoir  of  his  Life,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  BartoL 

The  following  paragraph,  taken  from  Mr.  Wells'  Farewell  Sermon  at 
Kennebunk,  will  convey  some  idea  of  his  views  of  some  of  the  leading 
doctrines  of  the  Gospel. 

"  "With  regard  to  the  character  and  offices  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  repi-esentedHim,. 
as  lie  is  set  forth  in  the  Scriptures,  as  the  Son  of  God,  inferior  to  and  dependent  upon 
tlie  Fatlier.  hy  whom  He  was  sanctified  and  sent  into  the  world,  and  from  whom  He 
received  his  power,  his  wisdom,  and  his  authority.  He  came  into  the  world  that  He 
might  bring  about  a  reconciliation  between  God  and  man; — not  by  changing  the  dis- 
position of  God,  but  by  changing  the  character  and  disposition  of  man, — leading  him 
to  understand  his  relation  to  God,  awakening  him  to  repentance,  persuading  and  assist- 
ing him  to  fulfil  the  duties  which  he  owes  to  God  and  his  fellow  men.  The  doctrine  of 
the  Atonement  I  have  represented  as  one  and  the  same  thing  with  this  reconciliation.. 

Vol.  VIII.  34 


530  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

I  have  taught  that  we  receive  the  atonement  wlienever  we  are  led,  by  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ,  to  turn  unto  the  Lord  our  God,  and  to  serve  Him  as  our  rightful  Sovereign  and 
Ruler  This  atonement,  I  have  taught,  is  effected  by  the  character  and  life  of  Jesus, 
in  which  lie  exemplified  the  beauty  of  holiness  by  his  instructions,  in  which  He  made 
known  to  us  the  disposition  and  i)urposes  of  God,  the  nature  and  destiny  of  man;  and 
especially  by  his  death,  revealing  tiie  infinite  depth  of  liis  own  love  to  man,  and 
kindling  a  love  like  his  own  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  tlius  leading  the  soul  in  jieni- 
tence  and  holy  resolution  back  to  its  fiirsaken  God.  The  Saviour's  Cross  I  have  not 
failed  to  hold  up  before  you  as  the  great  means  of  human  redemption,  virtue  and  hap- 
piness. Thousands  have  yielded  to  the  power  of  tliat  Cross,  who  have  resisted  all 
other  influences  and  hardened  themselves  against  all  other  impressions." 

FROM  THE  REV.  0.  A.  BARTOL,  D.  D. 

Boston,  March  16,  1864. 

My  dear  Sir:  In  complying  with  your  request  for  my  recollections  of  the 
Rev.  G.  W.  Wells,  you  will  allow  me  to  avail  my.self  of  some  notices  of  his 
character  that  I  wrote  shortly  after  his  death,  when  my  remembrances  of  him 
were  more  fresh  and  distinct  than  the}"-  are  now.  It  is  only  a  labour  of  love 
with  me  to  pay  the  tribute  to  his  memory  you  ask  for;  for  he  was  as  much 
the  man  in  the  minister,  and  minister  in  the  man,  as  any  one  I  ever  knevi^. 

I  feel,  after  all,  my  inability  to  speak  worthily  of  the  character  of  this 
departed  friend.  Though  I  long  knew  and  loved  him,  the  wide  separation  of 
our  spheres  of  labour  gave  me  fewer  opportunities  than  I  could  have  coveted 
for  that  close  daily  observation  which  is  requisite  in  order  to  speak  with  con- 
fidence of  personal  dispositions.  But  his  qualities  were  so  simple  and  evident, 
his  heart  was  so  transparent,  that  some  brief  delineation  I  may  not  fear  to 
give.  His  most  conspicuous  trait,  which  struck  the  casual  observer,  and 
seemed  to  be  the  very  habit  and  posture  of  his  mind,  was  humility.  And  by 
this  I  mean  not  so  much  a  feeling  of  distrust, — for  he  respected  and  relied 
upon  the  powers  God  had  given  him, — as  an  absence  of  all  pretension  and 
self-exaltation.  I  have  never  known  one  whose  freedom  from  every  sort  of 
assumption  of  undue  forwardness  was  more  entire.  He  set  up  no  claim.  He 
thrust  in  no  interference.  He  invaded  no  man's  place  or  right.  He  envied  no 
man's  distinction.  He  craved  no  man's  praise.  He  was  quiet  and  possessed 
in  himself,  and  made  neither  show  nor  noise  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty. 
J  have  thought  he  withdrew  himself  too  much  from  the  notice  and  acquaint- 
ance of  others.  I  feel  sure  that  nothing  but  this  voluntary  retirement  pre- 
vented a  much  wider  intercourse  and  fame,  such  as  he  secured  wherever  he 
could  not  keep  his  worth  from  being  known.  His  self-renouncing  modesty  so 
abstained  from  the  least  presuming,  as  with  some  to  inspire  a  feeling  of  awe 
•and  distance,  like  what  might  have  come  from  another  man's  pride.  He  had 
■even  a  <liffidencc  of  granting  his  services  to  the  Society  of  which  he  was  a 
child,  which  they  could  but  once  overcome,  though  I  believe  no  one  was  heard 
among  them  more  acceptably. 

Tliough  he  had  studied  diligently  the  character  of  Him  wlio  was  "  meek 
and  lowly  in  heart,"  he  was  by  no  means  of  a  weak  and  3Melding  temper.  He 
was  not  the  man  to  surprise  into  unworthy  concessions.  No  man  ever 
planted  himself  more  firmly  on  the  ground  of  his  convictions  and  principles, 
and  pursued  more  without  wavering  the  course  they  prescribed.  Thus  he 
reduced  to. a  beautiful  harmony  qualities  both  good  and  useful,  which  might 
■seem  at  first  sight  incompatible. 

But  the  remarkable  composition  of  his  character  T  have  not  yet  fully  set 
■forth.  Hi."!  self-sacrifice  was  as  prominent  as  his  self-reliance;  his  feeling  as 
ovarra  and  flowing  as  his  resolve  was  enduring.  His  pledge  to  the  great  Cap- 
tain of  his  salvation  he  adhered  to,  and  as  a  good  soldier  redeemed.  But,  at 
the  same  time,  he  denied  himself.  I  do  not  know  wliether,  if  I  should  inquire 
of  some  intimate  companion  concerning  his  traits,  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice 


GEORGE    WADSWORTH   WELLS.  531 

"would  not  be  the  words  spoken  sooner  than  any  others  I  have  used.  Disinter- 
estedness entered  largely  into  his  spiritual  elements  and  his  daily  walk.  No 
stranger  was  he  to  that  living,  ever-burning,  immeasurable  principle, — the 
essence  of  God,  the  actuating  motive  of  Jesus,  and  the  crown  of  his  religion, — 
the  principle  of  love. 

And  all  the.se  moral  qualities  were  sustained  and  made  effective  in  a  pro- 
fession, the  demands  upon  which  seemed  to  be  daily  increasing,  by  strong  and 
sound  powers  of  mind.  He  was  naturally  thoughtful.  I  have  heard  from 
those  who  had  opportunities  to  know  the  truth  that  his  bent  was  more  to 
inward  reflection  than  to  outward  observation,  though  his  aims  and  his  method 
were  altogetiier  practical.  And  I  should  suppose  he  inclined  rather  to  the 
severe  processes  of  reasoning  than  to  flights  of  imagination;  while  over  all  his 
intellectual  faculties  the  moral  and  spiritual  predominated.  Doubtless  he, 
like  others,  had  faults;  but  I  never  observed  nor  have  been  informed  of  any 
appearances  of  such,  not  resolvable  into  some  excess  of  the  main  principles 
entering  into  the  composition  of  the  virtues. 

Wlierever  Mr.  Wells  laboured  in  the  ministry,  he  reached  his  hearers'  minds 
and  hearts.  He  met  with  the  most  gratifying  success.  It  was  not  the  success 
of  that  loud  and  transient  admiration,  which  so  often  deceives  both  the 
preacher  and  the  congregation,  but  the  success  of  making  the  people  more  seri- 
ous in  their  religious  inquiries,  more  bent  upon  personal  virtue,  and  more 
imbued  with  devotion  to  God.  Few  have  reached  so  simply  and  entirely,  to 
the  extent  of  the  powers  and  opportunities  granted,  the  ends  of  the  ministe- 
I'ial  profession. 

The  personal  appearance  of  Mr.  Wells  was  impressive  altogether  beyond  his 
physical  proportions.  He  was  of  a  slender  frame,  but  a  weighty  presence. 
Slightly  stooping,  as  though  from  habitual  thought  and  a  studious  habit, 
serious  in  his  look  and  grave  in  his  manner, — so  that  his  smile  was  like  a  burst 
of  sunsliine  on  a  sober  day, — yet  no  one  could  be  with  him  without  feeling 
how  kind  and  genial  was  his  atmosphere.  He  was,  indeed,  one  that  bore  a 
heavenly  air  on  earth.  Very  sincerely  yours, 

C.  A.  BARTOL. 

FROM  GEORGE  B.  EMERSON,  LL.  D. 

Boston,  March  25,  1SG4. 

My  dear  Sir:  In  answer  to  your  favour  of  the  12th,  I  am  sorry  to  have  little 
to  say. 

I  knew  Mr.  Wells  at  one  time  very  well,  and  valued  and  admired  and  loved 
him  very  much.  I  had  been  but  slightly  acquainted  with  liim  before  he  became 
the  minister  in  my  native  parish,  and  the  dear  and  honoured  friend  of  my  par- 
ents and  sisters, —  m3'^  nearest  relatives  and  friends.  He  was  brother  of  my 
classmate,  J.  D.  Wells,  M.  D.,  whom  I  had  known  intimately  and  loved  dearly, 
first  in  College,  as  a  gentle,  pure,  sincere,  modest,  shy,  delicate,  unprotendiu"- 
boy;  then  as  the  reverential,  earnest,  exact,  truth-loving  student  of  the  won- 
ders of  the  human  frame;  then  as  the  able,  thoroughly  prepared,  clear,  pow- 
erful and  eloquent  lecturer  on  human  anatomy,  famous  soon  in  Maine  and  in 
Maryland;*  and,  at  last,  as  a  dying   Christian,  stretched  on  his   bed,  worn 

*  At  a  meeting  with  some  of  his  classmates  one  evening,  after  Dr.  Wells  had  become  famous 
as  a  lecturer,  one  of  them,  who  knew  the  scrupulous  fidelity  of  his  professional  studies,  asked 
him  how  he  prepared  himself  for  one  of  his  lectures,  and  his  answer  was  substantially, — 
for  I  cannot  recal  the  very  words  :  "  When  I  have  given  a  lecture  in  the  morning,  and  am  ex- 
pected to  give  another  at  the  same  hour  next  day,  I  commonly  sit  down  by  my  fire,  and, 
■without  looking  at  a  book  or  at  a  plate,  set  myself  to  find  out  exactly  what  I  want  to  say.  I 
get  a  clear  idea  of  every  point,  arrange  every  thing  carefully  in  what  seems  to  me  the  natural 
order,  and  continue  to  think  until  I  have  clearly  and  distinctly  before  my  mind,  in  every  par- 
ticular, from  beginning  to  end,  the  whole  of  what  I  shall  have  to  say.  Then  I  am  ready. 
My  only  tools  in  the  process  of  preparation  are  the  poker  and  the  tongs." 


632  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

out  by  too  long  continued  thought,  study  and  labour, —  submitting,  without 
a  murmur  to  the  will  of  his  God,  anxious  only  on  account  of  his  mother  and 
others  nearest  him,  and  looking  forward  with  unwavering  faith  and  trust  to 
the  world  opening  before  him. 

When  I  heard  that  the  brother  of  this  man  was  settled  in  my  native  town, 
I  natuiall}'  felt  a  strong  interest  in  the  fact,  and  took  an  early  opportunity  to 
go  '<  home  "  and  get  acquainted  witli  him,  to  see  whether  he  weie  really  in 
mind,  character  and  devotedness,  the  brotlier  of  my  friend. 

Tliat  visit  was  very  satisfactory,  as  were  many  otheis  which  I  made  after- 
wards. I  found  the  old  church  tilled  as  I  had  never  seen  it  before.  I  found 
peo})le  coming  in  from  the  neighbouring  parishes, —  I  heard  of  meetings  for 
religious  conversation,  I  attended  one  of  them  and  immediately  saw  that,  as 
soon  as  Mr.  Wells  began  to  speak,  it  was  indeed  a  religious  meeting.  There 
were  the  unmistakable  earnestness  and  sincerity,  and  the  unpretending  dif- 
fidence, which  I  knew  the  meaning  of. 

Mr.  AVells  had  thrown  off  the  Sectarian  if  he  had  ever  been  one,  and  had 
become  a  Preacher  of  the  simple  Gospel,  so  that  neighbouring  believeis,  of 
other  persuasions,  were  glad  to  listen  to  him  and  have  him  come  and  preach 
for  them. 

I  accompanied  him  one  day,  after  the  services  in  his  own  church,  to  a  school- 
house,  at  sojue  distance,  which  we  found  full  of  ready  and  anxious  hearers. 
Here  I  heard  not  a  word  of  Sectarianism  —  he  had  come  out  not  to  preach 
Unitarianism,  but  to  help  to  make  those  people  better  men  and  women,  more 
faithful  servants  of  God,  and  more  loving  followers  of  the  Saviour. 

I  was  some  years  older  than  Mr.  Wells,  and  had  been  his  Tutor  in  College, 
and  I  took  the  liberty  of  an  elder  teacher.  On  our  way  home,  I  advised  him 
to  throw  away  his  notes  and  to  preach  extempore.  «'  You  will  get  much 
nearer  to  the  hearts  and  the  lieads  of  those  poor  people  in  the  school  house, 
if  you  let  them  hear  you  speaking  from  the  strength  of  your  own  convictions, 
and  as  moved  by  your  own  feelings,  than  if  they  see  you  reading  from  a  writ- 
ten paper."  His  natural  difBdence  filled  his  thought  with  the  impossibility 
and  his  mouth  with  excuses.  I  urged  the  point,  and  soon  sent  him  "  Ware 
on  Extemporaneous  Preaching,"  which  had  just  come  out.  This  spoke  to  a 
kindred  spirit  and  did  the  woik.  Mr.  Wells  afterwards  lightened  his  labour 
and  made  it  more  effective,  by  taking  into  the  pulpit  at  first  only  an  outline 
or  the  heads  of  his  discourse,  and,  in  the  end,  by  having  nothing  before  him 
but  the  Bible.  Some  of  the  most  touching  and  powerful  of  his  discourses 
came  thus,  as  his  parishioners  often  assured  me,  from  the  abundance  of  his 
unwritten  thoughts  and  the  warmth  of  his  unfettered  affections. 

I  remember  the  sad  disappointment  of  his  parishioners  and  other  friends, 
•when  it  was  decided  that  he  could  no  longer  bear  the  climate  of  the  sea-coast 
and  must  go  inland. 

After  his  removal  I  never  saw  him. 

If  any  thing  which  I  have  said  can  be  of  any  use  to  you,  it  is  gladly  placed 
at  your  disposal.  Very  respectfully  yours, 

GEORGE  B.  EMERSON. 

FROM  THE  HON.  GEORGE  S.  BOUTWELL. 

EX-GOVERNOR  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  MEMBER  OF  CONGRESS,  ETC. 

Washington  City,  April  15,  1864. 

Dear  Sir:  My  recollections  of  the  Rev.  George  W.  Wells  are  not  very  dis- 
tinct, as  it  is  now  more  than  twenty  years  since  his  death.  He  was  below, 
rather  than  above  the  medium  size,  of  good  proportions,  features  fine,  and  a 
rare  delicacy  of  expression.     His  forehead  was  broad,  and  the  cast  of  his  face 


WILLIAM   HUNT    WHITE.  533 

intellectual.  He  was  reserved  and  gentle  in  his  manners,  but  in  the  pulpit  he 
was  sufficiently  bold,  and  never  hesitated  to  avow  his  opinions  on  all  proper 
occasions.  His  st3'le  of  writnig  was  clear,  chaste,  methodical  and  persuasive. 
His  sermons,  as  I  remember  them,  were  often  argumentative,  tliough  I  should 
not  say  that  his  preaching  generally  was  of  a  highly  logical  cast. 

There  was  in  Mr.  Wells  a  marked  absence  of  the  mannerism  not  uncommoa 
among  the  clergy.  In  daily  life,  he  always  appeared  the  upright,  intelligent, 
considerate.  Christian  gentleman. 

You  could  not  say  that  he  was  highly  distinguished  for  any  particular  trait; 
but  lie  was  a  rare  example  of  the  harmonious  combination  of  good  intellec- 
tual endowments  with  high  moral  characteristics. 

Very  respectfully, 

GEOllGE  S.  BOUT  WELL. 


WILLIAM  HUNT  WHITE. 

1827  —  1853. 

FROM    THE    REV.    EPHRAIM    ABBOT. 

Wkstford,  Mass.,  August  5,  1864. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  In  compliance  witli  your  request,  I  send  ynu  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  a  minister  wliom  I  knew  well,  wIkiui  I  greatly  esteemed 
and  Intnoured  while  he  lived,  and  who  is  still  embalmed  in  my  affection- 
ate remembrances. 

William  Hunt  White  was  bom  in  Lancaster,  Mass.,  February  4, 
1798.  His  parents  were  rich  in  piety,  but  not  in  worldly  goods.  His 
father,  Deacon  Joseph  White,  and  his  ancestors  for  three  or  four  genera- 
tions, lived  on  the  same  homestead,  and  were  successively  Deacons  in  the 
same  church.  Tlie  name  of  his  mother  before  marriage  was  Rebecca 
Hoar — she  was  from  Lincoln,  JIass.,  and  was  sister  to  the  father  of  the 
late  Hon,  Samuel  Hoar,  of  Concord.  His  fatlier  died  July  1,  1806,  aged 
fifty-five,  leaving  a  widow  and  eight  children,  with  little  for  tlieir  support 
besides  his  good  name  and  worthy  chaiacter.  His  pious,  intelligent  and 
affectionate  mother  lived  to  see  him  settled  in  the  ministry,  and  died  3Iarch 
28,  1828,  aged  sixty-six. 

My  acquaintance  with  Mr.  White  commenced  soon  after  his  Ordination. 
I  bad  no  previous  knowledge  of  him,  and  am  therefore  dependent  on  others 
for  facts  respecting  his  early  life. 

When  nine  or  ten  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  Westminster  to  live  with 
his  mother's  brother,  where  he  remained  working  on  the  farm  till  he  was 
twenty-one  years  old.  During  this  period  he  acquired  a  taste  for  agricul- 
ture, and  became  so  skilful  in  it  that  he  improved  the  productiveness  and 
value  of  whatever  land  he  cultivated.  I  once  asked  him  who  sowed  his 
grain  for  him.  He  replied  that  he  never  trusted  anybody  but  himself  to 
sow  for  him.  Yet  he  did  not  permit  his  love  of  agriculture  to  prevent  a 
faithful  performance  of  his  ministerial  duties.  He  had  constantly  in  hia 
mind  that  he  was  a  servant  of  Christ,  and  was  desirous,  above  all  other 
things,  to  be  faithful  to  Him. 


534  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

It  is  believed  that  lie  had,  from  his  early  years,  a  conscientious  rever- 
ence for  God,  and  was  considered  by  all  who  knew  him  as  a  young  man  of 
much  more  than  ordinary  promise.  At  the  age  of  twenty-one  he  had 
received  only  a  common  school  education,  and  his  pecuniary  resources  were 
limited  to  one  hundred  dollars,  yet  he  resolved  to  obtain  a  college  educa- 
tion and  to  devote  himself  to  the  Gospel  ministiy.  He  commenced  his 
preparatory  studies  in  public  schools,  but  afterwards  found  meaiis  of  pros- 
ecuting them  under  that  able  and  faithful  teacher,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stearns, 
of  Lincoln,  who  was  very  successful  in  improving  the  knowledge  and  morals 
of  jnany  who  have  since  become  useful  and  honourable  members  of  society. 
While  in  Lincoln  he  studied  with  great  diligence,  endeavouring  to  over- 
come the  disadvantages  he  experienced  from  want  of  better  opportunities 
in  his  earlier  years.  A  companion  of  his,  at  that  time,  has  represented 
that  he  had  then  three  commanding  objects  in  view — namely,  to  obtjiin  a 
liberal  education,  to  be  settled  in  the  ministry  at  Littleton,  and  to  win  a 
daughter  of  his  predecessor,  Rev.  Edmond  Foster.*  In  each  of  tliese 
particulars  his  desires  were  realized.  After  completing  his  preparatory 
studies,  he  entered  Brown  University,  and  graduated  with  honour  in  1824. 

The  change  from  active  labour  on  his  uncle's  farm  to  the  sedentary 
habits  of  a  student  had  an  unhappy  effect  on  his  health.  He  is  believed  to 
have  been  an  invalid  during  the  whole  of  his  collegiate  and  ministerial  life  ; 
and  it  is  more  than  probable  that  his  ill  health  prevented  attainments  which 
would  have  given  him  high  literary  reputation.  He  had  quick  perceptions 
and  a  discriminating  mind  ;  but  he  had  not  health,  nor  strength,  nor  time 
to  devote  to  high  intellectual  accomplishments  ;  and  besides,  his  convic- 
tions of  duty  led  him  in  a  different  direction.     His  grand,  controlling  desire 

•Edmond  Foster  was  born  in  North  Reading,  (then  called  Wood  End,)  on  the  18th  of 
April,  1752.  Being  left  an  orphan  at  the  age  of  seven  years,  and  in  indigent  circuinstiinces, 
his  education  was  acquired  altogether  by  his  own  exertions.  He  was  graduated  at  Yale 
College  in  1778;  and,  having  pursued  his  theological  studies  under  the  direction  of  the  Kev. 
Dr.  Forbes,  of  Raynham,  and  afterwards  under  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stearns,  of  Lincoln,  he  was 
licensed  to  preach,  and,  on  the  17th  of  January,  1781,  was  ordained  and  irstalled  Pastor  of 
the  church  and  town  of  Littleton,  where  he  continued  till  his  death,  which  occurred  on  the 
28th  of  March,  1826,  in  his  seventy-fourth  year.  On  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Concord  he 
was  at  home  on  a  vacation;  and,  having  heard  of  the  movement  of  the  British,  he  and  sev- 
eral otlier  young  men  shouldered  their  guns,  and  hastened  to  the  scene  of  conflict;  but  the 
invaders  had  left  before  they  reached  there.  He  represented  the  town  in  which  he  lived  in 
the  State  Legislature  in  1810,  '11  and  '12,  and  was  a  member  of  the  Senate  for  two  or  three 
years  afterwards.  He  was  also  a  member  of  the  Convention  for  revising  the  State  Constitu- 
tion in  1820.  His  salary  being  small,  he  laboured  on  a  farm  and  taught  a  school  for  many 
years.  On  the  29th  of  October,  1783,  he  was  married  to  a  daughter  of  the  Rev.  William 
Lawrence  [who  was  born  in  Groton,  Mass.,  May  7,  1723;  was  graduated  at  Harvard  College 
in  1743;  was  ordained  and  installed  Pastor  of  the  church  in  Lincoln,  December  17,  1718, 
and  died  April  II,  1780,  aged  fifty-seven,]  and  had,  by  this  marriage,  thirteen  children — 
ten  of  whom  arrived  at  mature  age.  Three  of  his  sons  were  commissioned  officers  in  the  War 
of  1812-1815;  and  one  has  been  a  representative  in  Congress  from  Virginia,  where  he 
bought  a  plantation,  sold  a  part  of  it,  and  cultivated  the  remainder  by  free  labour.  Mr. 
Foster  was  married,  a  second  time,  on  the  23d  of  January,  1816,  to  Joanna  Leary,  of  Lin- 
coln, but  had  no  children  by  this  marriage.  He  was  a  man  of  great  animal  and  moral  cour- 
age, and  strong  powers  of  both  body  and  mind,  which  he  retained,  in  an  unusual  degree,  till 
the  close  of  life.  He  was  much  respected  in  the  region  in  which  he  lived,  both  as  a  Divine 
and  a  Civilian.  He  is  understood  to  have  been,  in  his  theological  views,  Anticalvinistic  and 
Unitarian.  He  published  a  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Jonathan  Osgood  [who  was  born  at 
Westford,  Mass.,  in  the  year  1761;  was  graduated  at  Yale  College  in  1787 ;  was  ordained, 
and  installed  as  Pastor  of  the  church  in  Gardner,  Mass.,  October  19,  1791;  and  died  May 
21,  1821,  in  his  sixty-first  year]  ;  a  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Josiah  Hartwell,  at  Littleton, 
1793;  a  Discourse  at  Westford  before  the  Middlesex  Martial  Band,  1808;  The  Massachusetts 
Election  Sermon,  1812;  a  Sermon  at  Littleton  on  the  Death  of  Deacon  Daniel  Kimball, 
1813;  a  Sermon  at  Littleton  on  the  Completion  of  a  Century  from  the  Incorporation  of  the 
Town,  1815;  and  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon  at  Littleton  for  the  Restoration  of  Peace,  1815. 


WILLIAM    HUNT    WHITE.  535 

evidently  was  to  imitate  the  example  of  Christ,  and  do  all  in  his  power  to 
advance  his  kingdom. 

Shortly  after  his  graduation,  Mr.  White  entered  the  Cambridge  Divinity 
School,  where  he  completed  his  theological  course  in  1827.  His  first 
efforts  in  the  pulpit  were  received  with  marked  favour,  and  each  of  the 
only  two  parishes  (namely,  Kingston  and  Littleton,)  in  which  he  preached 
as  a  candidate,  invited  him  to  become  its  Pastor.  He  accepted  the  call 
from  Littleton,  and  was  ordained  there  on  the  2d  of  January,  1828 — the 
Rev.  Dr.  Thayer,  of  Lancaster,  preaching  the  Ordination  Sermon.  The 
religious  controversy  which  divided  so  many  towns  in  New  England  had, 
up  to  this  time,  had  little  influence  on  Littleton  ;  and  Mr.  White,  being  a 
great  lover  of  peace,  studiously  endeavoured  to  keep  out  all  elements  of 
strife  from  among  his  people.  In  this  he  was  very  successful  until  the 
year  1840,  when  Mr.  Miller,  the  founder  of  the  sect  called  "  LaLter-Daj 
Saints,"  established  his  headquarters  in  that  town,  which  was  the  signal 
for  an  immense  and  almost  universal  excitement.  The  result  was  that,  in 
the  space  of  one  year,  four  new  churches,  including  one  built  by  Mr. 
White's  Society,  were  erected  in  Littleton,  a  town  containing  less  than 
one  thousand  inhabitants.  Mr.  White's  congregation  was  still  respectable 
for  numbers,  and  among  those  who  composed  it  there  were  an  unusual  pro- 
portion of  men  of  weight  and  influence.  During  the  excitement  to  which 
I  have  referred,  so  judicious  and  Cliristian  was  the  course  pursued  by  Mr. 
White,  that  he  commanded  the  respect  of  all  and  excited  tlie  prejudices  of 
none.  He  did  not  waste  his  energies  on  what  he  regarded  errors,  but 
preached  earnestly  truths  which  he  believed  was  fitted  to  dissipate  them. 
Only  four  families  left  his  Society  during  the  excitement.  The  whole 
number  admitted  to  his  church  during  his  ministry  was  one  hundred  and 
eleven. 

Mr.  White  was  frequently  in  Ministerial  Councils,  and  assisted  at  the 
Ordination  and  Installation  of  about  thirty  ministers.  The  Middlesex 
North  Unitarian  Association  was  formed  at  his  house,  and  principally 
through  his  influence.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Middlesex  North  Agri. 
cultural  Society,  and  he  was  prevented  only  by  ill  health  from  complying 
with  an  invitation  to  deliver  an  Address  at  its  annual  meeting.  He  was 
an  active  member  of  the  Temperance  Societ}',  and  an  earnest  advocate  of 
its  cause  and  of  the  other  great  reforms  of  the  day.  He  was  a  Trustee 
of  the  Westford  Academy,  and,  as  a  member  of  the  Examining  Committee, 
showed  that  he  had  much  general  as  well  as  classic  and  scientific  knowledge. 
He  had  a  good  knowledge  of  language,  and  could  write  and  speak  in  a 
flowing  and  even  elegant  style  ;  but,  in  his  preaching  and  in  his  conversa- 
tion with  his  people,  he  conscientiously  avoided  the  use  of  hard  words. 
His  ministrations  were  all  characterized  by  great  simplicity.  He  preached 
from  his  inmost  heart.  His  Sermons, — to  use  an  expression  of  the  younger 
Dr.  Ware, — "had  the  power  of  sympathy  and  the  clearness  of  knowledge.'*" 
Hence  he  was  always  listened  to  with  interest  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and' 
no  clergyman  was  more  heartily  welcomed  in  any  of  the  neighbouring 
pulpits. 

Mr.  White's  religious  opinions  were  formed  from  a  careful  study  of  the. 
Holy  Scriptures.     While  he  was  fully  convinced  of  the  absolute  unity  of 


536  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

God,  he  always  spoke  of  Jesus  Christ  in  a  manner  that  implied  his  pre- 
exi.steiioe  ;  (hat  implied  that  He  was  to  him  what  a  mere  mai»  could  not.  be. 
The  Rev.  Charles  llobinson,  a  former  minister  of  the  adjoining  town  of 
Groton,  for  many  years  his  coten)porary,  thus  speaks  of  liirn  : — "  He  was  a 
diligent  student  of  the  Bible,  reading  it  not  so  much  with  the  eye  of  the 
critic  as  with  the  insight  of  the  devout  and  experienced  Chri.stian,  and 
reading  it  that  he  might  draw  therefrom  wherewithal  to  nourish  his  own 
inward  life,  and  minister  to  the  spiritual  necessities  of  others.  But  that 
which,  more  than  any  thing  else,  perhaps,  marked  and  di«tinguir<hed  our 
brother  as  a  Preacher,  was  the  tone  of  deep  solemnity,  tlie  unaffected 
earnestness,  the  spiritual  glow  and  unction  that  characterized  his  ministra- 
tions. He  was  always  direct  and  impressive,  addressing  himself  not  so 
much  to  the  intellect  or  imagination  of  his  hearers  as  to  tlieir  consciences. 
His  theme  he  felt  was  Divine,  needing  no  rhetorical  flourishes,  no  elaborate 
graces  of  style,  to  set  it  forth.  Speaking  from  the  fulness  of  an  earnest 
and  loving  heart,  he  spoke  to  the  hearts  of  his  auditors,  and  sent  them 
away,  not  to  talk  of  the  fine  sermon  they  had  heard,  but  to  think  of  (heir 
sins,  and  duties,  and  dangers  and  needs.  By  his  departure,  a  voice,  an 
influence,  an  example  has  been  removed  from  the  Church,  which,  in  these 
times  of  spiritual  dearth  and  poverty,  it  can  ill  afford  to  spare." 

Mr.  Wliite  was  very  faithful  in  his  pastoral  duties.  In  a  New  Year's 
Sermon  he  said, — "  I  have  averaged  two,  three  and  four  calls  annually  in 
your  families."  The  Rev.  Barzillai  Frost,  in  an  Obituary  notice  of  liim, 
published  in  the  Christian  Examiner  in  1853,  renders  the  following  testi- 
mony to  his  pastoral  fidelity  : — "  These"  (referring  to  the  calls  which  he 
made  upon  his  people)  "  were  not  fashionable  calls  we  are  sure.  They  were 
calls  of  the  man  of  God,  and  the  most  frequent  where  they  were  most 
wanted  ;  and  he  brought  not  only  spiritual  comfort  but  material  aid.  We 
learn  from  the  best  authority  that  he  would  give  the  last  cent  to  the  needy ; 
and  although  his  means  were  small,  his  charities  were  large.  *  *  *  * 
While  he  gently  fed  the  feeble  of  his  flock,  he  carried  the  lambs  in  his 
bosom.  His  Sunday  School  was  his  pride  and  his  joy.  For  about  twelve 
years  "  (before  his  decease)  "  a  large  portion  of  the  adult  congregation  had 
formed  themselves  into  a  class  to  carry  on  their  religious  inquiries  and 
improvement.  In  the  absence  of  their  Pastor,  they  chose  from  their  num- 
ber a  class-leader  to  conduct  their  exercises." 

During  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  was  Chairman  of  the  School 
Committee,  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  years,  and  he  performed  all  the 
duties  pertaining  to  his  position  with  religious  fidelity;  and  by  his  exertions 
the  general  tone  of  intelligence  in  the  town  was  greatly  elevated.  In  1829 
a  Lyceum  was  established,  chiefly  through  his  influence,  of  which  he  was 
President  most  of  the  time,  and  an  active  supporter  as  long  as  he  had  power 
to  aid  it. 

Mr.  White  was  always  cheerful,  even  in  sickness.  Though  very  modest, 
he  was  of  an  ardent  temperament,  and  engaged  with  a  will  in  whatsoever 
he  undertook.  He  had  great  fortitude  and  perseverance,  and  often  attended 
funerals,  visited  schools,  prepared  and  delivered  discourses,  under  a  degree 
of  feebleness  and  suffering  which  would  have  discouraged  many  others  from 
attempting  such  services.     About  two  years  before  his  decease,  his  malady 


WILLIAM    HUNT    WHITE.  537 

began  more  decidedly  to  develop  itself.  At  first  it  was  thought  to  be 
atrophy  ;  but  it  was  afterwards  found  to  be  an  aifection  of  the  heart.  He 
received  a  shock  by  being  upset  in  a  sleigh,  which  occasioned  great  loss  of 
blood  from  the  nose.  He  afterwards  had  frequent  returns  of  such  bleeding 
till  his  blood  became  almost  as  white  as  water.  During  this  suffering  his 
nervous  system  was  much  excited,  his  reason  was  affected,  and  his  spirits 
in  no  small  degree  depressed;  but  before  his  departure  tlie  cloud  passed 
away,  his  accustomed  cheerfulness  returned,  and  he  was  filled  with  peace 
and  joy. 

On  tlie  afternoon  before  his  decease  he  asked  his  family,  and  a  brother 
present  on  a  visit,  to  sing.  Tliey  sung  his  favourite  hymn, — "  There  is  a 
land  of  pure  deliglit,"  and  in  some  of  the  words  he  united  his  voice. 
Soon  after,  supposing  him  asleep,  they  were  about  to  unite  in  evening  de- 
votion; but,  on  taking  his  hand  and  speaking  his  name,  there  was  a  soft  and 
then  a  deep  sigh — an  indication  as  it  proved  tliat  his  work  was  done  and  that 
he  was  passing  to  his  reward.  He  died  on  the  25th  of  July,  1853.  The 
Sermon  at  his  Funeral  was  preached  by  the  llev.  David  Fosdick,  who  had 
supplied  Mr.  White's  pulpit  fur  several  months  previous  to  his  death.  I  wag 
requested  to  preach  on  the  next  Sabbath,  and  the  following  is  an  extract 
from  tlie  Discourse  which  I  delivered. 

'«  This  Church  and  Society  liave  been  called  to  resign  to  God  who  gave 
him,  a  faithful  and  devoted  Pastor,  and  an  able  Minister  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
whose  praise  is  in  all  the  churches  ;  who,  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  has  been  instant  in  season  and  out  of  season,  by  night  and  by  day, 
in  labouring  for  your  good.  He  was  willing  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  you. 
If  he  was  in  his  study,  it  was  to  prepare  instructions  for  you,  which  might 
make  you  wise  unto  salvation.  If  he  visited  the  sick,  it  was  that  he  might 
present  to  them  the  instructions  and  the  consolations  of  the  Gospel,  and  sup- 
plicate for  theui  the  pardon  of  their  sins,  and  restoration  to  health  or  pre- 
paration for  the  rest  that  reniaineth  for  the  people  of  God.  If  he  visited 
from  house  to  house,  it  was  that  he  might  awaken  (he  careless  to  considera- 
tion, and  guide  the  inquiring  to  a  knowledge  of  God,  and  of  Jesus  Cln-ist, 
whom  to  know  aright  is  life  eternal.  If  he  journeyed  or  worked  with  his 
own  hands,  it  was  that  by  bodily  exercise,  and  by  diverting  his  thoughts 
from  severe  studies,  he  might  gain  strength  to  fulfil  the  ministry  he  had 
received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  "finish  his  course  with  joy,  and  render 
up  his  account  with  rejoicing."  He  has  laboured  for  you  to  the  extent  of 
his  strength  —  may  I  not  say  beyond  his  strength.  He  probably  shortened 
his  days  by  his  zeal  and  exertions  to  promote  religious  education  and  the 
best  interests  of  all  to  Avhom  his  influence  extended.  Though  his  charity 
began  at  home,  it  did  not  end  there.  He  was  frequently  in  Councils,  in 
Societies,  in  Corporations  and  Associations,  where  his  opinions,  given  with- 
out ostentation,  were  always  judiciously  adapted  to  the  occasion,  and  list- 
ened to  with  interested  and  respectful  attention.  Whenever  he  preached 
in  pulpits  other  than  his  own,  his  services  were  always  received  with  high 
approbation,  and  I  shall  not  say  too  much  if  I  add,  frequently  with  much 
admiration. 

"  His  long  sickness  has  given    you  opportunity  to  witness  his  patience 
under  sufferings,  his  resignation   to   the   Divine  will,  his  love   to   God  Iq 


538  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Christ,  Ills  faitli,  liis  hope  and  liis  joy  in  believing.  He  said  to  me  in  one 
of  tlie  visits  I  made  him  during  his  sickness, — "  I  could  lie  down  to  rise 
no  more  as  cheerfully  as  I  ever  lay  down  to  rest."  However  his  sickness 
Aveakened  his  body  or  his  mind,  it  took  notliing  from  his  faith  or  his  hupe. 
On  the  contrary,  as  his  bodily  strength  failed,  his  faith  in  Clirist,  in  his 
instructions  and  in  his  promises,  seemed  to  increase.  His  soul  seemed  to 
look  through  the  chinks  of  his  decaying  tabernacle,  and  to  see  more  dis- 
tinctly the  goodness  and  the  grace  of  God  as  manifested  in  the  Gospel,  and 
he  seemed  to  have  that  perfect  love  wiiich  castot.h  out  fear." 

Mr.  White  was  joined  in  marriage  to  Miss  Sarah  Bass  Foster,  daughter 
of  the  Rev.  Edmund  Foster,  at  Sliirley,  on  the  12th  of  February,  1S29. 
They  had  six  children,  three  of  whom,  with  their  mother,  still  survive. 
I  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  the  widow  and  children  are  worthy  of  their 
relationship  to  this  excellent  man. 

Mr.  White  was  of  about  the  medium  height.  His  form,  thougli  rather 
slender,  was  well  proportioned.  Though  his  complexion  was  dark,  his  coun- 
tenance was  pleasant  and  very  expressive,  and  more  cheerful,  even  in  sick- 
ness, than  is  usual  in  persons  in  health.  His  eyes  were  black  and  uncom- 
monly brilliant,  and,  though  capable  of  exoiling  awe,  strongly  expressed 
the  benevdleiice  of  his  heart.  His  manners  were  unassuming,  easy,  win- 
ning and  dignified.  Children  and  young  people  looked  up  to  him  wit.li  con- 
fidence and  respect,  and  conversed  with  him  with  as  little  restraint  as  with 
a  kind  parent,  and  received  his  instructions  with  attention  and  pleasure. 
As  ever  yours,  with  high  esteem  and  respect, 

EFHilAIM  ABBOT. 


CHARLES  THEODORE  CHRISTIAN  FOLLEN,  D.C.L.* 

1828  —  1840. 

Charles  Theodore  Christian  Follen,  the  second  son  of  Christo- 
pher FoUen,  Counsellor  at  Law  and  Judge,  was  born  at  llonirud,  in  Hesse- 
Darmstadt,  on  the  4th  of  September,  17^6.  His  mother,  who  was  distin- 
guished for  her  excellent  qualities  both  of  n)ind  and  of  heart,  died  wheh 
he  was  hardly  three  years  old  ;  but,  when  he  was  a  little  more  than  seven, 
his  father  gave  him  another  mother,  who  well  supplied  the  place  of  her  who 
had  been  taken  away.  He  received  his  elementary  education  at  the  Col- 
lege of  Giessen.  Here  he  studied  the  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  French,  and 
Italian  languages.  In  the  spring  of  1813,  and  before  he  was  yet  seventeen 
years  of  age,  he  passed  the  regular  examination  with  great  honour,  and 
received  permission  to  enter  the  University  of  Giessen.  He  immediately 
devoted  himself  to  Jurisprudence. 

It  was  shortly  after  he  entered  the  University  that  Germany  declared 

war  against  France.     Animated  by  a  spirit  of  glowing  patriotism,  he  joined 

a  corps  of  riflemen  ;  but,  a  few   weeks    after  he  left  home,  he  had  a  very 

severe  attack  of  the  typhus  fever,  which  prevented  him  from  seeing  much 

*  Memoir  of  his  Life  by  Mrs.  Follen. 


CHARLES    THEODORE    CHRISTIAN    FOLLEN.  539 

active  service.  At.  the  restoration  of  Peace  in  1814,  lie  returned  to  Gics. 
sen,  and  resumed  the  study  of  Jurisprudence  at  tlie  University.  He  soon 
became  distinguished  for  his  liberal  sentiments,  and  attached  liimself  to  a 
union,  or  Burschenschaft,  which  was  strongly  suspected  of  aiming  at  poliu- 
eal  revolution,  and  he,  by  his  extraordinary  zeal  and  activity,  rendered 
himself  especially  obnoxious.  He  wrote  a  defence  of  the  Binsckenschaft, 
and  many  patriotic  songs,  which  were  published  at  Jena  in  1819;  and  he 
was  one  of  the  authors,  though  it  was  not  known  at  the  time,  of  the  cele- 
brated "  Great  Song,"  which  was  considered  as  breathing  the  spirit  of  sedi- 
tion. In  jMarch,  1818,  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Civil  Law  ; 
and  began  immediately  to  lecture  on  the  various  parts  of  Jurisprudence, 
while  he  studied  the  practice  of  the  Law  at  the  Court  where  his  father 
presided. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Dr.  Follen  was  led  to  a  thorough  investiga- 
tion of  tlie  Evidences  of  Revealed  Religion.  It  was  impossible  that  a 
mind  constituted  like  his  should  receive  any  system  upon  trust  ;  and  hence 
he  set  himself  to  the  diligent  study  of  the  whole  subject  of  Christianity, 
and  more  especially  of  all  the  deistical  and  pantheistical  objections  that 
have  been  urged  against  it.  The  result  was  a  most  unwavering  conviction 
that  the  Bible  contains  a  Revelation  from  Heaven,  In  one  of  his  lectures 
in  which  he  was  urging  a  courageous  examination  of  the  arguments  for  and 
against  Christianity,  he  said, — "  For  myself,  I  can  certainly  say  that,  next 
to  (he  Gosp(d  itself,  the  books  that  have  been  written  against  it  have  been 
the  most  efficient  promoters  of  my  belief  in  its  Divine  truth." 

In  1818,  when  Dr.  Follen  was  only  twenty-two  years  of  age,  he  was 
employed  as  Counsellor  in  a  cause  of  very  high  importance.  The  Govern- 
ment had  passed  a  law  establishing  a  commission  to  collect  the  debts  of 
the  communities  of  towns  and  villages  of  the  Province  of  Hesse,  incurred 
during  the  late  war  ;  and  these  communities  employed  Dr.  Follen  to  resist 
what  they  deemed  an  unreasonable  claim  on  the  part  of  the  Goverrunent. 
A  remonstrance  had  already  been  made  against  it,  but  the  Government  had 
met  it  only  with  a  frown,  and  threatened  to  deprive  any  counsellor  of  his 
office  who  should  venture  to  place  himself  in  conflict  with  this  oppressive 
law,  Follen,  nothing  daunted  by  this  threat,  did  not  hesitate  to  undertake 
the  cause;  and  he,  accordingly,  drew  up  a  petition  in  relation  to  the  mat- 
ter, which  was  presented  to  the  Grand  Duke,  and  distributed  extensively 
among  the  people.  He  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  repeal  of  the  law,  but  he 
did  it  at  the  expense  of  bringing  upon  himself  a  bitter  persecution,  and 
ruining  all  his  hopes  in  his  own  Province.  Under  these  circumstances,  he 
left  Giessen,  and  accepted  an  invitation  to  lecture  in  the  University  of  Jena. 

When  he  had  been  in  Jena  about  six  months,  Kotzebue,  who  had  long 
been  an  object  of  hatred  and  contempt  to  the  liberal  party  on  account  of 
his  heartless  ridicule  of  their  most  cherished  purposes,  was  assassinated  by 
a  young  fanatic  in  the  cause  of  freedom  by  the  name  of  Sand.  Follen 
was  accused  of  being  an  accomplice,  and  was  twice  arrested  ;  but,  though 
every  possible  effort  was  made  to  prove  him  guilty,  there  was  no  evidence 
against  him,  and  he  was  honourably  acquitted.  About  the  same  time  he 
was  arrested  on  the  charge  of  being  the  author  of  the  "  Great  Song,"  but 
here  again  there  was  an  utter  absence   of  any  proof  upon  which  he  could 


540  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

be  convicted.  Still,  he  was  not  a  little  annoyed  by  these  artful  examina- 
tions ;  and,  being  forbidden  to  continue  his  lectures  in  Jena,  he  returned 
to  Giessen. 

Here  he  quickly  discovered  that  he  was  still  an  object  of  suspicion  with 
the  Government,  and  that  they  were  even  making  their  arrangements  to 
imprison  him.  Being  satisfied  that  his  only  safety  was  in  flight,  he  resolved 
on  leaving  Germany.  He  stopped  first  at  Strasburg,  where  he  occupied 
himself  fur  some  little  time  in  the  study  of  architecture.  His  clothes, 
books,  and  valuable  papers,  which  he  left  behind,  were,  by  his  request, 
directed  to  him  at  Strasburg  ;  but  the  vessel  by  which  they  were  sent  took 
fire,  and  every  thing  that  was  designed  for  him  was  destroyed.  While  at 
this  place,  he  made  a  visit  to  Paris,  where  he  became  acquainted  with 
Lafayette,  and  through  him  with  the  Abbe  Gregoire,  Benjamin  Constant, 
and  many  other  persons  of  note.  After  the  murder  of  the  Duke  of  Berri, 
an  order  was  passed  by  the  French  Government  requiring  all  foreigners  to 
quit  France  who  were  not  there  on  special  business  that  met  the  sanction 
of  the  Government.  This  obliged  Dr.  FoUen  to  leave  the  country  ;  but, 
fortunately,  just  at  this  time  the  Countess  of  Benzel  Sternau,  who  knew 
his  story,  invited  him  to  visit  her  at  her  country  seat  upon  the  Lake  of 
ZuricI),  in  Switzerland.  He  accepted  the  invitation,  and  there,  for  some 
time,  enjoyed  the  most  generous  and  refined  hospitality,  as  well  as  one  of 
the  richest  scenes  of  natural  beauty  which  the  world  afifords. 

In  the  summer  of  1821,  while  Dr.  Follen  was  at  Zurich,  he  received  an 
invitation  to  become  a  Professor  at  the  Cantonal  School  of  the  Grisons  in 
Switzerland,  of  which,  shortly  after,  he  signified  his  acceptance.  But  in 
his  Lectures  on  History  to  the  higher  classes,  he  advanced  certain  views 
favourable  to  Unitarianism,  which  gave  ofi"ence  to  some  Calvinistic  minis- 
ters, and  ultimately  awakened  an  extensive  prejudice  against  him  in  tlie 
Canton.  He  requested  of  the  Evangelical  Synod  an  audience,  at  their 
next  meeting,  for  the  purpose  of  defending  the  doctrines  he  had  put  forth  ; 
and  the  request  was  granted,  but  the  meeting  was  so  hastily  dissolved  that 
he  was  notable  to  gain  a  hearing.  The  Moderator,  however,  who  was  con- 
sidered at  the  head  of  the  Calvinistic  clergy  in  that  Canton,  gave  him  a 
certificate  of  his  having  applied  to  the  Synod  for  an  audience,  and  also  of 
the  general  acceptableness  of  his  services  in  connection  with  the  institu- 
tion. Dr.  Follen  now  asked  of  the  Council  of  Education  his  dismission 
from  the  School,  and  he  received  it  with  another  very  high  testimonial  in 
respect  to  his  talents,  learning,  and  fidelity  as  a  teaelier. 

Soon  after  it  was  known  that  Dr.  Follen  was  about  to  leave  Cliur,  (for 
that  was  the  seat  of  his  school,)  he  was  appointed  Public  Lecturer  of  the 
University  of  Basle,  where  he  taught  the  Natural,  Civil,  and  Ecclesiastical 
Law,  together  with  Logic,  and  the  Philosophy  of  the  mind  in  its  applica- 
tion to  lleligion,  Morals,  Legislation,  and  the  Fine  Arts.  He  also,  with 
DeWette  and  some  other  Professors  in  the  University,  edited  a  literary 
journal  ;  which  contains  two  important  treatises  of  his — one  on  "  The  Des- 
tiny of  Man,"  the  other  on  "The  Doctrine  of  Spinoza,"  particularly  in 
regard  to  Law  and  Morals. 

During  his  residence  both  at  Chur  and  Basle,  a  demand  was  made  by 
the   Allied  Powers   for  his  surrender  as  a  Revolutionist.     It  was  twice 


CHARLES    THEODORE    CHRISTIAN    FOLLEN.  541 

refused,  but,  on  its  renewal  a  tliird  time,  accompanied  with  a  declaration 
that  a  continued  refusal  would  inlerrupt  the  harmony  that  existed  between 
the  two  Governments,  Basle  coTisented  to  his  arrest,  and  an  order  for  it 
was  accordingly  issued.  As  soon  as  this  became  known,  his  numerous 
friends  were  on  the  alert  to  provide,  if  possible,  for  his  safety  ;  and  one 
of  them  actually  took  him  out  of  the  city,  secreted  under  the  boot  of  his 
chaise,  while  another,  whose  personal  appearance  strongly  resembled  his, 
gave  him  his  passport.  He  left  Basle  on  the  27th  of  October,  1824,  in 
the  mail  coach,  and  arrived  at  Paris  on  the  30tli,  where  he  found  his  friend. 
Dr.  Beck,  who  had  left  Basle  a  few  days  before  him.  They  proceeded 
together  to  Havre,  and  imme<iiafely  engaged  their  passage  in  the  Cadmus, 
Captain  Allen;  but  the  sailing  of  the  vessel  was  delayed  four  days  by  a 
contrary  wind,  and  it  was  not  till  she  was  actually  under  weigh  that  Dr. 
FoUen  could  feel  any  security  that  he  should  not  be  arrested  and  impris- 
oned.  He  was  occupied  during  the  voyage,  partly  in  developing  and  matur- 
ing a  long  cherished  scheme  of  religious  philanthropy,  partly  in  learning 
the  English  language,  and  partly  in  studying,  with  his  friend.  Dr.  Beck,  a 
German  work  on  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  He  arrived  safely 
at  New  York  on  the  19tli  of  December, 

Shortly  after  his  arrival,  he  wrote  to  his  friend.  General  Lafayette,  who 
was  then  in  this  country,  invoking  his  influence  in  procuring  for  him  some 
field  of  useful  occupation.  The  result  was  that,  through  the  exertions  of 
Mr.  Duponceau,  of  Pliiladelphia,  and  Professor  Ticknor,  whom  General 
Lafayette  enlisted  in  his  behalf,  he  was  appointed,  in  the  autumn  of  1825, 
teacher  of  the  German  language  in  Harvard  University, 

Dr.  FoUen  now  established  himself  at  Cambridge,  and  met  a  cordial 
welcome  from  the  Faculty  of  the  College,  and  especially  from  its  Presi- 
dent, Dr.  Kirkland.  A  class  was  soon  formed  in  Boston  to  hear  his  Lec- 
tures on  the  Civil  Law,  and  this  introduced  him  at  once  to  much  of  the 
best  society  in  the  metropolis.  In  the  spring  of  1826  he  accepted  a  pro- 
posal to  take  charge  of  a  Gymnasium  in  Boston  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  he 
undertook  the  direction  of  the  gymnastic  exercises  of  the  students  in  Har- 
vard College,  Almost  in)mediately  after  going  to  Cambridge,  he  began  to 
prepare  a  German  Reader,  and  then  a  German  Grammar  ;  while  he  devoted 
no  small  part  of  his  time  to  the  study  of  the  English  language  and  litera- 
ture. 

In  the  winter  of  1826-27  the  teachers  of  the  Sunday  School  in  Dr. 
Channing's  church  were  accustomed  to  meet  in  his  study,  once  a  fortnight, 
to  discuss  with  him  and  each  other  the  subject  of  religious  education, 
Dr,  Follen,  by  request  of  one  of  the  teachers,  attended  these  meetings  ; 
and  the  very  intelligent  and  satisfactory  part  that  he  took  in  them  led  one 
of  his  friends,  who  was  present,  to  suggest  to  him  the  idea  of  becoming  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel.  At  first,  he  thought  there  were  insuperable  obsta- 
cles to  it ;  but  further  reflection  convinced  him  of  the  contrary,  and  he  was 
very  soon  engaged  in  preparing  himself  to  preach,  being  greatly  aided  by 
the  sympathy  and  counsel  of  his  friend,  Dr.'Channing.  In  consequence  of 
this  change  of  purpose,  he  resigned  the  charge  of  the  Boston  Gymnasium. 

On  the  28th  of  July,  1828,  Dr.  Follen  was  regularly  admitted  as  a  can- 
didate for  the  ministry.     He  preached  on  the  following  Sunday  for  the  Rev. 


642  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

Mr.  Green\voo(],  at  King's  Chapel,  and  inuiiediately  after  received  an  invi- 
tation to  supjily  the  pulpit  at  Nahant,  for  three  or  four  Sundays!,  during 
Lis  college  vacation.  In  August  of  this  year  he  was  appointed  Permanent 
Instructor  in  Ecclesiastical  History  and  Ethics  in  the  Theological  School 
connected  with  the  College.  On  the  15th  of  September  he  was  married  to 
Eliza  Lee,  daughter  of  Samuel  and  Sarah  Cabot,  of  Boston  ;  and  thev 
immediately  commenced  house-keeping  in  Cambridge. 

In  the  summer  of  1830  Dr.  FoUen  spent  several  weeks  at  Newburyport, 
supplying  the  Unitarian  congregation,  and  in  due  time  he  received  an  invi- 
tation to  become  their  Pastor.  This  invitation  he  would  probably  have 
accepted,  but  that,  about  the  same  time,  he  was  elected  Professor  of  Ger- 
man Literature  at  Harvard, — an  office  which,  on  several  accounts,  he 
thought  it  best  to  accept.  In  the  autumn  of  this  year  he  resigned  his 
place  as  Teacher  of  Ethics  and  Ecclesiastical  History  ;  and  thus  terminated 
his  connection  with  the  Cambridge  Divinity  School.  Shortly  after  this  he 
made  his  arrangements  for  deiivering  a  course  of  Lectures  on  Moral  Philo- 
sophy in  Boston,  which  attracted  much  attention,  and  were  on  the  whole 
very  successful. 

In  the  summer  of  1833  Dr.  Follen  became  deeply  interested  in  the 
writings  and  doings  of  the  Anti-slavery  Society,  which  had  then  been  in 
existence  only  one  year.  His  mind  was  strongly  drawn  in  that  direction, 
insomuch  that  he  felt  himself  called  upon  to  become  identified  with  the 
enterprise,  even  though  admonished  by  some  of  his  friends  that  such  a  step 
might  prejudice  his  interests  in  connection  with  the  University.  As  the 
term  of  subscription  for  the  German  Professorship  was  to  expire  in  a  little 
more  than  a  year,  he  was  desirous  of  ascertaining  whether  it  would  be 
renewed,  and,  if  not,  whether  any  other  f-atisfactorj'  provision  in  the  Col- 
lege would  be  made  for  him  ;  but  it  turned  out  that  the  Professorship  was 
to  be  discontinued,  and  no  other  arrangement  was  proposed  by  which  he 
could  be  retained  in  the  institution.  As  this  left  him  with  only  five  liun- 
dred  dollars  a  year,  as  Teacher  of  the  German  language,  for  the  support 
of  his  family,  he  found  it  necessary  to  seek  employment  elsewhere;  and, 
accordingly,  he  projected  a  plan  for  establishing  an  institution  of  a  very 
high  character  in  Boston,  to  be  styled  "  The  Boston  Seminary  ;"  but  his 
inability  to  command  the  requisite  pecuniary  resources  obliged  him  almost 
immediately  to  abandon  it.  In  the  winter  of  1834-35  he  preached,  for 
some  time,  to  a  number  of  families  in  East  Lexington,  who  had  requested 
him  to  assist  them  in  the  formation  of  a  Religious  Society  in  that  village. 
In  January,  1835,  he  communicated  to  the  Corporation  of  College,  through 
the  President,  his  resignation  of  his  office  as  German  Teacher,  which  was 
accepted.  Shortly  after  this  he  removed  to  Watertown,  and  received 
under  his  care  several  pupils,  and  in  the  autumn  of  that  year  removed  to 
Milton,  instead  of  passing  the  winter  in  the  city,  as  had  been  originally 
contemplated.  Though  this  was  a  very  pleasant  change  to  him,  and  his 
services  were  altogether  acceptable  to  his  employers,  he  felt  constrained, 
on  account  of  some  peculiar  circumstances,  to  relinquish  it  at  the  close  of 
the  year. 

In  April,  1836,  Dr.  Follen,  having  given  up  his  comfortable  establish- 
ment,  had  no  longer    any   fixed  home,    and  no    employment  was  offered 


CHARLES    THEODORE    CHRISTIAN    FOLLEN.  543 

him.  He  went,  with  his  family,  to  Stockbridgc,  where  he  took  lodgings, 
in  the  midst  of  some  kind  friends,  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  prosecute 
certain  literary  enterprises  which  he  had  projected.  In  June  he  made  a 
visit  to  Niagara  Falls,  and  proceeded  thence  to  Chicago,  where  he  addressed 
a  company  of  Unitarians,  and  was  instrumental  in  inaugurating  a  course  of 
measures  for  the  establishment  of  a  new  church. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Stockbridgc  he  received  an  invitation  to  preach 
two  Sundays  for  the  First  Unitarian  Society  in  New  York  ;  and,  having 
complied  with  this  request,  he  was  asked  to  remain  longer,  with  an  under- 
standing that  his  services  would  be  desired  at  least  for  the  ensuing  winter. 
Having  received  Ordination  in  Boston,  he  returned  to  New  York,  where 
he  came  under  an  engagement  to  preach  for  the  next  six  months;  and,  at 
the  end  of  that  time,  his  engagement  was  renewed  for  one  year.  But,  be- 
tween the  close  of  tlie  first  and  the  commencement  of  the  second  engage- 
ment, he  spent  a  few  weeks  in  supplying  the  Unitarian  Cliurch  in  Washing- 
ton, by  particular  request  of  Judge  Cranclr;  and  his  services  liere  were 
received  with  great  favour.  He  remained  in  New  York  until  May,  1838, 
when  he  took  leave  of  the  church  with  which  he  had  been  temporarily  con- 
nected, chiefly  on  account  of  the  opposition  to  him  which  had  been  excited 
by  his  intense  devotion  to  the  cause  of  Anti-slavery.  He  now  returned  to 
Boston,  and  took  lodgings  at  Milton,  intending  to  devote  his  whole  time  to 
his  "  Psychology,-'  a  favourite  work  which  was  then  in  progress.  He  very 
soon  transferred  his  lodgings  from  Milton  to  Boston,  and  officiated,  for 
some  time,  in  the  pulpit  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cunningham,  who  was  then  tem- 
porarily absent  from  his  charge. 

Dr.  FoUen,  after  much  deliberation,  had  resolved  on  visiting  his  friends 
in  Switzerland  ;  for  he  had  received  satisfactory  assurances  that  he  might 
do  this  with  safety,  though  it  was  thought  that  it  would  be  perilous  for  him 
to  attempt  to  visit  Germany.  But  he  was  prevented  from  carrying  out  his 
purpose  by  an  urgent  request  from  the  Society  in  East  Lexington,  which 
he  had  been  instrumental  in  gathering,  to  come  and  take  charge  of  their 
religious  concerns  for  six  months  or  a  year.  The  appeal  to  him  was  so 
earnest  that  he  knew  not  how  to  deny  it;  and  therefore  he  reluctantly  con- 
sented to  postpone  his  transatlantic  visit,  and  took  up  his  residence  at  East 
Lexington,  where  his  labours  were  highly  acceptable,  and  he  was  instru- 
mental in  the  erection  of  a  small  but  beautiful  church.  But  just  before 
the  church  was  to  be  dedicated,  he  had  occasion  to  go  to  New  York  to 
deliver  several  lectures.  During  his  sojourn  there,  Mrs.  Follen  was  taken 
seriously  ill,  and,  for  some  time,  her  life  was  nearly  despaired  of.  The 
15th  of  January  had  been  agreed  upon  as  the  time  for  the  Dedication  of 
the  church,  but  Mrs.  Follen's  illness  rendered  it  impossible  that  she  should 
return  so  early,  and  he  wrote  to  his  parish  requesting  that  the  dedicatory 
solemnity  might  be  deferred  a  little,  so  as  to  save  him  the  trouble  of  mak- 
ing two  journeys  in  the  winter;  but  they  did  not  see  their  way  clear  to 
accede  to  his  wishes.  Accordingly,  leaving  his  wife  and  child  behind  him, 
and  having  his  Dedication  Sermon  only  partially  prepared,  he  embarked  in 
the  steamer  Lexington,  on  the  13th  of  January,  for  Boston,  intending  to 
set  out  on  his  return  as  soon  as  the  services  of  the  Dedication  were  over. 
The  steamer,  before  she   had  half  made  her  passage,  took  fire,  and  large 


644  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

numbers,  among  whom  was  Dr.  Follen,  perislied  in  the  conflagration.  He 
left  a  widow,  who  since  died,  and  one  child,  (Charles  Christopher,)  wlio  was 
graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1849,  and  is  now  (1862)  an  architect  in 
Boston. 

Dr.  Follen's  works,  with  a  Memoir  of  his  Life  written  by  Mrs.  Follen, 
were  published  in  five  volumes,  in  1841. 

FROM  THE  REV.  GEORGE  F.  SIMMONS. 

Albany,  November  3,  1853. 

Jly  dear  Sir:  The  following  are  some  of  my  memories  of  Dr.  Follen,  and  I 
shall  be  glad  if  they  may  be  of  any  service  to  you. 

I  first  knew  him  as  a  teacher  in  the  Boston  Gymnasium.  In  the  various 
calislhenic  exercises  he  was  something  of  an  adept;  and  he,  all  his  life,  re- 
tained great  muscular  vigour,  and  would  lay  his  hand  on  the  rail  of  a  fence, 
and  k'iip  over  it  with  an  agility  and  ease  which  surprised  those  unaccustomed 
to  the  development  of  this  bodily  energy  in  scholars. 

In  the  pulpit,  a  certain  foreigii  accent  and  slowness  of  enunciation  rendered  his 
delivery  less  agreeable.  But  he  had  acquired  great  command  of  the  language, 
and  his  pronunciation  was  surprisingly  correct.  In  public  discourse  he  was 
distinguished  by  a  certain  fervent  simplicity,  a  kind  of  boyhood  of  mind, 
■which  he  ever  retained.  lie  was  also  distinguished  by  a  poetic  reverence  which 
is  characteristic  of  the  preachers  of  his  native  land,  which  showed  itself  still 
more  in  the  tones  of  his  voice  than  in  his  language.  IIis  enthusiasm,  which 
was  large,  never  seemed  to  find  full  vent  in  the  pulpit.  IIis  treatment  of  a 
subject  might  sometimes  be  esteemed  common-place.  lie  rarely  stirred  the 
deepest  sensibilities  of  his  audience.  His  preaching  was  usually  neither  pun- 
gent nor  commanding.  But  there  was  a  persuasive  gentleness  and  sincerity 
of  tone,  a  fairness  and  a  candour  in  argument,  and  a  maturity  of  thought, 
which  gained  the  respect  and  affectionate  assent  of  the  hearer. 

Dr.  Follen  took  a  lively  interest  in  the  Slavery  question,  and  was  an  uncom- 
promising and  outspoken  friend  and  member  of  the  Anti-slavery  league.  His 
zeal,  however,  never  betrayed  him  into  acerbity  or  intolerance.  He  was  not 
made  to  be  a  bigot  in  any  department  of  thought  or  action. 

In  private  his  manners  were  pleasing.  They  were  distinguished  b}'  suav- 
ity and  industrious  politeness.  He  was  much  loved  and  honoured  by  his  inti- 
mate friends.  When  I  was  a  boy  at  Dr.  Channing's  table,  I  made  bold  to 
enquire  of  the  host  if  he  «'  knew  Dr.  Follen."  "  Oh  j'es,  my  dear,"  replied 
the  Doctor,  in  his  tones  of  affectionate  sweetness,  "  he  is  a  very  dear  friend  of 
mine."     And  the  friendship  continued  strong  and  mutual  to  the  end. 

Dr.  Follen  had  the  features  and  stature  of  the  Suabian  race.  He  was  rather 
short,  with  a  round  and  large  head,  set  very  closely  on  square  shoulders,  a 
large  mouth  which  easily  relaxed  into  a  broad  smile,  eyes  set  very  far  apart, 
large  and  somewhat  projecting,  a  great  width  at  the  temples,  and  a  broad  and 
retreating  forehead,  on  which  a  little  thin  brown  silken  hair  lay  softly. 

Very  truly  yours, 

GEORGE  F.  SIMMONS. 

FROM  MISS  ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 

Boston,  June  15,  1854. 

My  dear  Sir:  Dr.  Follen  came  to  Boston  with  letters  to  the  Miss  Cabot, 
who  afterwards  became  his  wife,  from  Miss  Sedgwick,  the  authoress;  and 
she  proposed,  when  he  called  one  evening,  to  take  him  with  her  to  Dr.  Chan- 
ning's study,  where  were  used  to  gather  everj'  Thursday  evening  the  Sunday 


CHARLES    THEODORE    CHRISTIAN    FOLLEN.  545 

School  teachers  of  Dr.  C.'s  congregation,  to  consider  together  the  passages 
of  the  Gospels,  which  were  to  form  the  subjects  of  their  several  lessons  to 
their  classes,  on  the  ensuing  Sunday.  The  teachers'  meeting  had  been  some 
years  in  existence;  and,  in  the  course  of  time,  it  had  come  to  be  the  plan  to 
converse  upon  some  general  subject,  after  the  special  business  of  the  meeting 
was  over.  It  happened,  at  this  time,  that,  for  several  successive  evenings,  the 
subject  had  been  the  significance  of  the  death  of  Christ,  together  with  all 
its  circumstances,  especially  the  Agony  in  the  Garden.  Questions  were  asked 
by  various  individuals,  which  were  answered  by  whoever  had  any  thing  to 
say.  In  the  course  of  the  evening,  something  had  been  said  about  the  fact  of 
men's  dying  for  certain  causes,  and  from  the  inspiration  of  the  passions  merely. 
By  and  by,  Dr.  Channing,  looking  around  the  room  which  was  tilled  with 
people,  observed  Dr.  Follen,  quite  hidden  behind  the  rest,  and  said,  with  a 
desire  to  draw  him  out,  if  perchance  there  was  any  thing  in  him  worth  saying, 
— <<  Dr.  Follen,  can  you  tell  us  what  they  say  on  this  great  subject  in  your 
country?  " — We  none  of  us  knew  whether  he  had  any  religious  experience  or 
not;  or  if  he  had,  whether,  when  thus  suddenly  called  upon  among  strangers, 
he  could  or  would  express  himself.  He  was  extremely  modest,  and  his  colour 
deepened  and  mounted;  but  he  immediately,  with  great  simplicity  and  earnest- 
ness of  manner,  replied  in  a  speech  worded  with  the  greatest  perspicuity  and 
felicity  of  expression,  of  which  I  can  only  give   the  substance. 

lie  said  he  could  only  speak  for  himself,  and  did  not  know  as  he  could  ex- 
press himself  in  a  foreign  tongue,  upon  a  subject  so  sublime,  and  so  in- 
timately involving  religious  experience.  The  death  of  Christ,  he  thought, 
was  the  only  purely  moral  action  which  had  ever  been  done  on  the  plane  of 
humanity,  and  therefore  it  lifted  humanity  upon  a  higher  plane,  and  above  the 
passions,  putting  it  into  spiritual  union  with  God, —  which  he  considered  the 
atonement.  This  idea  had  come  to  him  in  such  a  way  as  to  illustrate  the 
words  —  <'  No  man  conieth  unto  me,  except  the  Father  draw  him."  "  I  was 
born  in  Germany,"  said  he,  <«  during  an  era  that  was  practically  atheistic. 
The  Catholic  religion  was  established  in  the  region  where  I  lived;  but  the  cul- 
tivated classes  did  not  profess  to  believe  it.  My  own  first  impression  of  Chris- 
tianity was  that  it  was  a  superstition  of  the  vulgar,  only  less  tasteful  in  its- 
imaginary  objects  than  those  presented  by  the  symbolic  Mythology  of  Greece 
and  Rome.  I  had  no  thought  that  any  one  believed  it, —  not  even  its  priests 
and  dispensers,  if  they  were  at  all  cultivated.  Q'here  is  no  part  of  Germany, 
so  entirely  irreligious  now.  The  wars  of  Buonaparte  produced  indirectly  a. 
general  religious  movement  among  the  Catholics  of  Germany,  as  well  as  among, 
the  Protestants.  I  was  a  student,  and  once,  on  an  examination  occasion,  I. 
was  shut  up  alone  in  a  room  in  which  was  no  furniture  but  a  table,  with  pen, 
ink  and  paper,  and  my  task  was  to  write  a  theme  explaining  the  well  known, 
fact  that  a  man  could  die  for  the  object  of  his  thought  and  afl'ection.  This- 
hour  began  a  new  era  in  my  life.  My  first  thought  was  utter  despair.  I  had 
never  retlected  on  the  subject  and  had  nothing  to  say.  But  there  was  a  neces- 
sity upon  me  —  I  asked  myself  how  I  was  to  gain  the  power  to  originate 
thoughts  on  my  theme,  and  I  was  brought  to  see  that  this  intellectual  power 
that  was  to  be  aroused  within  me,  must  have  a  fountain  of  supply  homoge- 
neous with  it;  for  it  was  plainly  not  self-intelligent  or  self-comprehending. 
The  exercise  by  which  it  strengthened  itself  to  accomplish  a  task  like  the 
present  one,  in  the  last  analysis,  could  be  but  an  act  of  recipiency  — effort  was 
action  upon  an  infinite  Spirit;  and  the  reaction  was  a  continuation  of  the  act, 
which  originally  created  me  a  conscious  being.  This  idea  of  living  communiont 
with  my  Creator  gave  me  a  flood  of  light,  and,  with  unquestioning  faitii  that 
power  would  be  given  me  to  comprehend  my  subject,  I  began  to  consider  the 
several  objects  which  history  proved  could  induce  a  man  to  give  up  his  life  — 

Vol.  VIII.  35 


546  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

■what  gave  up  and  what  was  given  up.  There  was  something  that  could  not 
die  within  a  man,  that  stood  up  as  it  were,  and  gave  away  what  was  below 
and  external  to  itself.  That  there  was  something  immortal  in  the  human  con- 
sciousness was  proved  by  the  fact  that  there  was  something  mortal  that  could 
be  separated  from  him  and  given  away  by  it.  The  unconscious  praj'er  of  faith, 
which  my  intellect  was  making,  thus  brought  a  revelation  of  immortality  as 
its  immediate  answer.  I  then  proceeded  to  analyze  the  objects  for  which  men 
had  sacrificed  themselves  in  Greece  and  Rome;  and,  finding  them  inadequate 
to  measure  the  power  of  giving  away  life,  I  remembered  that  the  nucleus  of 
the  popular  religion  was  a  death.  Having  finished  my  theme,  this  last  fact, 
of  which  I  knew  no  particulars,  was  not  forgotten,  and  drew  me  to  inquire 
into  the  history  of  Christianity :  and  at  length  I  found  and  read  the  New  Testa- 
ment." He  then  proceeded  to  state  the  views  of  the  death  of  Christ  which 
made  him  a  Christian.  It  was  all  exceedingly  individual  and  impressive.  The 
compan}-  sat  quite  entranced,  as  these  passages  of  the  deep  inner  life  were  so 
simply  narrated;  and  when  he  ended,  there  was  a  dead  silence. 

Dr.  Channing  had  been  entirely  absorbed,  his  countenance  growing  bi'ighter 
at  every  word,  and  when  it  was  done,  he  did  a  most  characteristic  thing,  (for 
he  was  the  most  straightforward  and  transparent  person  in  his  conduct.)  He 
saw  he  had  sprung  a  mine;  for  here  was  a  man  whose  religion  was  not 
an  inheritance,  nor  an  imitation,  nor  a  convention  of  society,  but  the  covenant 
of  a  consciously  finite  being  with  God,  begun  by  the  Spirit,  and  made  manifest 
in  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  Avished  the  whole  company  absent  that  he 
might  talk  with  Dr.  FoUen,  and  he  pulled  out  his  watch  and  rose  up.  Imme- 
diately the  whole  company  rose  also  with  a  smile  at  each  other,  and  began  to 
disperse;  while  he  stood,  rapt  in  thought,  till  there  was  a  free  path  between 
himself  and  Dr.  Follen.  Then  he  darted  towards  him,  held  out  his  hand,  and 
said,  with  the  most  impressive  cordiality, —  "  Dr.  Follen,  we  must  know  one 
another  more."  Dr.  Follen  gave  his  hand  with  a  face  glowing  with  feeling, 
and  eyes  full  of  tears,  though  they  shone  with  the  joy  of  mutual  recognition. 

And  from  that  moment  was  cemented  a  friendship,  that  never  had  a  shadow 
of  misunderstanding  fall  upon  it,  but  was  a  perfect  mutual  respect  and  tender 
love.  I  heard  them  talk  together  a  great  deal,  as  I  usually  spent  my  evenings 
with  Dr.  Channing;  and  I  heard  each  of  them  speak  of  the  other  frequently, 
when  they  were  apart.  They  were  in  union  upon  general  principles,  though 
Ihey  often  took  very  different  views  of  special  objects.  Dr.  Channing  was  the 
most  Germanic  mind  of  the  two,  if  we  define  the  Germanic  mind  as  that  which 
believes  that  individualities  are  of  depth  immeasurable  by  reason.  Dr.  Follen 
^tended  towards  sacrificing  individualities  to  laws,  and  individuals  to  humanity. 

I  remember,  in  illustration  of  this,  that,  on  the  question  <  whether,  if  your 
ffathfir  or  Fenelon  (who  stood  for  any  peculiar  benefactor  of  humanity)  were 
to  be  saved  from  death,  and  you  could   save  but  one,  you  should  save  j'our 

father  or  Fenelon,' Dr.  Follen  took  the  ground  that  you  should  save  Fenelon, 

Avhile  Dr.  Channing  inclined  to  follow  the  lead  of  the  natural  affection.  At 
.the  great  trial  in  .Escliylus'  Eumenides,  Dr.  Channing  would  have  taken  the 
side  of  the  Furies,  and  Dr.  Follen  that  of  Apollo,  I  am  sure.  When  consid- 
ering the  subject  of  gratitude  to  men,  I  remember  Dr.  Follen  took  ground 
against  cultivating  the  sentiment  of  gratitude  to  any  great  extent.  He  said 
the  despotisms  of  Europe  were  cemented,  to  a  great  degree,  by  grateful  senti- 
ments, which  induced  fidelity  to  princes  who  conferred  favours,  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  a  sensibility  to  the  liberty  of  humanity  in  general.  lie  thought  Christian 
charity  chastised  the  sentiments  of  gratitude,  friendship,  family  affection  &c., 
as  well  as  what  are  more  commonl}'  called  the  passions.  Still  he  was  not  in 
the  least  deficient  himself  in  personal  affections;  and  there  is  a  series  of  beau- 
tiful articles  upon  the  immortality  of  the  human  affections,  which  he  published 


CHARLES    THEODORE    CHRISTIAN    FOLLEN.  547 

in  the  Christian  Examiner.  lie  sympathized  very  much  with  the  glowing  en- 
thusiasm of  youth  and  the  fervours  of  an  elevated  devotion;  and  was  ardent 
as  a  lover  of  liberty,  individual  and  national.  His  temperament  was  warm, 
but  his  temper  was  perfectly  sweet,  because  his  impulses  were  in  harmony 
with  his  principles,  and  he  was  above  all  petty  personal  passions  and  interests 
absolutely. 

I  have  said  he  would  sacrifice  individuals  to  humanity;  but  this  was  guarded 
by  a  clear  sense  of  justice.  All  the  sacrifices  he  believed  in  were  seZZ-sacri- 
fices.  On  the  American  Slavery  question,  he  was  a  warm  emancipator,  but 
an  uncompromising  compensationist.  Standing  in  the  light  which  lighteth 
ever)'  man  that  cometh  into  the  world,  with  a  clear  intelligence  of  its  being 
"  the  Word  that  was  in  the  beginning,"  and  receiving  it  with  the  humility 
that  exalteth,  he  was  proof  against  fanaticism,  whether  of  ^he  good  or  evil 
intentioned.  He  believed  with  Coleridge  that  "  Christianity  is  the  perfection 
of  Reason."  Earnestness  was  perhaps  his  most  distinctive  trait.  His  mind 
was  comprehensive  of  principle,  but  he  did  not  carry  his  brain  in  his  hand  so 
much  as  in  his  heart;  and  he  was  not  witty,  nor  naturally  executive.  He  had 
no  '<  touch  and  go  "  about  him.  His  method  of  treating  a  subject  was  to  begin 
with  the  fundamental  fact  or  principle,  and  build  it  up  with  honest  fidelity; 
working  long  about  the  foundations  and  neglecting  nothing;  so  that,  in  our 
<'  fast  "  countrj'^,  he  was  liable  to  be  left  in  the  rear  by  competitors  who  were 
altogether  inferior  to  him. 

I  tliink  his  mini  was  not  at  all  creative  —  it  certainly  was  not  imaginative; 
but  he  could  comprehend  any  depth  of  principle  presented  to  his  apprehension, 
and  feel  any  beauty  of  form.  His  vocation  was  to  act  humanity;  and,  as  a 
teacher  and  director  of  youth,  he  was  endowed  with  the  highest  qualifications 
by  nature  and  culture,  as  all  will  testify  who  had  the  privilege  of  his  instruc- 
tion and  guardianship.  He  was  also  courageous  as  he  was  earnest;  and  these 
qualities  were  in  him  related  to  each  other,  and  to  the  steadfastness  of  his 
religious  faith  and  his  pervasive  hunlanit3^ 

Dr.  Follen  had  been  a  German  patriot,  and  he  became  a  fervent  American 
patriot;  for  he  valued  political  liberty  as  a  necessary  condition  of  the  develop- 
ment of  a  christianized  humanit}'';  and  he  never  ceased  to  wonder,  during  his 
whole  residence  in  America,  at  the  want  of  religious  earnestness  in  American 
patriots.  T  remember  once,  when  he  was  in  Dr.  Channing's  pulpit,  and  was 
thanking  God  for  the  privileges  of  American  citizenship,  in  behalf  of  the  whole 
congregation,  he  paused  and  made  an  address  to  the  people,  to  call  their  atten- 
tion to  the  deep  character  of  the  blessing,  and  its  bearing  on  their  religious 
privileges,  in  order  that  they  might  join  with  him  more  fervently  than  he  feared 
they  were  doing;  and  afterwards  went  on  with  his  prayer.  Of  course  it 
startled  people  and  they  did  not  like  it. 

But  Dr.  Follen  seldom  offended.  I  never  knew  any  foreigner  who  seemed  to 
be  so  easily  and  widely  understood  and  appreciated  by  Americans.  In  fact 
he  was  less  of  a  German  than  a  Christian  cosmopolite. 

Yours  very  truly, 

ELIZABETH  P.  PEABODY. 


648  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 


HERSEY  BRADFORD  GOODWIN  * 

1829—1836. 

IIersey  Bradford  Goodwin  was  born  at  Plymouth,  Mass.,  August 
18,  1805.  His  father,  William  GooJwin,  was  a  liiglily  respected  citizen, 
and,  for  many  years,  Cashier  of  the  Plymouth  Bank,  His  mother  and 
step-mother  were  daughters  of  Capt.  Simeon  Sampson,  distinguislied  as  a 
naval  officer  during  the  War  of  the  Revolution.  He  received  the  rudi- 
ments of  his  education  in  his  native  town,  and  was  prepared  for  College  at 
the  Sandwich  Academ}',  under  the  instruction  of  Mr.  Bernard  Whitman, 
afterwards  minister  of  Waltham,  whonj  he  held  in  the  highest  estimation, 
both  as  a  teacher  and  a  friend.  He  entered  Harvard  College  in  1822, 
and,  after  most  creditably  passing  through  his  course,  graduated,  with  high 
honour,  in  1826. 

Immediately  after  his  graduation,  Mr.  Goodwin,  in  accordance  with  his 
youthful  predilections,  and  in  fulfilment  of  an  early  formed  purpose,  com- 
menced the  study  of  Divinity  at  the  Theological  School  at  Cambridge. 
Here  he  prosecuted  his  studies  with  great  ardour,  being  more  especially 
interested  in  whatever  related  to  the  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures.  In 
the  summer  of  1829  lie  received  the  approbation  of  the  Middlesex  Asso- 
ciation, and  immediately  began  to  preach.  The  First  Parish  in  Concord, 
Mass.,  wishing,  at  this  time,  to  procure  a  colleague  for  their  Pastor,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Ripley,  made  overtures  on  the  subject  to  Mr.  Goodwin  ;  but  he 
was  unwilling  to  assume  at  once  the  responsibilities  of  a  pastoral  charge. 
After  this,  he  preached,  for  some  time,  to  a  new  Unitarian  Society  in  Ro- 
chester, N.  Y.,  and  was  urgently  requested  to  settle  among  them  ;  but, 
after  much  reflection,  felt  constrained  to  decline  their  invitation.  He 
returned  to  New  England  in  November,  1829,  received  and  accepted  a  call 
from  the  parish  in  Concord,  and  was  ordained  and  installed  February  17, 
1830,  The  Sermon  on  the  occasion  was  preached  by  his  own  Pastor,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Kendall,  of  Plymouth.  He  was  received  by  th^  people  with  great 
cordiality  and  even  enthusiasm.  His  venerable  colleague  also  heartily 
welcomed  him  to  share  his  labours,  and,  as  long  as  he  lived,  their  inter- 
course was  characterized  by  parental  affection  and  solicitude  on  the  one 
hand,  and  a  lively  filial  deference  and  consideration  on  the  other. 

In  June,  1880,  Mr.  Goodwin  was  married  to  Lucretia  Ann  Watson,  of 
Plymouth,  a  lady,  whose  fine  intellectual,  moral  and  social  qualities  were 
every  way  fitted  to  render  him  happy.  The  union,  however,  was  destined 
to  be  brief,  as  she  died  suddenly,  on  the  11th  of  November,  1881.  He 
felt  the  shock  most  deeply,  and  yet  he  met  it  with  great  composure  of  spirit. 
In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  written  shortly  after,  he  says, — "  I  was  denied  the 
satisfaction  of  conversing  with  my  dear  Lucretia  before  she  died,  upon  the 
subject  of  our  separation,  for  the  first  very  alarming  symptom  we  had,  was  the 
change  which  rendered  her  entirely  insensible  to  all  outward  objects.  I 
comfort  myself  with  the  thought  that  she  is  only  separated  from  me  for  a 

•  Christ.  Exam.,  1837,— MS.  from  Rev.  Dr.  Hosmer. 


HERSEY    BRADFORD    GOODWIN.  549 

little  while,  and  I  think  I  can  rejoice  in  the  belief  that  I  have  that  she  is 
gone  to  the  Father." 

Mr.  Goodwin's  health  suffered  severely  in  consequence  of  his  affliction, 
so  that  serious  apprehensions  came  to  be  entertained  that  his  constitution 
would  finally  sink  under  it.  In  the  spring  of  1833  he  travelled  West  and 
Southwest,  for  the  benefit  of  his  health,  extending  his  journey  as  far  as  St. 
Louis.  During  his  absence,  he  wrote  several  interesting  letters,  which 
were  first  published  in  the  Old  Colony  Memorial,  and  some  of  tliem  after- 
wards copied  into  the  Christian  Register.  After  an  absence  of  five  months, 
he  returned  to  his  people,  in  September,  with  his  health  apparently  quite 
re-established,  and  resumed  his  pastoral  labours  with  his  accustomed  zeal 
and  energy.  In  June,  1834,  he  was  married  to  Amelia  Mackay,  of  Bos- 
ton, who  clieered  the  brief  remainder  of  his  life  by  her  affectionate  conjugal 
attentions,  and  survived  to  mourn  his  loss.  His  health  continued  good  till 
October,  1885,  when  he  went  to  Connecticut  to  attend  at  the  death-bed  of 
a  near  relative.  Here  he  was  deprived  of  his  accustomed  rest,  and  exposed 
to  great  fatigue  ;  the  consequence  of  whicli  was  that  he  returned  lioine, 
exhausted  and  asthmatic.  Froiu  this  time  he  found  it  necessary  to  avoid 
the  evening  air,  as  well  as  the  air  of  close  and  heated  rooms.  He  ceased 
to  attend  at  the  Lyceum,  except  when  he  lectured  himself.  He,  however, 
continued  to  visit  the  schools,  preached  regularly,  and  went  to  an  Ordina- 
tion at  Framiiigham,  on  the  coldest  day  known  fur  eighteen  years,  witlniut 
apparently  suffering  injury.  In  March,  1836,  he  delivered  two  lectures 
before  the  Lyceum,  the  preparation  of  wliich  manifestly  aggravated  his 
complaint.  At  tlie  town  meeting,  on  the  4l.h  of  April,  he  read  a  long 
Report,  accompanying  it  by  a  speech  of  some  length,  after  which  he  seemed 
much  exhausted,  and  gave  unmistakable  signs  of  serious  illness.  Frutn 
this  time  he  declined  to  serve  on  the  scliool  committee,  on  the  ground  that 
the  duties  of  his  parish  demanded  all  the  physical  strength  that  remained, 
to  him.  In  April  his  symptoms  suddenly  assumed  a  more  alarming  type, 
which  led  him  to  seek  medical  advice  from  Dr.  Jackson,  of  Boston.  His 
complaint  was  pronounced  an  affection  of  the  heart,  which  might  continue 
for  years,  or  terminate  suddenly  in  death  at  any  time.  After  a  few  weeks' 
stay  in  Boston,  he  returned  to  Concord,  and,  by  permission  of  his  physi- 
cian, preached  once.  As  he  still  rather  grew  worse  than  better,  he  went 
to  Plymouth  to  seek  quiet  and  relaxation  amidst  the  friends  of  his  early 
years.  For  some  time  after  his  arrival  there,  his  health,  though  variable, 
seemed  prevailingly  better.  On  Thursday,  July  7th,  after  having  spent 
the  day  in  riding,  walking  and  conversing,  he  retired  apparently  as  well  as 
usual  ;  but,  during  the  night,  was  suddenly  seized  with  paralysis,  and 
never  afterwards  spoke  or  opened  his  eyes.  He  remained  insensible 
through  the  day.  and  died  early  on  the  morning  of  Saturday,  the  9th. 

Jlr.  Goodwin  had  three  children, —  one  by  the  first  marriage,  and  two 
by  the  second.  William  Watson,  a  son  of  the  first  wife,  was  graduated 
at  Harvard  College  in  1851,  and,  in  1860,  was  appointed  to  the  Eliot  Pro- 
fessorship of  Greek  Literature  in  the  same  institution. 


650  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  HOSMER,  D.  D. 

Buffalo.  November  4,  1861. 
My  dear  Sir:  You  are  aware,  I  suppo.se,  that  the  lamented  friend  of  whom 
you  have  asked  me  to  give  you  some  account,  spent  the  years  of  his  childliood 
and  youth  amidst  the  venerable  objects  and  associations  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers' 
resting  place.  I  have  testimony  that  his  early  years  were  full  of  grace  and 
beauty.  His  step-mother,  who  stood  f:ist  by  the  ancient  landmarks  of  the 
Assembly's  Catechism,  used  to  say  that  "  it  did  seem  to  her  that  Ilersey  was 
one  at  least  who  never  fell."  After  the  death  of  Mr.  Goodwin,  in  183G,  Dr, 
Kendall,  who  had  known  him  from  his  birth,  speaks  of  him,  in  a  Funeral 
Sermon,  in  these  affectionate  terms:  —  "His  sober,  thoughtful  countenance, 
even  in  childhood,  we  well  remember.  His  eye  and  his  heart  alread}-  pointed 
upwards,  and  seemed  to  indicate  the  profession  that  would  be  his  choice,  and 
the  holy  vocation  he  was  purposed  to  pursue.  From  the  cradle  to  the  giave, 
■we  have  seen  his  course  marked^^l^  the  same  purity  of  principle,  the  same  in- 
tegrity of  purpose,  the  same  cevout  aspirations,  the  same  consistency  of 
Christian  character." 

My  first  knowledge  of  Mr.  Goodwin  was  in  1822,  when  we  met  as  classmates 
in  Harvard  College.  I  well  remember  my  first  visit  to  his  room,  and  the 
pleasant  impression  he  made  upon  me.  The  little  child  and  the  mature  man 
were  finely  blended  in  his  talk  and  bearing;  so  simple,  yet  so  intelligent; — 
amiable  and  easj'-,  yet  never  losing  a  dignified  propiiety.  He  soon  became, 
without  seeming  to  think  of  it,  a  great  favourite  in  the  class.  I  think  no  one 
among  us  was  so  universally  known,  and  none  more  deeply  loved.  I  do  not 
remember  that  his  friendships  had  any  clouds;  his  goodness  of  heart  was  con- 
stant and  unbounded,  and  kept  perpetual  sunshine  wherever  he  was. 

Mr.  Goodwin  was  a  superior  scholar —  though  not  keenly  ambitious  enough 
to  be  among  the  very  first  in  the  class,  he  was  verj-  good  in  all  departments — 
his  mind  was  well  balanced,  and  became  mature  at  an  early  age.  During  our 
Senior  year,  he  obtained  a  Boylston  prize  for  a  dissertation  on  Geology.  But 
the  crowning  beauty  of  his  college  life  was  the  singular  union  of  purity,  free- 
dom and  love,  by  which  it  was  characterized.  "  He  did  not  need  the  smart 
of  folly  to  make  him  wise,  nor  the  sting  of  guilt  to  make  him  virtuous."  And 
the  same  qualities  which  made  us  so  fond  of  him  in  College,  touched  the  hearts 
of  all  who  were  brought  into  intimate  relations  with  him  in  subsequent  life. 

Mr.  Goodwin  was  not  a  commanding  pulpit  orator.  His  presence  was  gentle 
and  unimposing;  but  his  benignant  face,  sweet  musical  voice,  and  a  certain 
loving  earnestness  drew  his  hearers  to  him;  and  his  fine  serious  thought  and 
glowing  emotion,  expressed  in  a  style  always  chaste  and  appropriate,  and  some- 
times beautifully  eloquent,  made  him  a  favourite  aud  effective  preacher.  In 
his  preaching  he  was  never  polemic;  and  seldom,  if  ever,  took  any  wide  range 
of  speculative  inquiry;  he  was  content  to  be  closely  practical;  with  his  eye 
upon  the  pressing  wants  of  his  people,  he  wrote  his  sermons  for  them  out  of 
his  own  heart,  touched  to  earnestness  by  the  study  of  Christ. 

As  a  Pastor,  Mr.  Goodwin  possessed  remarkable  qualities.  There  was  a 
beauty  in  liis  life  and  bearing  that  opened  a  way  for  him  to  all  hearts.  He  had 
a  nice  tact — he  could  touch  the  wounded  spirit  and  tenderly  soothe  its  distress. 
He  could  let  in  light  upon  a  darkened  soul  without  a  bit  of  cant.  The  young 
were  not  afraid  of  him,  because  they  felt  the  genial  warmth  of  his  love. 
Then  he  had  a  fine  practical  turn,  and  laboured  wisely  for  the  schools,  and 
every  quickening  institution  of  the  town. 

None  of  the  writings  of  Mr.  Goodwin  are  to  be  found  in  print,  except  ex- 
tracts from  two  Sermons,  and  from  a  School  Report,  published  with  his  Mem- 
oir in  the  Christian  Examiner,  in  1837.  These  show  the  fine  qualities  of  his 
thought  and  style. 


HERSEY    BRADFORD    GOODWIN.  551 

Mr.  Goodwin  never  had  robust  health;  a  slight  inclination  of  form  probably 
impeded  the  action  of  the  heart  and  lungs,  and  labour  and  sorrow  conspired 
to  break  the  vital  force.  Life  was  verj^  rich  to  him  in  joys  and  hopes;  but  he 
bowed  meekly  to  the  summons  to  depart.  His  form  lies  buried  among  his 
parishioners,  and  his  name  is  a  sacred  household  word  in  all  their  homes. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  very  truly  yours, 

G.  W.  HOSMER. 

FROxM  THE  REV.  CAZNEAU  PALFREY,  D.  D. 

Belfast,  Me.,  November  11,  1861. 

My  dear  Sir:  It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  comply  with  your  request  that 
I  would  aiford  you  some  assistance  in  preparing  a  sketcii  of  the  life  and  char- 
acter of  Mr.  Goodwin.  I  am  glad  to  have  my  recollections  of  so  dear  and  valued 
a  fiiend  revived;  and  the  di.stinctness  with  which  lean  recall  him  after-the  lapse 
of  more  than  twenty-five  years,  is  a  proof  how  marked  and  striking  were  the 
traits  of  liis  character. 

Mr.  Goodwin  and  I  passed  seven  successive  years  together  in  Cambridge, 
emb.'-acing  tlie  periods  of  our  collegiate  course  and  of  our  preparation  for  the 
ministry  in  the  Theological  School.  I  first  knew  him  wiien  we  met  as  mem- 
bers of  the  same  class,  and  we  were  strongly  drawn  towards  each  other  —  he 
immediatel}''  became  my  most  intimate  friend,  and  so  continued  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

In  person  Mr.  Goodwin  was  rather  below  the  average  height,  round-shoul- 
dered, stooping  and  narrow-chested.  His  whole  appearance  indicated  a  de- 
ficiency of  muscular  force.  Yet  he  possessed  great  nervous  energy  and  sensi- 
bility. Fine  silken  liair  testified  to  the  delicacy  of  his  organization.  His  eye 
was  clear,  dark  and  penetrating.  His  voice  was  strong  and  sonorous,  far  be- 
yond what  the  general  appearance  promised.  His  step  was  quick,  all  his  motions 
alert,  his  manner  vivacious.  Except  when  depressed  by  illness,  he  was  uni- 
formly cheerful  and  hopeful,  much  disposed  to  drollery  and  jocularit)^  and  a 
keen  appreciator  of  similar  traits  in  others.  The  sweetness  of  his  temper  and 
the  kindliness  of  his  disposition  were  imperturbable;  but  he  had  a  very  quick 
and  strong  indignation  against  moral  wrong.  His  sympathy  was  always  ready 
for  every  one.  He  entered  instantly  and  heartily  into  the  case  of  either  friend 
or  stranger  who  required  his  services;  and  he  was  disinterested  and  indefa- 
tigable in  rendering  the  needed  help.  A  nature  so  singularly  communicative 
as  his  could  not  fail  to  make  him  a  great  favourite  in  college  societ}''.  If  I 
were  to  say  that  he  was  the  most  popular  member  of  our  class,  I  should  hardly 
do  justice  to  the  feeling  entertained  for  him.  That  feeling  was  something  more 
than  what  was  meant  by  college  popularity.  No  one  was  more  truly  loved, 
and  no  one  was  consulted  and  confided  in  by  so  many  as  he.  The  same  trait 
afterward  made  him  eminent  in  the  pastoral  office. 

Mr.  Goodwin  had  an  acute  and  versatile  intellect.  He  could  quickly  master 
any  subject  in  which  he  became  interested,  and  he  had  an  appetite  for  know- 
ledge in  various  departments.  lie  was  faithful  in  his  attention  to  college 
studies,  and  held  a  distinguished  rank  in  the  class.  Yet  he  could  not  be  called 
a  sj'stematic  student  His  mind  was  naturally  discursive.  What  he  acquired 
he  acquired  by  a  succession  of  ardent  and  disconnected  efforts  rather  than  by 
steadily  continued  application  in  accordance  with  a  fixed  plan.  In  the  Theo- 
logical School,  the  study  that  most  interested  him  was  the  interpretation  of 
the  New  Testament,  which  he  considered  the  foundation  of  theological  science. 
He  was  less  interested  in  Dogmatic  Theology.  He  was  jealous  of  the  free- 
dom and  independence  of  his  own  mind,  and  was  unwilling  to  have  his  opini- 
ons on  great  controverted  subjects  in  any  measure  forestalled.    lie  used  to  say 


552  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

that  doctrines  sliould  be  studied  by  a  beginner  in  Theology,  in  a  simply  his- 
torical point  of  view. 

Mr.  Goodwin's  choice  was  fixed,  at  the  time  he  entered  College,  upon  the  pro- 
fession he  afterwards  adopted,  and  there  was  nothing  in  his  character  and  de- 
portment in  College  irconsistent  with  that  choice.  He  was,  througliout  his 
colk-ge  course,  a  blameless  and  exemplary  young  man.  His  natural  tempera- 
ment led  him  much  into  society  of  various  character,  and  he  seemed  to  be  ex- 
posed to  temptation  from  that  cause,  but  he  passed  through  it  unharmed.  No 
imputation  of  the  slightest  immorality  was  ever  afterward  attached  to  him. 

As  a  Preacher,  Mr.  Goodwin  was  eminently  plain  and  practical.  It  was  not 
his  habit  to  discuss  deep  subjects  in  the  pulpit,  or  to  rise  into  the  highest  regions 
of  tliouglit  and  imagination.  lie  aimed  at  'oringing  home  tlie  truths  he  taught 
to  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  his  hearers,  by  familiar  illustrations  drawn 
from  the  common  affairs  of  life.  His  manner  was  earnest  and  persuasive. 
Though  he  never  preached  extempore,  the  familiar  tones  of  his  voice,  and  the 
ease  and  freedom  of  his  manner,  gave  to  his  discourses  the  efiect  of  extempo- 
raneous speaking.  He  was  a  popular  preacher  in  his  own  and  the  neiglibour- 
ing  pulpits,  and  was  listened  to  with  delight  by  some  of  our  most  intellectual 
congregations.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

C.  PALFREY. 


!  JASON  WHITMAN.^ 

1830  —  1848. 

Jason  Whitman,  tlie  youngest  son  of  John  and  Abigail  Whitman,  was 
born  in  Bridgewater,  Mass.,  on  the  30th  of  April,  1799,  being  the  youngest 
child  of  his  parents.  His  father  lived  to  the  extraordinary  age  of  a  hun- 
dred and  seven  years.  During  his  childhood,  he  was  subject  to  diseases 
whicli  permanently  affected  both  his  throat  and  lungs.  But  he  had  a  great 
fondness  for  books,  and,  being  confined  more  closely  to  the  house  than  other 
children,  he  made  proportioiuilly  more  rapid  progress  in  his  studies."  Ills 
earlier  schooling  was  at  the  Bridgewater  Academy,  of  which  Mr.  David 
Reed  was  then  Principal;  but  he  afterwards  studied  under  his  brother,  the 
Rev.  Nathaniel  Whitman,  then  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Billeriea, 
Mass.  At  the  age  of  nijieteen  he  became  a  student  at  the  Exeter  Phillips 
Academy,  and  remained  there  three  years,  when  he  joined  the  Freshman 
class  in  Harvard  College.  He  maintained  an  excellent  standing  as  a  scholar 
during  his  whole  college  course,  and  graduated  with  high  honour  in  1825, 

Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he  took  charge  of  the  Academy  in 
Billeriea,  which  he  taught  for  three  years.  He  had  been  engaged  as  a 
teacher  during  several  of  his  college  vacations;  and  this. was  the  employ- 
ment to  which  his  friends,  in  consideration  of  the  diseased  state  of  his 
throat,  necessarily  affecting  his  vocal  organs,  thought  he  had  better  devote 
himself;  but  his  own  purpose  was  fixed  to  enter  the  ministry.  Accord- 
ingly, in  1828,  he  commenced  the  study  of  Divinity  at  Cambridge,  and  in 
1830  was  licensed  to  preach  by  an  Association  of  ministers  at  Dover,  Mass. 

•  Christ.  Exam.,  1848. 


JASON    WHITMAN.  553 

He  preached  for  a  short  time  in  Canton,  Mass.,  and  was  invited  to  settle 
there,  but  declined  the  call.  He  subsequently  accepted  a  call  from  a  church 
in  Saco,  Me.,  where  he  was  ordained  and  installed  on  the  30th  of  June,  1830. 
Here  he  remained,  enjoying,  in  a  high  degree,  the  affection  and  confidence 
of  his  people,  until  April,  1834,  when  he  resigned  his  charge  to  accept  the 
appointment  of  General  Secretary  of  the  American  Unitarian  Association. 
Having  occupied  this  post,  with  great  acceptance,  for  one  year,  he  con. 
sented,  at  the  urgent  request  of  the  llev.  Dr.  Nichols,  of  Portland,  to 
accept  an  invitation  to  take  charge  of  a  Second  Unitarian  Church  in  that 
place.  Accordingly,  he  was  installed  as  Pastor  of  that  church  in  1835. 
His  engagement  was  at  first  for  only  five  years  ;  but,  at  the  end  of  that  time, 
it  was  renewed  for  five  years  more  ;  and,  throughout  this  whole  period,  he 
was  most  laboriously  occupied  in  his  work.  During  one  winter  he  went, 
for  the  benefit  of  his  health,  to  Savannah,  Ga.,  and  there  exerted  an  import- 
ant influence  in  sustaining  and  advancing  the  interests  of  Unitarianism. 

On  the  30th  of  July,  1845,  Mr.  Whitman  was  installed  as  Pastor  of  the 
First  Congregational  Society  in  Lexington,  Mass.,  where  he  spent  the 
remainder  of  his  days.  Being  called,  in  December,  1847,  to  Saco  to  attend 
the  Funeral  of  his  brother-in-law,  the  lion.  John  Fairfield,  of  the  United 
States  Senate,  and  finding  that  the  burial  must  neccessarily  be  deferred  for 
several  days,  he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  visit  his  numerous 
friends  in  Portland.  It  was  from  exposure  to  the  intense  cold,  on  the 
journey  from  Saco  to  Portland,  that  he  contracted  the  disease,  which,  in  a 
few  days,  terminated  his  life.  He  died  on  the  25th  of  January,  1848,  in  the 
bosom  of  a  congregation  in  which  he  had  passed  more  than  half  of  the  entire 
period  of  his  ministry.  His  Funeral  Sermon  was  preached  at  Lexington, 
on  the  27th  of  February,  by  the  llev.  Theodore  H.  Dorr,  and  was  published. 

In  March,  1832,  he  was  married  to  Mary  Fairfield,  by  whom  he  had  five 
cliildren, — two  sons  and  three  daughters.  Mrs.  Whitman  still  (1863)  sur- 
vives. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Whitman's  publications:  Religious  Ex- 
citements ;  A  Sermon  preached  at  the  Ordinatioti  of  the  Eev.  Edward  H. 
Edes,  in  Eastport,  1831.  An  Address  before  the  York  County  Temper- 
ance Society,  at  Alfred,  1832.  Tlie  Change  Experienced  in  becoming  truly 
lleligious,  1837.  Memoir  of  Bernard  Whitman,  1837.  Hard  Times  :  A 
Discourse  delivered  in  the  Second  Unitarian  Church,  also  in  the  First 
Parish  Church,  PorthiTid,  1837.  Missionary  Efforts:  A  Sermon  delivered 
at  Hallowell,  before  the  Maine  Convention  of  Unitarian  Churches,  1838. 
The  Young  Man's  Assistant  in  Efforts  at  Self-cultivation,  1838.  Letter 
to  a  Friend  on  the  Duty  of  Commencing  at  once  a  lleligious  Life,  1840. 
Week-Day  Religion,  1840.  Memoir  of  Deacon  John  Whitman,  1843. 
Young  Lady's  Aid  to  Usefulness  (3d  edition),  1845.  Unitarian  Tracts, 
No.  91;  Hints- on  Religious  Feelings,  1835.  No.  210;  We  Live  for 
Heaven,  1845.  Lecture  before  the  American  Institute  of  Instructioti  at 
Plymouth,  1846.  Sermon  at  the  Induction  of  the  Rev.  C.  H.  A.  Hall,  at 
Needham,  1847.  Discourses  on  the  Lord's  Prayer,  1847.  Inquiry  into 
the  Scriptural  Authority  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Two  Natures  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  A  Brief  Statement  of  the  Unitarian  Belief 
(by  Jason  Whitman  and  William  E.  Greely),  1847. 


654  ,  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

FROM  THE  REV.  JOSEPH  ALLEN,  D.  D. 

NoRTHBOiiouGH,  September  1,  1863. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  Jason  Whitman  commenced 
duiing  the  period  of  his  lesidencc  in  Maine,  but  became  much  more  intimate 
after  his  settlement  in  Lexington.  I  liuevv  him  quite  well  in  his  later  years, 
met  liim  on  various  occasions  and  under  different  circumstances,  and  had 
every  needful  opportunity  of  forming  a  correct  estimate  of  his  geneial  cluirac- 
teristics.  The  impression  that  he  made  upon  me  is  still  very  distinct,  and  I 
cheerfully  comply  with  your  request  in  communicating  it  to  you. 

Mr.  Whitman's  personal  appearance  could  not  be  said  to  be  prepossessing. 
Though  there  was  a  certain  manly  vigour  indicated  by  the  expression  of  his 
countenance,  yet  there  seemed  to  be  littlegrace  or  harmony  in  the  combination 
of  his  features.  lie  was  of  about  the  middle  height,  had  a  rapid  but  stoop- 
ing gait,  and  in  all  his  movements  indicated  what  he  actually  possessed, — a 
very  nervous  temperament.  He  never  seemed  to  have  good  health;  and,  if 
my  memory  serves  me,  he  was  afflicted  with  the  asthma. 

Mr.  Whitman  could  not  be  said  to  be  a  brilliant  man,  but  he  possessed  ster- 
ling good  sense,  sound  judgment,  and  all  those  qualities  most  essential  to 
practical  usefulness.  The  general  habit  of  liis  mind  was  uncommonl}^  medi- 
tative and  serious;  and  he  impressed  you  at  once  with  the  idea  that  his  heart 
was  deeply  in  his  work.  As  long  as  his  ability  to  labour  lasted,  he  was  most 
assiduously  engaged  in  the  duties  of  his  profession;  and  after  he  was  taken 
off  from  his  labours  by  the  disease  which  iinally  terminated  his  life,  his  heart 
was  still  in  his  work  as  deeply  as  ever.  Though  he  was  a  very  well  educated 
man,  he  was  distinguished  rather  for  solid  than  graceful  acquirements;  and 
hence  his  discourses  were  more  foicible  and  logical  than  rhetorical  and  attrac- 
tive. I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  ever  heard  him  preach,  though  I  have  often 
heard  him  speak  in  public,  and  was  always  deeply  impressed  with  the  perti- 
nence of  his  thoughts,  and  the  manifest  sincerity  and  earnestness  of  his  man- 
ner. He  was  susceptible  of  strong  emotion,  and  he  often  exhibited  it  in  i)ublic 
as  well  as  in  private.  The  general  tone  of  his  ministrations  was  deej)ly  seri- 
ous and  fervent,  and  I  should  imagine,  withal,  the  opposite  of  controversial. 
Though  he  was  decidedly  a  Unitarian,  I  do  not  know  what  was  the  particular 
type  of  his  belief;  but  I  am  sure  he  was  what  we  should  call  a  very  evangeli- 
cal Preacher.  He  was  always  pleasant  in  his  social  intercourse,  but  he  was 
also  dignified,  and  I  never  knew  him  indulge  in  anything  that  approached  to 
levity.  He  was  greatly  esteemed  and  beloved  by  his  people,  and  honoured 
by  his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  and  his  memory  is  still  gratefully  cherished 
wherever  he  was  known.  Very  sincerely  yours, 

J.  ALLEN. 


GEORGE  FREDERICK  SIMMONS.^ 

1838  —  1855. 

George  Frederick  Simmons  was  born  in  Boston  in  the  year  1814. 
He  was  a  son  of  William  Simmons,  a  Judge  of  tiie  Police  Court  in  his 
native  city.  lie  was  fitted  for  College  at  the  Latin  School  in  Boston, 
entered  Harvard  University  iu  1828,  and  graduated  in  1832.     He  was  a 

•Chris.  Inq.,  1855. — Christ.  Exam.,  1855. — Ms.  from  Rev.  Francis  Tiffany. 


GEORGE    FREDERICK    SIMMONS.  555 

goud  general  scholar,  but  chiefly  distinguished  in  the  English  department, 
and  as  a  writer  lie  was  regarded,  at  the  time  of  his  graduation,  as  having 
few  equals.  lie  was  not  remarkable  in  College  for  his  social  qualities, — 
one  evidence  of  wiiicii  was  that  he  hoarded  himself,  as  the  phrase  was,  in 
his  own  room,  instead  of  mingling,  at  his  meals,  with  his  fellow-students, 
or  living  in  a  private  family.  He  was  not,  however,  a  recluse,  but  a  close 
observer  of  what  was  passing  around  him  ;  and  when  any  thing  displeased 
him,  he  was  very  likely  to  make  it  known  in  a  manner  that  would  be 
remembered.  In  his  Senior  year,  his  inind  took  a  more  decidedly  serious 
turn,  and  the  character  of  his  reading  became  proportionally  changed. 
He  to(dc  special  delight  in  reading  the  works  of  Jeremy'  Taylor,  and  would 
sometimes  recite  fine  passages  from  them  to  his  friends,  whom  he  thought 
capable  of  a[)precialing  their  high  intellectual  and  moral  beauty.  When 
he  graduated,  he  delivered  the  Salutatory  Oration,  in  Latin,  which  was 
reckoned  the  fourth  part  in  the  Commencement  exercises. 

On  leaving  College,  he  accepted  an  offer  to  become  a  private  tutor  in  the 
family  of  Mr.  David  Sears,  and  went  to  liv5  at  his  country  house  in  Long- 
wood,  Me.  The  next  year  he  accompanied  the  family  to  Europe,  and,  by 
this  means,  enjoyed  rare  opportunities  of  seeing  and  hearing  much  to 
gralify  his  curiosity  and  improve  his  mind.  In  July,  1835,  he  returned  to 
this  country,  and  entered  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge,  where  he  com- 
pleted his  course  in  1838.  On  the  9th  of  October  of  that  year,  he  was 
ordained  as  an  Evangelist,  in  Dr.  Channing's  Church,  Boston,  his  friend 
and  college  classmate,  the  Rev.  \\.  W.  Bellows,  preaching  the  Ordination 
Sermon.  He  went  immediately  to  Mobile  and  commenced  his  ministry, 
but  remained  there  only  till  1840.  He  felt  conscience-bound  to  protest 
against  the  institution  of  Slavery  ;  though,  in  doing  it,  he  knew  that  he 
was  assailing  the  most  inveterate  prejudices  of  the  community  in  which  he 
lived.  The  result  was  that  he  was  obliged  to  fly  for  his  life,  and  barely 
escaped  the  murderous  fury  of  a  mob.  In  the  summer  of  1840  he  returned 
to  Jlassachusetts,  and  preached  in  various  pulpits.  In  April,  1841,  he 
began  to  preach  regularly  at  Waltham,  and  was  installed  as  minister  of  the 
Unitarian  Church  in  that  town  in  November  following — the  Installation 
Sermon  being  preached  by  the  Rev.  James  Freeman  Clarke.  Here  he  was 
most  zealously  devoted  to  his  work,  and  spent  no  small  part  of  his  time  in 
pastoral  visitation.  Meanwhile,  his  mind  was  deeply  exercised  on  some 
theological  questions,  upon  which  he  wished  to  bestow  more  attention  than 
would  consist  with  what  he  considered  due  from  him  to  his  pastoral  charge. 
Under  these  circumstances,  he  tendered  his  resignation,  and,  in  the  spring 
of  1843,  crossed  the  ocean  with  the  view  of  availing  himself  of  the  advan- 
tages  of  theological  investigation  in  connection  with  one  of  the  German 
Universities.  He  returned  in  October,  1845,  having  spent  most  of  the 
intervening  period  at  the  University  of  Berlin,  where  he  came  into  very 
intimate  relations  with  the  celebrated  Neander. 

After  his  return,  he  preached  in  various  pulpits  in  Boston  and  the  vicin- 
ity, and  in  New  York,  till  February,  1848,  when  he  became  Pastor  of  the 
Unitarian  Church  in  Springfield,  then  lately  vacated  by  the  decease  of  Dr. 
Peabody.  Here  he  was  greatly  admired  by  a  portion  of  his  congregation, 
while  others  regarded  him  with  less  favour,  rendering  his  situation  not  alto- 


656  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

getlier  desirable  to  lum ;  and  the  same  general  cause  which  had  led  to  liis 
Beparation  from  his  church  in  Mobile,  finally  operated  to  the  production 
of  a  similar  result  in  Springfield.  In  consequence  of  a  riotous  assault 
which  was  made  there  upon  George  Thompson,  the  English  lecturer  upon 
Abolition,  Mr.  Simmons  preached  two  sermons  which  gave  so  much  ofi"ence 
to  a  portion  of  his  parish,  that  it  was  instrumental  of  terminating  his  rela- 
tion to  them  as  a  Pastor.  By  the  terms  of  his  settlement,  however,  he 
was  entitled  to  six  months'  notice,  and  he  remained  in  Springfield  and 
preaclied  up  to  the  end  of  that  time.  The  dismissal  occurred  within  the 
week  commenced  by  the  Sunday  on  which  he  delivered  the  above  mentioned 
Sermons.  He  retired  to  Concord,  Mass.,  with  impaired  health,  and  with 
feelings  not  a  little  wounded  by  the  sad  circumstances  which  had  attended 
his  separation  from  his  people.  At  Concord  he  busied  himself  with  gar- 
dening, and  lived  as  far  as  he  could  in  the  open  air,  as  a  consequence  of 
which  his  physical  system  was  much  invigorated.  At  this  period  he 
preached  more  or  less  in  various  places,  particularly  at  Groton,  Woburn, 
Lexington  and  Plymouth.  In  November,  1853,  he  went  to  supply  the 
Unitarian  Church  in  Albany,  N.  Y.,  and  was  installed  as  its  Pastor  in 
January,  1854,  Here  his  congregation  was  small,  and  he  was  little  known 
beyond  its  limits  ;  but  the  few  wlio  had  the  privilege  of  his  acquaintance 
regarded  hitn  as  possessing  rare  intellectual  and  moral  qualities.  Early  in 
the  summer  of  1855  lie  was  seized  with  typhus  fever,  which  left  him,  after 
about  six  weeks,  in  extreme  weakness,  and  terminated  in  rapid  consump- 
tion. He  returned  with  li is  family  to  Concord,  in  tlie  midst  of  his  decline, 
but  it  was  only  to  die.  Surrounded  with  friends  who  loved  and  honoured 
Lim,  he  sunk  calmly  to  his  rest  on  the  5th  of  September,  1855,  aged  about 
forty -one  years. 

Mr.  Siuinions  was  married  in  October,  1845,  to  Mary,  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Ripley,  for  many  years  minister  of  the  Unitarian  Church  at 
Waltham.  She  became  the  mother  of  four  children,  and  still  (1862)  sur- 
vives. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  Mr.  Simmons'  publications  :  Who  was  Jesus 
Christ — Tract  145  of  the  First  Series  of  the  American  Unitarian  Associ- 
ation, 1839.  Two  Sermons  on  the  Kind  Treatment  and  on  tlie  Emancipa- 
tion of  Slaves,  preached  at  Mobile,  with  a  Prefatory  Statement,  1840.  A 
Letter  to  the  So-called  ''Boston  Churches,"  which  are  in  truth  only  Parts 
of  One  Church.  By  a  jMember  of  the  same,  1846.  The  Trinity  ;  Its 
Scripture  Formalism,  and  the  Early  Construction  of  Church  Doctrines 
respecting  it  :  A  Lecture  delivered  in  Springfield,  1849.  Public  Spirit 
and  Mobs  :  Two  Sermons  delivered  at  Springfield  on  the  Sunday  after  the 
Thompson  Riot,  1851.  A  Sermon  entitled  "  Faith  in  Christ  the  Condition 
of  Salvation,"  1854. 

Mr.  Simmons  was  my  neighbour  during  the  period  of  his  sojourn  in 
Albany,  and  my  intercourse  with  him,  thougli  not  very  frequent,  was  always 
agreeable.  lie  impressed  me  as  a  man  of  an  acutely  philosophical  mind, 
of  a  strong  sense  of  right,  of  a  thoughtful  and  reverent  spirit,  and  of  the 
kindliest  feelings  towards  those  with  whom  he  differed.  He  seemed  to  me 
to  court  retirement,  while  yet,  in  my  occasional  intercourse  with  him,  I 
always  found  him  sufliciently  communicative,  and  sometimes,  when  awak- 


GEORGE  FREDERICK  SIMMONS.  557 

ened  by  an  inspiring  theme,  deeply  interesting.  I  had  occasion  several 
times  to  put  his  kindness  to  the  test  by  asking  favours  of  him  ;  and  no  one 
could  have  conferred  them  more  promptly  or  clTeerfully.  He  was  greatly 
esteemed  by  the  congregation  to  which  he  ministered,  and  there  are  those 
among  them  who  pronounce  his  name  with  marked  reverence  to  this  day. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D., 

OF    NEW    YORK. 

New  York,  November  12,  1862. 

My  dear  Sir:  I  am  most  haj)py  to  be  alloAved  to  say  a  word  of  affectionate 
remembrance  of  my  cherished  fiiend  and  classmate,  the  late  Rev.  George  F. 
Simmons.     I  knew  him  well,  loved  him  much,  and  respected  him  even  more. 

He  was  a  brilliant  but  crude  youth  in  College,  a  green  orange  wiiose  tart 
juices  gave  little  promise  of  what  its  ripe  sweetness  would  be.  He  was  some- 
what unsocial,  quite  censorious,  and  .sometimes,  not  content  with  the  point  of 
the  tongue,  to  express  his  satire,  he  borrowed  the  help  of  the  pencil,  and  the 
caricatures  of  fellow  students  and  Piofessors  were  funny  and  life-like  enough 
to  have  made  his  fortune  as  a  contributor  to  Punch.  He  was  inventive,  too, 
with  his  pencil,  and  sketched,  at  easy  will,  the  oddest  and  most  original  imps, 
and  elves,  and  hobgoblins,  that  Spenser,  Holbein  or  Goethe  ever  dieamed  of. 

He  was  always  a  strict  moralist,  a  kind  of  good  boy,  after  the  excellent 
mother's  heart,  living  very  much  by  himself.  He  liked  to  chat  with  his  class- 
mates, but  did  not  take  much  to  their  athletic  sports  and  dare-devil  pranks. 
He  was  fond  of  walking,  and  I  think  was  a  good  hand  at  base  ball,  and  not 
backward  among  our  swimmeis. 

He  was  a  good  scholar, —  a  fair  linguist,  a  good  mathematician  and  meta- 
physician, and  an  admirable  belles  lettres  scholar  and  elocutionist;  the  best 
speaker  by  far,  I  think,  in  the  class.  He  was  always  apparently  correct  and 
pure,  but  towards  the  close  of  our  college  life  he  became  positively  devout,  and 
a  communicant  of  the  church.  He  talked  constantl}'  of  the  sermons  preached 
in  the  College  Chapel,  es{)ccially  those  of  Drs.  Palfrey  and  Ware,  and  read 
and  enjoyed  the  best  books,  delighting  especially  in  Jeremy  Taylor,  whose 
Holy  Living  and  Dying  he  gave  to  me  as  a  parting  present,  and  which  I  still 
prize  sacredly,  after  his  holy  life  and  death. 

Simmons  was  the  fourtli  scholar  in  our  class,  and  it  was  supposed,  from  his 
vivid  style  and  brilliant  elocution,  that  he  would  be  the  most  successful  man 
of  all  the  sixty-eight  who  left  Harvard  in  1832.  He  did  well,  but  never  came 
up  to  the  expected  mark,  and  died  without  finding  an  adequate  sphere,  and 
bringing  out  all  his  gifts.  He  could  of  old  declaim  Shakspeare  and  Milton 
with  the  passion  of  Kean,  and  the  majesty  of  Macready,  as  it  seemed  to  us 
in  College;  yet  he  was,  in  after  years,  rather  a  subdued  and  tender  than  a 
kindling  and  commanding  pulpit  orator.  He  read  the  Scriptures  and  Hymns 
exquisitely,  yet  even  here  purity  and  sweetness  of  tone  were  more  obvious 
than  force  or  fire.  It  may  be  that,  in  subduing  his  somewhat  irascible  pas- 
sions, he  slew  them,  and,  instead  of  taming,  destroyed  the  fiery  steeds  that 
the  superior  intellect  and  will  need  to  carrj'^  them  upon  their  long  and  weary 
and  endangered  way.  He  had  gun  powder  enough  in  his  nature  to  have  sent 
to  its  mark  any  bullets  that  his  rich  arsenal  of  learning  and  argument  con- 
tained; but,  fearful  of  some  unhappy  explosion,  he  flooded  his  magazine  with 
water  or  milk,  and  trusted  to  the  sling  and  cross-bow  to  speed  the  shaft  home 
to  its  mark. 

In  addition  to  his  severe  dealing  with  his  rather  quick  and  irascible  tem- 
per, and  over  cooling  of  his  native  fire,  Simmons  had,  in  his  somewhat  un- 
social nature,  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  proper  influence  with  men.     As 


558  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

before  hinted  he  was  a  lonely  soul,  and  did  not  need  companions  as  most  of  us 
do.  When  he  sought  them,  it  was  not  on  the  common  level  of  genial  fellow- 
ship, but  on  the  high  plain  of  spiritual  communion;  not  on  the  play-ground 
and  at  the  table,  but  in  the  librar}'  and  the  chapel.  Even  his  piety  was  some- 
what lonel}',  and  it  shot  up  aloft  like  the  palm,  instead  of  spreading  like  the 
apple.  His  build  of  body  was  after  the  same  manner,  and  he  was  tall  and 
spare  .with  little  fulness  of  muscle  or  stomach.  It  seems  to  me  that  much  of 
a  man's  practical  power, —  certainly  his  humour  and  spirits,  are  seated  in  his 
stomach  and  sympathetic  nerves,  and  the  genial  and  jolly  preachers,  who 
carry  the  popular  heart  with  them,  like  the  Luthers  and  Latimers,  not  to  speak 
of  the  Bethunes  and  Spurgeons,  have  a  bodj'  rotund  and  full  of  juices.  Sim- 
mons was  one  of  the  spare  kind,  and  did  not  spread  enough  to  connect  him 
vitally  with  the  many.  He  could  not  pipe  with  old  Pan  on  the  solid  ground, 
among  the  Satyrs  and  Milk-maids,  but  could  touch  the  harp  with  St.  Cecilia, 
among  the  Cherubs  who  had  not  flesh  and  blood  enough  to  enable  them  to  sit 
down.  In  some  of  his  best  moments,  he  seemed  not  here  but  absent,  and  spoke 
and  looked  not  as  for  us  mortals,  but  to  somebody  a  thousand  miles  off  or  in 
Heaven.  Yet  he  was  not  insensible  to  the  sting  of  reproach,  and  much  prized 
the  praise  of  the  prai.seworthy. 

His  sickness  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  his  languid  pulse  during 
his  latter  3'ears.  Some  inward  spring  may  have  been  broken,  that  was  needed 
to  give  elasticity  and  power  to  his  word  and  gesture.  To  imply  that  more  was 
expected  of  him  than  he  actually  accomplished,  is  not  belittling  his  work,  but 
magnifying  his  gifts  and  promise.  I  doubt  not  that  God  has  work  for  him  to 
do  still,  and  such  natures  as  his  are  powerful  proofs  of  the  life  immortal. 

I  have  written  with  entire  sincerity',  and  any  other  tone  would  be  unworthy 
of  Simmons,  and  of  his  friend  and  classmate, 

SAMUEL  OSGOOD. 

FROM  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D., 

OF    SPPaNGFIELD,  MASS. 

Springfield,  October  11,  1862. 

My  dear  Brother:  I  cheerfully  comply  with  your  request  for  my  recollec- 
tions of  the  Rev.  ]Mr.  Simmons,  who  was,  for  several  years,  minister  of  tlie 
Unitarian  Church  in  this  place.  In  giving  you  mj"^  impressions  concerning  him, 
I  do  not  feel  at  all  embarrassed  by  the  fact  that  our  theological  views  were  in 
some  respects  widely  different;  for  I  always  hold  myself  ready  to  render  due 
honour  to  all  genuine  worth  wherever  it  may  be  found.  I  knew  Mr,  Simmons 
well  from  the  time  of  his  first  coming  to  Springfield  to  live;  and  I  was  on  such 
terms  with  him  as  justify  me  in  speaking  with  some  degree  of  confidence  in 
respect  to  his  character.  My  intimacy  with  him  continued  as  long  as  he  re- 
mained here;  and  after  he  removed  to  Albany,  I  was  there  on  a  visit,  and  he 
came  to  see  me  in  a  spirit  of  cordial  good-will  and  affection,  which  evidently 
ignored  the  fiict  that  our  religious  opinions  were  not  cast  in  the  same  mould. 

Mr.  Simmons  was  considerably  above  the  medium  stature,  with  a  face  indi- 
cating great  though tfulness  and  intense  love  of  study,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
great  calmness  and  kindliness  of  spirit.  I  do  not  think  he  was  fond  of  ming- 
ling in  general  .society,  or  that  he  could  be  considered  as  eminently  social  in  his 
habits;  and  yet,  when  you  knew  him,  you  would  find  that  he  was  a  highly 
instructive  and  agreeable  companion,  and  that,  beneath  the  veil  of  a  naturally 
retiiing  manner,  there  was  a  heart  full  of  Avarm  and  generous  sensibility. 
His  intellect  was  undoubtedly  of  a  very  superior  order.  He  was  more  in- 
clined to  the  philosophical  than  to  the  imaginative,  and  was  never  disposed  to 
rect  upon  the  surface  of  any  subject  that  was  presented  to  him.     In  his  esti- 


SYLVESTER   JUDD.  559 

mate  of  character  he  was  sagacious  and  discriminating,  and  yet  eminently 
charitable, —  never  attributing  an  evil  motive  where  a  good  one  could  possibly 
be  supposed.  He  was  a  man  of  the  strictest  integrity  —  nothing  could  induce 
him  to  compromise  in  the  least  his  own  well  considered  and  honest  convic- 
tions. He  was  always  ready  to  help  forward  every  cause  which  he  believed 
bore  the  impress  of  the  Divine  approbation,  even  though  it  might  subject  him 
to  great  personal  inconvenience.  He  was  very  outspoken  and  decided  on  the 
subject  of  American  Slavery,  and  the  opposition  with  which  his  course  on  this 
subject  was  met,  never  had  the  effect  either  to  cool  his  zeal  or  to  paralyze  his 
efforts.  Even  those  who  thought  he  held  mistaken  views  in  regard  to  this  great 
national  evil,  could  not  observe  the  pure  and  lofty  movements  of  his  spirit, 
without  giving  him  the  credit  of  being  a  true  philanthropist. 

In  respect  to  Mr.  Simmons'  theological  views,  I  cannot  pretend  to  speak 
with  any  thing  like  definiteness,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  on  some  of 
the  doctrines  his  own  mind  had  not  reached  a  very  settled  conclusion.  I  re- 
member his  once  telling  me  that,  while  he  was  in  Germany, —  I  think  under 
the  teaching  of  Neander, —  he  considered  it  very  doubtful  whether  he  should 
return  to  this  country  a  Unitarian;  but  that  he  did  always  continue  to  hold 
some  form  of  Unitarianism  there  can  be  no  doubt.  I  am  not  sure  that  even 
his  published  writings  on  the  subject  make  it  quite  clear,  at  least  to  ordinary 
minds,  just  what  ground  he  occupied.  I  know,  however,  that  those  of  his 
hearers  who  sympathized  most  with  what  I  consider  evangelical  truth,  had  the 
highest  estimate  of  his  preaching;  and  my  impression  is  that  he  approached 
as  nearl}'  to  my  own  views  of  the  character  and  work  of  Christ  as  perhaps 
any  minister  of  his  denomination  with  whom  I  have  been  acquainted. 

As  a  Preacher,  Mr.  Simmons  was  probably  most  acceptable  to  the  more 
serious  as  well  as  the  more  intellectual  class  of  his  hearers.  His  manner  in 
the  pulpit  was  simple  and  quiet,  while  yet  it  showed  a  deep  interest  in  his  own 
utterances.  His  voice  was  not  loud,  but  it  was  clear,  and  his  enunciation  dis- 
tinct, so  that  he  could  readily  be  heard  through  a  large  house.  His  discourses 
were  skilfully  framed,  and  characteiized  by  good  taste,  and  weighty  and  gen- 
erally practical  thought.  He  was  highly  esteemed  while  he  lived,  and  he  is 
still  held  in  cherished  remembrance  here  by  all  denominations. 

Yours  affectionately, 

SAMUEL  OSGOOD. 


SYLVESTER  JUDD.* 

1840  —  1853. 

Sylvester  Judd  was  born  in  Westliampton,  Mass.,  July  23,  1813. 
He  was  a  great-grandson  of  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Judd,  wlio  was,  for  up- 
wards of  sixty  years.  Pastor  of  the  Church  in  Southampton.  His  father 
was  Sylvester  Judd,  a  man  of  great  personal  worth  and  considerable  intel- 
lectual culture,  who  was,  for  some  time,  editor  of  the  Hampshire  Ga- 
zette, a  well-known  paper  published  at  Northampton.  His  mother  was 
Apphia,  daughter  of  Aaron  Hall,  of  Norwich,  a  lady  of  great  sensibility 
and  refinement,  and  fitted  to  adorn  an  elevated  sphere  in  society.  His 
childhood  and  early  youth  were  marked  by  an  amiable  and  gentle  spirit,  a 

•  Memoir  by  Mrs.  Hall. 


560  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

great  degree  of  conscientiousness,  and  a  much  more  than  ordinary  facility 
at  acquiiiiig  knowledge.  In  the  spring  of  1822,  when  Sylvester  was  in 
his  niulli  year,  his  fatlier  transferred  his  residence  to  Northampton  ;  and, 
amidst  the  many  genial  influences  of  that  fine  old  town,  the  faculties  of 
the  boy  were  very  advantageously  developed.  He  attended,  for  a  while, 
the  old  Ilawley  Grammar  School  in  Nortliampton  ;  but,  in  1824,  was  sent 
to  Westfield  Academy,  then  under  the  care  of  Mr.  (now  the  llev.  Dr.) 
Emerson  Davis.  Having  remained  liere  for  somewhat  less  than  a  year,  lie 
returned  to  Northampton,  and  attended  a  private  school  under  the  instruc- 
tion of  Mr.  Cliarles  Walker  :  and,  a  little  later, — in  tire  summer  of  1825, — 
he  entered  a  school  taught  by  Mr.  Robert  A.  Coffin,  where  he  continued 
for  two  or  three  years. 

In  1826  there  was  a  revival  of  religion  in  Nortliampton,  under  the  min- 
istry of  the  Rev.  (now  Dr.)  Mark  Tucker,  of  which  Sylvester  believed 
himself,  and  was  believed  by  others,  to  be  a  subject;  but,  though  he  mani- 
fested great  fervour  of  spirit,  he  did  not,  j^t  that  time,  make  a  public  profes- 
sion of  religion.  He  remained  at  school  for  some  time  after  this,  and  was 
desirous  of  going  on  with  his  preparation  for  College  ;  but  his  father,  for 
•want  of  pecuniary  means,  felt  unable  to  indulge  him  in  this  wish.  This 
was  a  great  disappointment  to  him,  and.  under  its  influence,  he  became  for 
a  while  restless  and  unhappy,  and  even  his  natural  amiableness  of  spirit 
seemed  temporarily  to  leave  him.  After  spending  a  few  months  with  his 
grandfather  in  Westhampton,  he  determined,  in  the  spring  of  1829,  to  see 
what  he  could  do  in  the  mercantile  line,  and,  accordingly,  went  to  Green- 
field to  serve  as  a  clerk  in  the  store  of  an  uncle.  Not  succeeding  well, 
however,  he  returned  home  after  about  a  year,  where,  for  some  months,  he 
made  himself  useful  to  his  father  in  keeping  books  atid  settling  accounts. 
But,  as  he  found  no  prospect  of  permanent  employment  at  Northampton, 
he  resolved  on  trying  his  hand  once  more  as  a  clerk,  and  a  place  was  pro- 
cured for  him  in  a  dry-goods  store  in  Hartford.  Though  he  began  with  a 
full  purpose  to  make  himself  master  of  the  business,  the  experiment  did 
not  result  metre  favourably  than  the  one  at  Greenfield  ;  and,  after  a  short 
time,  his  employer  felt  constrained  to  tell  him  that  he  would  not  answer 
his  purpose.  He  now  returned  to  Northampton,  deeply  chagrined,  and 
ventured  an  earnest  appeal  to  his  father  for  his  consent  that  he  should 
receive  a  collegiate  education.  His  father,  without  at  once  giving  him  an 
afiirmative  answer,  consented  that  he  should  spend  the  next  winter  at  his 
grandfather's  in  Westhampton,  and  attend  a  private  school  taught  by  Dr. 
Wheeler,  of  that  place.  Here  he  resumed  his  studies  with  great  zeal,  and 
passed  the  winter  both  pleasantly  and  profitably.  In  the  spring  of  1831 
he  returned  to  Northampton,  and  about  the  first  of  June  became  a  mem- 
ber of  Hopkins  Academy,  Hadley,  boarding  at  home,  and  walking  to  and 
from  school  six  miles  every  day.  Shortly  after  this,  he  made  a  public  pro- 
fession of  religion,  and  joined  the  Congregational  Church  in  Northampton, 
then  under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  (afterwards  Dr.)  Ichabod  S.  Spencer.  A 
revival  of  religion  occurred  in  this  church  about  the  same  time,  into  which 
young  Judd  entered  with  great  zeal,  insomuch  that  he  performed  the  ser- 
vice of  a  voluntary  missionary,  in  going  into  the  neighbouring  towns,  and 


SYLVESTER    JUDD.  561 

holding  meetings,  in  which  he  delivered  the  most  earnest  exhortations,  and 
did  his  utmost  to  extend  the  revival  spirit. 

In  September,  1832,  after  having  been  connected  with  the  Hopkins 
Academy  a  little  more  than  a  year,  he  was  admitted  a  member  of  tlie  Fresh- 
man class  in  Yale  College.  The  following  consecration  of  himself  to  God, 
which  he  committed  to  paper,  in  January  following,  shows  his  general 
state  of  religious  feeling  at  the  commencement  of  his  college  course  : — 

"  Fully  sensible  of  my  weakness,  sinfulness,  and  proneness  to  wander;  in  full  view  of 
the  temptations  from  tlie  world,  theflesli,  aiid  the  devil ;  aware  of  the  great  obligations 
this  act  imposes  upon  me,  yet  knowing  that  our  blessed  Captain  requires  the  entire 
soul,  the  supreme  affection  and  wliole  devotion  of  all  his  followers,  not  only  as  the 
strict  demand  of  duty  but  as  tlie  happy  enjuyment  of  privilege,  and  trusting  in  llim 
who  strengthens  the  weak,  makes  holy  the  sinful,  and  who  gives  grace  to  resist  in  the 
hour  of  temptation,  and  with  much  prayer  for  direction  and  support,  I  now  make  tliis 
solemn  consecration: — 

"  1  consecrate  myself,  my  time,  my  talents,  my  influence,  my  thoughts,  my  property, 
my  knowledge,  and  my  all  to  God.  and  his  service.  Be  my  witness.  Holy  Father,  thou 
my  Saviour,  thou  my  Sanctilier,  angels,  spirits  of  the  pit,  myself. 

''  I  consecrate  myself  as  soul  and  body,  the  one  to  devise,  and  the  other  to  act,  till 
death  dissolves  tlieir  mutual  connection;  and  then,  my  spirit,  wherever  in  the  universe 
of  God  its  existence  may  continue,  and  its  service  be  required.     I  consecrate  my  time, 
to  fill  up  each  year,  month,  week,  day,  liour,  and  moment,  with  some  act  performed 
that  shall  bear  the  impress, — '  Holiness  to  the  Lord;' — my  talents,  to  give  them  a 
decidedly  religious  culture,  and  to  exert  them  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  holiness,  and 
in  opposition  to  error  and  irreligion,  wherever  seen  and  however  found; — my  intliience, 
to  extend  its  sphere  as  much  as  possible,  to  have  it  so  decided  that  all  may  know  that 
it  is  for  God,  at  all  times,  and  under  all  circumstances;  to  never  draw  it  away  for  fear 
of  reproach  or  unpopularity,  witli  whomsoever  I  may  be;  and  to  make  it  as  wholly 
for  the  cause  of  truth  and  religion  as  possible; — my  thoughts,  to  keep  the  current  of 
them  constantly  directed  to  subjects  wliich,  directly  or  indirectly,  promote  his  glory,. 
to  watch  them,  and  check  at  once  all  aberrations,  and  to  give  them  for  food,  not  the- 
allurements  of  ambitious  or  envious  contemplations,  or  lustful  scenes,  or  scenes  of 
worldly  pleasure,  but  the  rich  feast  of  heavenly  .and  Divine  things; — my  property,  to- 
use  what  little  I  now  have,  in   securing  an  education  for  the  Gospel  ministry,  and,, 
should  more  ever  be  my  portion,  to  use  none  of  it  for  superfluous  or  rich  articles  of 
dress  or  household  equipage,  for  the  dainties  or  luxuries  of  food,  or  tor  any  unnecessary 
gratification;  but  to  make  a  wise  distribution  of  it  among  objects  of  benevolence,, 
whether  the  poor  and  distressed  directly  about  me,  or  the  dark  and  benighted  souls  all 
over  the  world;  reserving  so  much  as  a  wise  regard  to  the  interests  of  my  immediate- 
dependents  may  require; — my  knowledge,  when  I  know  sinners  are  pressing  to  ruir>, 
to  endeavour  to  bring  them    to  repentance;   when  I  know  Christians  are  cald  and 
worldly,  to  endeavour  to  warm  their  hearts,  wake  them  to  duty,  and  give  them  an 
impulse  heavenward;  when  I  know  the  result  of  any  measures  will  be  prejudicial  to 
the  interests  of  religion,  acting  always  discreetly  and  carefully,  to  point  out  the  evil, 
and  attempt  its  stay,  and  to  increase  my  knowledge,  by  every  possible  means,  in  things 
that  have  a  bearing  on  the  destiny  of  man,  the  glory  of  God,  or  the  salvation  of  the 
world; — and  I  consecrate  my  all — help.  Lord — can  I  do  it?     Have  I  counted  the  cost? 
"Will  my  after  life  bear  witness  to  a  consecration  entire,  and  never  disregarded  or  brot- 
kerf?     How  weak  I  am!     Help  me,  dear  Saviour,  not  only  to  write,  but  to  keep  this 
last,  and  each  particular,  of  my  setting  apart  myself  to  thy  service:  yes,  I  do  it — I  make 
a  dedication  of  my  all.    Henceforth,  fare  thee  well  vain  world!    Welcome  Cross!    I'll 
take  thee  up  and  bear  thee,  through  strifes,  through  sneers,  though,  death  be  mj"^  por- 
tion.   Come   Si)irit  of  Heaven!    Come,  take  u])  thine  abode  in  my  heart.    I  would  make 
room  for  thee  there.     I  would  cherish  thee  as  the  apple  of  my  eye,  suffering  nothing  tc 
grieve  thee,  or  cause  thee  to  leave  me.     Begone  Pride,  Anger,  Envy,.  Seltishaess,  with 
all  your  train!     The  blest  Spirit  comes — make  room.     Thou,  Holy  Dove!  come,  and. 
rest  on  me.     I  would  be  meek  as  thou,  as  innocent,  as  pure. 

"  This  act  of  consecration  is  to  be  in  force  to-day,  to-morrow,  next  year,  while  I 
live,  in  death,  and  after  death, — to  all  eternity.  I  henceforth,  in  whatever  I  have  not 
heretofore,  stand  before  the  world,  a  Christian  ;  a  stranger  and  sojourner  here,  as  one 
who  is  not  of  this  world,  but  as  one  whose  heart  and  treasure  are  laid  up  in  Heaven;, 
and  I  will  await  the  hour  of  death  with  a  calm  resignation,  following  the  example 
and  doing  the  will  of  my  Saviour,  till  He  calls  me  away,  to  give  mc  m^y  crovva  of  everr- 
lasting  glory. 

Vol.  VIII.  36 


562  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

'•  Reso'ving  to  read  this  considerately  and  prayerfully,  at  least  once  a  week,  and  pray- 
ing the  Lord  to  enable  me  to  keep  it,  or,  if  it  be  not  entire,  one  more  entire,  I  subscribe 
my  heart  and  name  to  it.  "  S.  JUDD,  Jr." 

Mr.  Judd  was  a  vigorous  and  successful  student  during  his  whole  col- 
lege life.  In  his  Sophomore  year  he  received  the  Berkleiau  prize  for 
Latin  composition,  and,  in  both  his  Sophomore  and  Junior  years,  the  prize 
for  English  composition.  He  graduated  in  September,  1836,  with  one 
of  the  highest  honours  of  his  class, —  an  English  Oration.  He  was  sub- 
jected to  considerable  pecuniary  embarrassment  in  the  prosecution  of  his 
college  course,  and,  notwithstanding  his  great  efforts  at  economy,  and  the 
aid  received  from  some  of  his  friends,  he  found  himself  somewhat  in  debt 
when  he  graduated. 

During  the  last  two  years  that  he  was  in  College,  he  had  been  led  to 
doubt  seriously  in  regard  to  the  truth  of  the  religious  system  in  which  he 
had  been  educated,  and  in  which  he  had  previously  recognized  the  only 
foundation  of  his  hope  of  Heaven.  These  doubts,  however,  he  kept  to 
himself —  though  they  were  constantly  corroding  his  spirit,  sometimes  pro- 
ducing a  state  of  mind  akin  to  scepticism,  and  a  state  of  heart  bordering 
on  despair,  and  though  his  friends  noticed  a  strange  and  sad  appearance  to 
which  they  had  not  been  accustomed,  no  one  knew  what  was  going  on  in 
his  bosom.  Shortly  after  he  graduated,  with  a  view  to  obtain  the  means 
of  liquidating  the  debts  he  had  incurred  for  his  education,  and  of  providing 
the  means  for  the  further  prosecution  of  his  studies,  he  took  charge  of  a 
private  school  in  Templeton,  Mass.  Here  there  were  serious  dlfBculties 
existing  between  the  Calvinistic  and  Unitarian  Societies  ;  and,  though  Mr. 
Judd  was  under  the  patronage  of  the  former,  and  was  considered  by  them 
as  committed  to  "their  interests,  he  felt  that  his  convictions  were  rather 
with  the  latter,  and  his  sympathies  were  all  tending  in  that  direction. 
About  the  time  of  his  leaving  College,  he  was  invited  to  a  Professorship  in 
Miami  College,  Ohio.  In  a  letter  addressed  to  his  brother,  dated  Tem- 
pleton, March  24,  1837,  he  gives  the  reason  for  declining  that  invitation, 
and  in  doing  so  presents  a  striking  picture  of  the  state  of  his  own  mind  at 
that  period.      He  writes  as  follows  : — 

"  I  am  desirous  to  explain  a  little  relative  to  my  declining  the  offer  to  go  to  the  West. 
I  dill  not  come  to  my  decision  without  the  most  deliberate  and  prayerful  consideration; 
and  the  disappointment  to  my  friends  could  not  have  exceeded  the  pain  in  my  own 
feelings.  Tlic  amount  of  my  objection  to  taking  the  proposed  situation  may  be  con- 
tained in  a  word.  I  was  not  willing  to  be  placed  under  those  restrictions  in  religious 
thought  and  feeling  which  would  necessarily  be  imposed  upon  me  in  the  contemplated 
circumstances. 

"  Too  long  has  the  world  groaned  tinder  the  bondage  of  superstition, intolerance  and 
bigotry.  I  am  not  going  to  enter  upon  a  crusade  against  mankind;  but  I  cannot,  I 
dare  not,  lend  my  iiifiuence  to  hind  more  closely  the  j'oke;  neither  ami  willing  to 
yield  myself  to  its  thraldom.  God  made  man,  made  you.  made  me,  made  all  men, 
for  high  and  noble  ends.  He  made  us  in  his  own  image,  to  reflect  his  own  glory  betbre 
the  eyes  of  the  universe.  A  spiritual  nature  was  given  us,  by  which  to  mount  up.  as 
on  eagles'  wings,  to  an  elevated  existence,  to  an  assimilation  witli  the  Deity.  We  dash 
in  i)ieces  our  heavenly  image;  we  sink  from  our  high  estate;  we  become  the  slaves  of 
one  another.  Yes,  man  is  the  most  abject  slave  of  his  fellow  man.  lie  dare  not  think 
for  himself;  he  dare  not  speak  or  act  for  himself;  and,  more  than  this,  becomes  the 
slave  of  himself  An  unnatural  sense  of  right  and  wrong  causes  him  to  tremble  at 
liis  own  footsteps,  and  startle  at  his  own  breath.  Delusion^  tliat  settle  like  the  i)all  of 
death  upon  the  soul,  have  come  down  from  many  generations.  Their  antiquity  gives 
them  authority,  and  the  assumed  sanction  of  Deity  begets  for  them  reverence.  None 
dare  question  their  truth,  or.  if  he  doubt,  he  is  condemned  if  he  speak.     I  boast  of  no 


SYLVESTER   JUDD.  563 

superior  penetration;  but  there  are  some  things  so  plain  that  he  who  runs  may  read. 
I  can  claim  no  superior  boldness;  but.  if  I  have  not  courage  enough  to  attack  the 
absurdities  of  others,  I  am  sure  I  have  too  much  obstinacy  to  be  led  by  their  perver- 
sions. Away  with  faint-heartedness!  Let  the  cry  of  heresy  come.  Let  persecution 
come.  Only  let  truth,  God's  own  truth  prevail.  I  anticipate  the  day  when  truth  shall 
ride  forth  conquering  and  to  conquer.  I  cannot  say  when;  I  only  pray  for  nerve  and 
resolution  to  urge  on  the  chariot  wheels.  I  cannot  rest.  The  Lord  has  been  leading 
me  by  ways  that  I  thought  not  of.  He  has  sorely  tried  me,  to  see  if  I  would  trust  Him. 
I  hope  He  will  make  me  a  fit  instrument  for  accomplishing  his  work.  I  do  not  seek 
independence  of  action  for  its  own  sake.  No,  no.  It  is  always  easier  to  float  with  the 
current.     But  alas!  '  'twas  floating  me  down  to  dark  despair.' 

"  These  considerations  have  long  been  pressing  upon  me;  at  times  they  have  made 
me  wretched  Convictions  were  overwhelming  me;  but  I  would  not  yield  to  them, 
and  then  came  the  struggle.  I  thought  of  what  my  friends  would  think,  and  then 
came  a  deeper  agony.  Oh,  yes,  that  1  must  disappoint  the  expectations  of  my  dearest 
friends!  Tliis  has  been  my  bitterest  anguish.  But  God  has  sustained  me  in  my  reso- 
lutions, and  I  trust  He  will  aid  me  in  the  execution.  Feeling  and  thinking  thus,  you 
see  I  could  not  become  connected  with  an  Old  School  Presbyterian  College  in  Ohio. 
May  I  never  repent  my  decision!" 

Mr.  Judd  felt  so  much  embarrassed  by  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
found  himself  at  Templeton,  that,  in  the  spring  of  1837,  he  resigned  the 
situation,  and  returned  to  Northampton,  prepared  to  avow  the  change  which 
had  taken  place  in  his  views  of  Christian  doctrine.  He  wrote  a  somewhat 
extended  account  of  the  process  by  which  this  change  had  been  effected, 
under  the  title  "  Cardiagraphy,"  designed  especially  for  the  use  of  his 
immediate  family  and  friends,  who  were  greatly  distressed  at  the  idea  of 
his  becoming  a  Unitarian  ;  and  tliis  exposition  seems  to  have  had  the  effect, 
not  of  changing  their  views,  but  of  softening  their  feelings  at  least  into  a 
kindly  forbearance.  Having  re-solved  to  enter  the  ministry  in  connection 
with  the  Unitarian  denomination,  he  went  to  Cambridge  in  the  fall  of  1837, 
and  became  a  student  in  the  Divinity  School,  availing  himself  partly  of  a 
fund  for  the  benefit  of  theological  students,  and  partly  of  the  liberality  of 
a  gentleman  in  Boston,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  lending  money  to  students 
there  without  interest,  and  to  be  returned  or  not,  as  might  suit  their  con- 
venience. 

Though  he  was  now  surrounded  with  those  whose  general  views  of  Chris, 
tianity  harmonized  with  his  own,  he  did  not  find  the  atmosphere  altogether 
a  congenial  one — he  found  much  less  of  fervour  than  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to,  and  less  than  he  desired.  He  was  instrumental  in  establishing 
private  meetings  for  prayer  among  his  fellow-students,  and  was  distin- 
guished for  the  readiness  with  which  he  bore  his  part  in  these  exercises. 
In  his  Journal,  February  23,  1838,  he  writes  of  them, — "  These  are  delight- 
ful seasons.  We  seem  to  get  each  night  a  little  nearer  to  Heaven."  In 
his  second  year,  he  communicated  to  the  Cliristian  llej^ister  a  series  of 
Letters  addressed  to  a  friend  upon  the  change  of  his  religious  views,  which 
were  soon,  by  request  of  the  American  Association,  published  as  a  Tract, 
under  the  title, — "  A  Young  Man's  Account  of  his  Conversion  from  Cal- 
vinism." In  his  Journal,  under  date  December,  1839,  we  find  the  follow- 
ing entry,  which  illustrates  his  peculiar  temperament,  as  well  as  shows  that 
he  was  at  least  subject  to  seasons  of  depression  : 

"  All  things  sadden  me.     Mr.  M coming  in,  and  talking  about   '  these  views,' 

makes  me  sad.  Philosophy,  Theology,  Poetry,  make  me  sad.  Coleridge,  and  Ripley, 
and  N  orton,  make  me  sad.  My  father's  presence  with  me  now  makes  me  sad.  The 
snow,  my  rose  plant,  the  cold  moon,  produce'the  same  eflect.  The  past,  the  present, 
and  the  future,  life  and  no  life,  what  I  am  and  wiiat  I  have  been,  the  letters  of  my 
friends,  pain  in  my  head  and  in  my  heart, — all,  all  deepen  the  one  feeling.     Now  do 


5C4  UNITARIAN    CONGREGATIONAL. 

not  attempt  to  thread  those  things  all  on  one  string.  Tou  cannot  do  it.  You  cannot 
detect  a  cijminon  point  of  harmony.  Possibly  none  such  exists.  Such  a  mood  likes 
sometimes  to  utter  itself  without  point  and  without  coherence.  It  has  its  own 
idiom,  and  adopts  its  own  language." 

Oil  the  6th  of  July,  1840,  a  few  weeks  before  closing  his  course  at  the 
Divinity  School,  Mr.  Judd  engaged  to  supply  the  pulpit  of  the  Unitarian 
Church  in  Augu.sta,  Me.,  for  six  weeks.  In  accordance  with  this  engage- 
meiit,  he  preached  his  first  sermon  there  on  the  morning  of  the  26th  of 
the  same  month  ;  and  in  just  one  month  from  that  day  he  received  a  call 
to  become  the  Pastor  of  tliat  church.  He,  however,  had  previously  engaged 
to  supply  the  Unitarian  pulpit  in  Deerfield,  Mass.,  during  the  month  of 
September;  and  he  accordingly  went  thither  about  the  close  of  August, 
and  preached  four  Sabbaths,  mucli  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  people.  In. 
deed,  they  would  gladly  have  retained  him  as  tlieir  Pastor,  but  he  felt 
bound,  in  honour,  to  return  to  Augusta,  where,  on  the  1st  of  October,  he 
received  Ordination.  All  the  Maine  Unitarian  clergymen  were  present. 
On  the  next  Sabbath  morning,  he  preached  on  the  text, — "  Woe  is  unto 
me,  if  I  preach  not  the  Gospel." 

On  the  31st  of  August,  1841,  Mr.  Judd  was  married  to  Jane  E.,  daugh- 
ter of  the  Hon.  Reuel  Williams,  of  Augusta,  a  member  of  the  United 
States  Senate  from  Maine.      He  became  the  father  of  three  children. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  year  1842,  Mr.  Judd  projected  a  course 
of  Monthly  Lectures  on  subjects  of  general  interest,  to  be  delivered  in  his 
church  on  Sabbath  evenings.  The  third  Lecture  was  entitled  "  A  31oral 
Review  of  the  Revolutionary  War  ;  or  some  of  the  Evils  of  that  Event 
Considered."  In  detailing  the  evils  involved  in  the  contest,  he  was  under- 
stood by  many  to  reflect  upon  Washington  and  other  heroes  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. The  Legislature  of  the  State  being  in  session,  many  of  the  mem- 
bers were  in  his  audience  ;  and  most  of  them  were  greatly  displeased,  and 
some  testified  their  displeasure  by  leaving  the  house.  Mr.  Judd  had  been 
invited,  in  common  with  the  other  clergymen  of  Augusta  and  Hallowell, 
to  officiate  in  turn  as  Chaplain  of  both  houses;  but  the  first  official  busi- 
ness which  they  did  the  next  morning  after  hearing  this  Lecture,  was  to 
pass  a  Resolution  excusing  Mr.  Judd  from  any  longer  performing  this  ser- 
vice. He  was  greatly  surprised  at  the  construction  that  was  placed  on 
■what  he  had  delivered,  and  was  therefore  led,  in  self-defence,  to  publish 
the  Discourse  with  copious  notes,  and  a  long  list  of  references  as  authority 
for  his  statements.  At  the  next  session  of  the  Legislature,  the  question 
whether  the  invitation  to  Mr.  Judd  to  officiate  as  Chaplain  should  be 
renewed,  was  agitated  with  some  degree  of  warmth,  but  was  finally  decided 
in  the  negative. 

In  the  spring  of  1842  a  general  attention  to  religion  prevailed  among 
all  classes  in  and  about  Augusta,  and  Mr.  Judd  earnestly  proposed  a  union 
meeting  of  all  the  different  denominations,  each  congregation  to  be  repre- 
sented by  its  own  minister,  and  the  several  ministers  to  be  represented  in 
their  several  congregations.  The  proposal  was  concurred  in  b}'  the  minis- 
ters of  the  Episcopal,  Free-Will  Baptist,  and  Universalist  churches  ;  but 
the  Orthodox  Congregational  and  Methodist  declined,  and  the  Baptist  did 
not  fully  respond  to  the  call,  so  that  the  plan — much  to  the  regret  of  Mr. 
Judd — did  not  take  effect. 


SYLVESTER    JUDD.  565 

In  1847,  wliile  tlie  War  with  IMexico  was  going  forward,  Mr.  Judd'a 
inind  was  deeply  wrought  upon  in  reference  to  the  subject,  and  a  corre- 
sponding complexion  was  given  to  his  public  ministrations.  When  the 
Annual  Thanksgiving  occurred,  so  fully  was  he  impressed  with  the  horrors 
of  this  war  and  its  attendant  evils,  that,  instead  of  calling  to  rememhriinee 
the  testimonies  of  the  Divine  goodness,  as  is  common  on  such  occasions, 
liis  pr;iyer  was  the  mere  pouring  forth  of  confessions  of  national  guilt,  and 
dej)recations  of  deserved  punishment.  When  the  time  for  the  Sermon 
came,  he  rose  and  opened  the  Bible  at  the  IJook  of  Lamentations;  and 
then,  with  a  trembling  voice  and  deep  pathos,  gave  utterance  to  the  moaii- 
ings  of  the  old  prophet  over  the  sins  and  desolations  of  his  beloved  coun- 
try ;  and,  having  done  this,  he  dismissed  the  congregation.  lie  also  omit- 
ted to  read  the  Governor's  Proclamation,  on  the  ground  that  it  contained, 
as  he  thought,  an  unauthorizeil  prescription  to  clergymen  as  to  what  they 
should  preach  in  their  own  jiulpits.  His  course  on  this  occasion  was  vari- 
ously estimated  by  different  parties, — some  putting  it  to  the  account  of 
affectation,  and  some  to  that  of  eccentricity,  while  those  wlio  knew  hiia 
best  felt  assured  that  it  was  the  result  of  deep  conscientious  conviction. 

In  (he  autumn  of  1852  Mr.  Judd  attended  the  Unitarian  Conventioa 
at  Baltimore,  in  the  hope  of  securing  a  discussion  of  certain  favourite 
ideas  of  his,  having  a  bearing  upon  the  Church;  —  especially  the  bringing 
of  all,  parents  and  children,  to  celebrate  the  Ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per. In  this,  however,  he  was  somewhat  disappointed,  though  he  consoled 
himself  with  the  thought  that  the  subjects  were  fairly  introduced,  and 
would  receive  due  attention  the  next  year.  Meanwhile  he  was  labouring, 
to  the  extent  of  his  ability,  to  bring  his  own  coiii^rogal  imi  to  the  [iractical 
adoption  of  the  views  to  which  he  attached  so  much  importance. 

On  the  first  Sabbath  of  the  year  1853  Mr.  Judd  preached  a  New  Year's 
Sermon,  in  which,  after  noticing  the  great  mortality  among  his  people  by 
which  the  preceding  year  had  been  marked,  he  uttered  these  /as  it  proved) 
ominous  interrogations — "  Who  of  us  will  be  missed  from  these  seats  oa 
another  New  Year's  day  ?  Which  of  you  shall  I  next  be  called  upon  to 
lay  in  tlie  grave?  Or  will  it  be  you  that  shall  perform  the  last  sad  duties 
to  the  cold  remains  of  your  Pastor?"  The  next  day  he  was  busily 
engaged  in  coujpleting  a  discourse  which  he  had  expected  to  deliver  at  the 
Boston  Thursday  Lecture  on  the  same  week.  He  took  leave  of  his  family 
between  eight  and  nine  o'clock,  on  the  same  evening,  and  went  to  a  hotel 
near  the  railroad  depot,  from  which  he  was  to  take  the  cars  early  the  next 
morning.  He  retired  about  ten,  and  was  immediately  seized  with  severe 
chills,  which  precluded  sleep,  but  whicli  he  endured  until  about  three 
o'cloidi  in  the  mortiing,  when  he  was  attacked  with  violent  pain.  At  five 
o'clock  a  physician  was  called,  who  pronounced  his  disease  a  slight  inflam- 
mati(Mi  of  the  bowels.  The  morning  found  him  in  a  state  of  great  ex- 
haustion, so  that,  when  his  wife  reached  his  bedside,  he  was  scarcely  able  to 
speak  to  her.  A  second  physician  was  called'to  see  him  on  Thursday,  but 
he  saw  nothing  m  his  case  to  justify  any  serious  doubt  of  his  speedy  recov- 
ery. On  Saturday,  (January  8,)  though  his  symptoms  had  not  essentially 
improved, — the  weather  being  mild  and  pleasant, — he  was  placed  in  a  close 
carriage,  and  removed  to  his  home.      Here   he  lingered  in  a  state  of  great 


666  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

prostration,  uttering  many  characteristic  expressions,  and  sometimes  evinc- 
ing a  slight  wandering  of  mind,  until  the  morning  of  the  26th,  when  his 
spirit  took  its  final  flight.  When  the  announcement  was  made  to  him,  by  his 
pliysician,  that  he  was  on  the  borders  of  the  invisible  world,  he  broke  outia 
piercing  tones  of  anguish, — "  Oh  my  God  !  I  love  Thee, — I  love  Heaven, — 
I  love  its  glories  ! — But  my  dear  brothers  and  sisters, — my  parents, — my 
wife  and  children, — I  love  you, — how  can  I !  How  can  I  I"  He  soon 
became  composed,  and  the  hymn, — "  Majestic  sweetness  sits  entlironed, 
&c.,"  together  with  some  passages  from  the  New  Testament,  were  read  to 
bin)  ;  but  he  said  but  little  more  before  he  ceased  to  breathe.  His  Funeral 
was  attended  the  next  Sabbath  morning,  and  the  services  conducted  with 
great  appropriateness  and  pathos  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Waterston. 

Mr.  Judd  published  Margaret:  A  Tale  of  the  Real  and  Ideal,  ]2mo., 
1845  ;  Philo,  an  Evangeliad  :  A  Didactic  Poem,  in  blank  verse,  1850  ; 
Richard  Edney,  a  Romance,  1850.  Resides  the  Lecture  on  the  Revolu- 
tionary War,  already  referred  to,  he  published,  in  pamphlet  form,  a  Sermon 
entitled  "  The  True  Dignity  of  Politics,"  (by  request  of  tlie  Legislature  of 
the  State,)  1850  ;  and  an  Oration  on  "  Heroism,"  delivered  at  Augusta, 
on  the  Fourth  of  July,  of  the  same  year.  An  old  Indian  tradition  sug- 
gested to  him  a  Dramatic  Poem,  in  Five  Acts, — "  Tiie  White  Hills  :  An 
American  Tragedy,"  which  is  still  unpublished.  A  volume  entitled  "  The 
Ciiurch,  in  a  Series  of  Discourses,"  was  published  posthumously,  in  1854; 
and  his  Life,  by  Mrs.  Arethusa  Hall,  was  published  the  same  year. 

FROM  THE  REV.  THOMAS  E.  PITKIN,  D.  D. 

Albany,  November  16,  1853. 

My  dear  Sir:  My  acquaintance  with  the  Rev.  Sylvester  Judd  was  limited 
to  the  four  years  in  which  we  were  fellow  students  in  Yale  College.  I  knew 
him  quite  well  as  a  classmate,  and  knew  the  estimation  in  wliich  he  was 
generally  held,  but  I  cannot  say  that  he  was  ever  among  mj'  most  intimate 
friends.  Such  recollections  and  impressions  as  1  have  concerning  him  I  will 
very  freely  communicate  to  you. 

Mr.  Judd's  personal  appearance  was  decidedly  attractive.  He  was  of  about 
the  middle  height,  well  proportioned,  with  light  hair,  a  florid  complexion,  and 
altogether  an  expressive  countenance.  lie  was  uncommonly  neat  in  his  dress, 
without  any  thing,  however,  approaching  the  fop  or  the  dandy.  His  manners 
were  simple  ard  natural,  though  indicative  of  what  he  actually  possessed — a 
higlily  nervous  temperament.  He  held  an  excellent  rank  as  a  scholar,  though 
I  think  he  had  more  facility  in  the  languages  and  other  kindred  studies  than 
in  the  hi-her  branches  of  Mathematics.  The  high  honour  which  he  received 
when  he  graduated  was  the  best  attestation  to  his  superior  scholarship. 

Mr.  Judd  was  not  a  man  who  would  be  likely  to  pass  unnoticed  in  the 
crowd.  I  could  not  describe  him  intellectually  better  than  by  saying  tliat  he 
was  a  man  of  genius.  His  mind  seemed  ill  at  home  in  a  beaten  track.  His 
imagination  was  lively  and  brilliant,  and  would  throw  off"  splendid  imagery 
with  little  or  no  apparent  effort.  The  productions  of  his  pen,  after  he  had 
reached  a  greater  maturity,  had  the  same  graceful  facility  of  thought,  the 
same  exuberant  fancy,  the  same  striking  and  eccentric  habit  of  mind,  impressed 
upon  them,  of  which  we  witnessed  the  earlier  manifestations  in  College. 

Mr.  Judd  naturally  possessed  a  morbid  temperament;  and  this  had  much 
to  do  in  giving  complexion  to  bis  general  character.  When  he  came  to  College, 
no  one  could  have  been  more  zealous  than  he  in  every  thing  pertaining  to  the 


HIRAM    WITHINGTON.  567 

religious  life.  His  heart  seemed  overflowing  with  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  all 
who  came  within  his  reach.  Not  only  was  he  most  punctual  in  attending  oa 
all  the  regular  religious  services  of  the  College,  hut  he  was  foremost  in  the 
prayer-meetings  of  the  students,  and  was  always  ready  to  drop  a  word  of 
warning  or  reproof  in  the  ear  of  the  careless,  as  he  found  opportunity.  In- 
deed, tliere  were  not  wanting  those,  and  exemplary  professors  of  religion  too, 
who  thouglit  that  he  carried  this  part  of  Christian  duty  sometimes  to  an 
extreme,  and  that  his  usefulness  would  liave  heen  greater  if,  on  some  occasions, 
his  zeal  had  been  more  highly  tempered  with  prudence.  Nobody,  however, 
doubted  that  his  efforts  in  this  direction  were  always  dictated  by  an  honest 
desire  to  do  good.  During  the  latter  part  of  his  college  life,  a  change  seemed  to 
come  over  him,  the  reason  of  which  was  not  at  the  time,  so  f;ir  as  I  know,  even 
guessed  at  by  anybody.  Not  only  was  there  a  great  waning  in  his  religious 
zeal,  but  he  evinced  a  thoroughly  morbid  habit  of  mind,  which  kept  liim  in  a 
great  measure  insulated  among  his  fellow  students.  It  subsequently  appeared 
that  the  process  was  at  this  time  going  forward  by  wliicli  his  ecclesiastical 
relations  were  iinally  to  be  changed,  and,  instead  of  being  an  Orthodox  minis- 
ter, as  he  and  his  friends  had  expected,  he  was  to  take  liis  place  among  the 
lights  of  Unitarianism.  I  had  no  personal  knowledge  of  him  after  we  parted 
at  College,  but  I  was  not  surprised  to  hear  that  he  became  a  man  of  mark  in 
the  denomination  with  which  he  was  finally  connected. 

I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Affectionately  yours, 

THOMAS  C.  PITKIN. 


HIRAM  WITHINGTON.* 

1844—1848. 

Hiram  Withington,  a  son  of  Isaac  Withington,  was  born  in  Dor- 
chester, Mass.,  July  29,  1818.  His  childhood  and  youth  were  marked  by 
uncommon  amiableness  and  gentleness,  but  by  much  more  than  ordinary 
activity  of  mind  and  strengtli  of  purpose.  As  an  evidence  of  his  early 
maturity,  it  has  been  stated  tliat,  when  he  was  only  fourteen  years  of  age, 
he  was  sometimes  left  in  charge  of  the  school  of  which  he  was  a  member 
for  an  entire  day,  and  every  thing  would  move  on  with  as  mucli  order  as 
if  the  regular  instructor  had  been  present.  A  year  later  he  had  much  to 
do  in  organizing  a  Temperance  Society  and  a  Debating  Club  among  the 
boys,  and  also  in  establishing  a  library  for  the  use  of  the  members  of  the 
Club.  He  was  generally  of  a  sedate  turn,  and  yet  loved  fun  and  abounded 
in  anecdote.  He  was  very  fond  of  reading,  especially  poetry  ;  and  he  took 
great  delight  in  solitary  rambles,  and  in  surveying  the  beauties  of  nature. 

He  attended  a  common  school  until  he  was  fourteen  years  old,  and,  after- 
wards, for  two  years,  an  Academ}'.  At  the  age  of  sixteen,  he  engaged  very 
successfully'  as  teacher  of  a  school  in  Hanson.  The  next  year  he  was  sim- 
ilarly engaged  in  one  of  the  Grammar  Schools  at  Dorchester  ;  and  from 
this  period  he  dated  the  beginning  of  his  religious  life.  He  became  now 
connected  with  the  Sunday  School  ;  and,  by  the  part  which  he  bore  in  tlie 
discussious  at  the  teachers'  meetings,  as  well  as  by  his  simple  and  beautiful 
♦Memoir  by  Rev.  J.  II.  Allen. 


568  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

deliverancos  to  the  scholars,  he  awakened  a  deep  interest  among  all  who 
Avere  in  any  way  connected  with  tlie  school. 

In  due  time,  he  communicated  to  his  Pastor,  the  Eev.  Nathaniel  Ilall, 
his  desire  to  enter  the  ministry,  and  received  from  him  the  most  encoura- 
ging sympathy;  though  his  own  father,  in  view  of  the  difficulties  which  he 
saw  in  the  way,  looked  somewhat  doubtfully  on  the  project.  So  strong, 
however,  was  Hiram's  desire  and  purpose  that,  having  gained  a  slight 
knowledge  of  Latin,  and  laid  aside  the  small  income  of  his  school,  he  went, 
in  tlie  spring  of  1839,  to  Northborough,  where  he  became  both  a  teacher 
and  a  scliolar  in  tlie  family  of  the  llev.  Dr.  Joseph  Allen.  Here  he 
remniiicd  a  little  more  tlian  two  years,  during  which  time  his  intellect 
developed  with  great  rapidity.  In  1841  he  became  a  student  at  tlie  Di- 
vinity School,  Cambridge,  where  he  took  the  regular  course  of  three  years. 
During  this  period  he  was  habitually  cheerful  and  happy,  and  his  mind  was 
always  vigorously  occupied,  though  he  was  little  inclined  to  be  a  nietliodi- 
cal  student.  The  last  winter  of  his  theological  course  he  spent  in  teaching 
a  public  school  at  Hanson,  in  order  to  meet  his  necessary  expenses.  In 
July,  1844,  he  was  one  of  a  class  of  four  that  graduated  at  the  Theological 
School.  His  Dissertation  on  that  occasion,  "On  the  Mystical  Element  of 
Religion,"  was  published  in  the  Christian  Examiner, — the  only  production 
of  his  pen  that  appeared  in  print  during  his  lifetime,  with  tlie  exception 
of  a  Sermon  addressed  to  Children.  From  his  first  appearance  in  the  pul- 
pit he  was  a  popular  preacher,  possessing  that  delicacy,  tenderness  and 
glow  of  both  thought  and  feeling,  that  gave  him  great  command  over  his 
audience. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  next  autumn  he  came  under  an  engagement  to 
preacli  to  the  Congregational  church  at  Leominster,  in  Worcester  County, 
and,  on  Christmas  day  following,  was  ordained  and  installed  as  Pastor  of 
that  cliurch.  Meanwhile,  on  the  19th  of  November,  he  had  been  married 
to  Elizabeth  Clapp,  of  Dorchester.  Thus  began  his  conjugal  life  and  his 
ministerial  life  almost  at  the  same  time  ;  but  though  the  niorning  seemed 
bright,  it  proved  the  harbinger  of  a  dark  and  sorrowful  day.  In  addition 
to  the  severe  labour  incident  to  the  charge  of  a  very  large  parish,  he  was 
subject  to  no  small  anxiety  from  different  causes,  and  especially  from  the 
feeble  health  of  his  wife,  aTid  the  dangerous  illness  of  his  sister.  His  own 
health  began  soon  perceptibly  to  wane,  and  so  much  was  he  affected  by  the 
heat  of  early  summ  r  that  he  found  himself  under  the  necessity  of  tem- 
porarily withdrawing  from  his  labours,  Accoi'dingly,  having  left  his  house- 
hold in  the  charge  of  a  young  friend  and  relative,  he  wandered  away  from 
home,  in  the  hope  that  two  or  three  months  spent  in  recreation  might  so 
invigorate  his  system  that  he  would  be  prepared  to  resume  the  duties  of 
his  charge.  Towards  the  end  of-  September  he  actually  did  resume  them, 
by  the  advice  of  his  physician,  and  seems  to  have  projected  much  work 
for  liiniself,  though  he  was  quickly  admonished  that  he  was  still  an  invalid. 
But  another  cloud  now  darkened  his  sky  which  he  had  not  before  seen  even 
in  the  distance.  On  the  3d  of  December,  his  wife  died,  leaving  to  his 
charge  nn  infant  only  a  few  days  old.  It  was  a  desolating  stroke  to  him, 
and  he  felt  it  most  deeply;  but  still  maintained  a  calmness  and  even  cheer- 
fulness that  astonished  his  friends. 


HIRAM   WITHINGTON.  569 

Mr.  Withington  devoted  no  small  part  of  his  time  to  pastoral  visitation. 
His  visits,  during  the  first  year  of  his  ministry,  amounted  to  five  hundred 
and  fifty,  and,  in  the  third  year,  to  eight  hundred.  He  was  particularly 
attentive  to  the  sick  and  afflicted.  Among  other  services  which  he  ren- 
dered was  the  founding  of  a  Minister's  Library,  partly  from  the  bequest 
of  a  generous  parishioner,  and  partly  by  contributions  from  ladies  of  the 
Society. 

On  the  21st  of  February,  1848,  he  was  married  to  Phila  A.  Field  ;  and 
on  the  occasion  he  writes  thus  :  —  "Shall  I  build  again  the  sacred  walls  of 
home,  whose  sudden  fall  has  left  me  surrounded  with  a  heap  of  ruin  ? 
Will  the  old  Eden  of  love,  and  thought,  and  hope  come  back  again  ?  I 
feel  as  if  it  might.  I  need  not  say  that  I  am  happy  ;  happier  than  I  ever 
trusted  or  dared  hope  to  be  again."  But,  notwithstanding  the  clieerful  ex- 
perience which  he  here  records,  the  tone  of  his  system  seems  to  have  been 
permanently  depressed,  and  his  mind  came  to  be  ill  at  ease  on  the  great 
question  as  to  the  nature  and  grounds  of  authority  in  religious  belief. 
After  undergoing  much  physical  prostration,  and  many  severe  mental  strug- 
gles, he  asked  leave  on  the  2d  of  July  to  resign  his  pastoral  charge,  and  the 
parish  reluctantly  consented  to  his  request  on  the  31st  of  the  same  month; 
voting  unanimously  to  continue  his  salary  to  him  till  November  follow, 
ing.  On  the  3d  of  September  he  delivered  his  Farewell  Sermon,  of  which 
the  following  paragraphs  were  the  conclusion  :  — 

"  Wlierever  we  dwell  in  this  world  of  time,  tlie  same  Heavens  are  over  us,  and  the 
same  beuij;nant  presence  is  around  us,  a  guide  and  a  protection.  However  apart  our 
lives  may  lie  henceforth,  the  sympathy  of  friendly  regard,  of  common  tlioughts  and 
aimS;  and  of  Christian  faith  and  as[)iration,  will.  I  trust,  unite  me  with  many  among 
you.  In  the  pleasant  memories,  and  the  kindly  afTectious,  and  the  earnest  prayers  of 
niy  heart,  you  will  always  hold  a  j)lace. 

"  And  now  may  all  good  gifts  abound  unto  you.  The  faith  and  the  spirit  of  Jesus 
abide  with  you,  sanctifying  your  hearts  and  your  homes.  God  Almighty  keep  and 
bless  you  in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  in  time  and  eternity.     Farewell." 

On  Friday,  the  15th  of  September,  he  removed  with  his  wife  and  child 
to  Dorchester,  and  took  up  his  residence  with  his  father.  Having  an  en- 
gagement to  preach  at  Taunton,  the  following  Sabbath,  and  finding  him- 
self too  unwell  to  make  the  journey,  he  went  to  Boston  to  procure  a  sub- 
stitute ;  but,  not  succeeding  in  this,  he  actually  went  himself  and  met  the 
engagement.  On  reaching  home  on  Monday,  he  complained  of  increased 
illness,  and,  in  tlie  course  of  a  day  or  two,  it  became  apparent  that  he  wa3 
suffering  from  fever.  Considering  the  issue  of  his  complaint  as  uncertain, 
he  made  his  will,  and  arranged  all  his  temporal  concerns  with  reference  to 
his  departure.  For  three  or  four  weeks  from  the  commencement  of  his 
illness,  his  friends  cherished  strong  hopes  of  his  recovery  ;  but  now  a  deci- 
dedly un  favourable  change  seemed  to  render  it  almost  certain  that  his  disease 
was  incurable.  Afterwards,  however,  it  seemed  to  take  a  more  favour- 
able turn,  and  this  apparent  improvement  continued  for  two  weeks, — 
nearly  up  to  tlie  day  of  his  death.  His  wife  had  been  seized  by  a  violent 
illness  shortly  after  his  own  attack,  and  had  not  seen  him  for  several  weeks 
until  she  walked  into  his  chamber  on  the  morning  of  his  decease.  He 
smiled  upon  her,  and  reached  out  his  hand,  but  could  not  speak.  He  died 
on  the  30tli  of  October;  and  on  the  2d  of  November,  a  Funeral  service  was 
held  at  the  church  where  he  had  been  accustomed  to  attend,  and  was  con- 


570  UNITARIAN     CONGREGATIONAL. 

ducted  by  his  former  Pastor,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hall.  The  remains  were  then 
removed  to  Leominster  for  burial,  where  there  was  a  Funeral  Discourse 
delivered  to  a  large  congregation,  by  the  Rev.  Calviu  Lincoln,  of  Fitch- 
burg. 

Tlie  year  after  his  death,  a  Memoir  of  his  life  was  published,  with  Selec- 
tions from  his  Sermons  and  Correspondence. 

FROM  THE  REV.  NATIIANAEL  HALL. 

Dorchester,  Mass.,  February  1,  18G4. 

Rev.  and  dear  Sir:  You  request  of  me  a  letter  of  personal  recollections  in 
respect  to  the  Rev.  Hiram  Withington,  who,  as  you  rightly  suppose,  '<  was 
brought  up  chiefly  under  mj'  ministry,"  and  who  was  connected  with  my 
church  as  a  regular  attendant  from  childhood,  as  a  communicant,  and  as  a 
Sunday  School  Teacher  and  Superintendent.  Of  his  earlier  life,  to  his  seven- 
teenth year,  (^  which  was  about  his  age  at  the  time  I  took  charge  of  the  cluirch,) 
I  know  personally  nothing.  lie  was,  at  the  time,  a  teacher  in  one  of  tlie  pub- 
lic grammar  schools  of  the  town,  and  known  and  prized  as  a  youth  of  more 
than  ordinary  briglitness  of  intellect,  high  aims  and  amiable  dispositions,  of 
ingenuous  and  blameless  character.  Tlie  tendencies  of  his  nature  were  to  the 
true,  the  right  and  the  good, — tendencies  which  were  strengthened  by  the  in- 
fluences of  his  home.  His  father  was  among  the  best  specimens  of  the  Puri- 
tan stock,  joining  with  a  stern  uprightness  and  guileless  sincerity  a  most  genial 
manner  and  a  childlike  affectionateness.  His  occupation  was  that  of  a  shoe- 
maker, which  he  pursued  at  his  home,  enabling  him  to  spend  much  of  his  time 
With  his  children.  Their  mother,  too,  was  a  kind  and  devoted  one;  and 
Hiram  being  the  youngest,  and  by  a  good  many  years  such,  received  naturally, 
as  well  from  this  fact  as  from  the  sweet  attractiveness  of  his  natuie,  a  large 
share  of  parental  tenderness  and  regard.  But  in  all  who  knew  him  be  inspired 
a  peculiar  interest  and  hopeful  piedictions  of  his  future. 

My  first  knowledge  of  him  was  as  one  gi'owingly  interested  in  preaching 
and  its  sacred  themes.  His  religious  sensibilities,  quick  and  strong,  unfolded, 
while  j'^et  a  youth,  in  a  form  and  measure  which   indicated  and  foietold  his 

future  calling.     He  chose  it  without  hesitation it  may  be  truly  said  it  was 

chosen  for  him;  and  it  was  but  for  him  to  prepare  himself  to  enter  upon  it. 
This  be  set  about  doing  against  pecuniar}-  and  other  obstacles,  with  a  manly 
and  self-devoting  resoluteness,  and  was  at  length  examined  for  admission  and 
received  into  the  Theological  School  at  Cambridge.  Here  he  gave  himself, 
mind  and  heart,  to  the  work  before  him,  most  faithfully  making  use  of  the 
materials  provided  for  him,  and  pursuing  a  range  of  thought  and  a  freedom  of 
speculation, —  free  but  reverent, —  far  higher  than  the  requirements  of  the 
recitation  room  would  have  held  him  to.  He  greatly  attached  himself  to  his 
fellow  students  and  his  teachers,  by  the  beautiful  simplicity  and  childlike 
warmth  of  his  manners,  and  his  elevation  and  earnestness  of  spirit.  His 
appearance  at  this  time  indicated  a  youthfulness  extremer  than  the  fact  He 
looked  the  boy,  though  he  moved  the  man.  He  was  short  of  stature,  slightly 
built,  of  a  delicate  organization,  but  wearing  the  hue  of  health  in  his  florid 
and  beaming  countenance.  The  whole  man  won,  at  first  sight,  a  favourable 
regard,  less  by  any  greatness  of  expectation  from  him  than  by  a  something  in 
him  which  spoke  of  genuineness  and  moral  worth,  of  inward  purity  and  beauty. 

As  a  Preacher,  he  interested  all,  gaining  and  holding  their  attention  as  few 
are  able  to.  While  his  preaching  was  simple  in  style,  it  was  rich  in  thought; 
and  his  style,  though  simple,  was  not  without  the  glow  and  embellishment  of 
a  mind  to  which  the  poetic  element  was  largely  given.  There  was  nothing 
common-place  in  his  preaching,  and  yet  nothing  too  abstruse  for  the  contem- 


HIRAM   WITHINGTON.  571 

plation  of  the  ordinary  hearer.  He  excelled  in  addressing  the  young.  His 
words  fell  like  sunshine  and  dew  upon  the  heart  of  children.  He  attracted 
them  not  more  by  his  power  of  illustration,  which  was  very  marked  and  felic- 
itous, and  his  way  of  presenting  truth  to  them,  than  by  a  charm  of  manner 
and  expression,  begotten  by  his  own  childlike  nature,  and  by  a  sympathy  with 
all  that  was  truest  and  best  in  the  hearts  he  addressed.  He  had  talent  of  a 
high  order — some  would  name  it  genius  —  a  certain  quickness  and  brilliancy 
of  conception,  with  a  remarkable  facility  and  rapidity  of  composition.  This 
latter  gift  may  be  almost  said  to  have  been  a  fatal  one  with  him,  inasmuch  as, 
conscious  of  its  possession,  he  was  often  led  to  defer  a  preparation  for  his 
public  services  until  an  over  excited  brain  or  a  sleepless  night  became  the 
necessary  cost  of  it.  Taking  charge  of  a  large  parish,  with  a  conscientious  de- 
termination and  a  self-devoting  earnestness  of  endeavour  to  do  his  whole  duty, 
as  Preacher  and  Pastor,  with  the  comparatively  slender  mental  resources  and 
imperfect  discipline  which  are  experienced  from  an  absence  of  collegiate  train- 
ing, and  with  a  natural  delicacy  of  physical  constitution,  and  a  too  often  al- 
lowed violation  of  physical  laws,  through  necessities  which  he  partly  made  for 
himself,  and  which  were  partly  enforced  upon  him  by  the  circumstances  of  his 
position, —  he  gradually  sank  beneath  the  weight  of  his  burden,  and  was  com- 
pelled to  leave,  all  too  soon  for  others'  good,  a  work  and  sphere  in  which  his 
heart  found  delight,  in  which  he  rejoiced  to  <«  spend  and  be  spent."  His  min- 
istry was  brief,  but  it  has  doubtless  left  an  enduring  impress  upon  many 
Hearts.  Very  respectfully  vours. 

NATHANAEL  HALL. 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 

OP    THE 

NAMES  OF  THE  SUBJECTS. 


Abbot  Abie],  D.  D 229 

Abbot  Abiel,  D.  D 309 

Abbot  Jacob 320 

Abbot  Joliti  Emery 466 

Abbot  Jobn  Lovejoy 420 

Allyii  John,  D.  D 207 

B. 

Bancroft  Aaron,  D.  D 132 

Barnards  (of  Salcni)   14 

Barnes  David,  D.  D 32 

Bartlett  John 416 

Belknap  Jeremy,  D.  D 73 

Bentley  William,  D.  D 154 

Brazer  John,  D.  D 504 

Buckminster  Joseph  Stevens 384 

c. 

Gary  Samuel 424 

Channing  William  Ellery,  D.  D 360 

Chauncy  Charles.  D.  D 8 

Clarke  John,  D.  D 105 

Cumtniogs  Henry,  D.  D 55 

D. 

Damon  David,  D.  D 461 

Doggett  Simeon 291 

E. 

Eaton  Peter,  D.  D 222 

Eliot  John,  D.  D 92 

Emerson  William 241 

F. 

Flint  James,  D.  D 407 

Follen  Charles,  D.  C.  L 538 

Forster  Anthony 457 

Freeman  James,  D.  D 162 

Frothingham  William 357 

a. 

Gay  Ebenezer,  D.  D 1 

Goodwin  Ezra  Shaw 427 

Goodwin  Henry  Bradford 548 

Greenwood  Francis  Wm.  Pitt,  D.  D. . .  485 

H 

Harris  Thaddeus  Mason,  D.  D 215 

Hildreth  Hosea 445 

Hitchcock  Gad,  D.D 29 

Howard  Bezaleel,  D.D 181 

Howard  Simeon,  D.D 65 

J. 

Judd  Sylvester 559 

K. 

Kendal  Samuel,  D.D 176 


PAGE. 

Kirkland  John  Thornton,  D.  D.  LL.  D.  261 

L. 
Lathrop  John, D.D 68 

M. 

Mayhew  Jonathan,  D.D 22 

Mottey  Joseph 125 

N. 
Norton  Andrews 480 

P- 

Packard  Hczekiah,  D.D 281 

Parker  Nathan,  D.D 411 

Parkman  Francis,  D.D 449 

Peabodv  Wm.  Bourne  Oliver,  D.D...    493 

Pierce  John,  D.  D 331 

Porter  Eliphalet,  D.D 157 

Priestley  Joseph.  LL.  D 298 

Prince  John,  LL.  D 128 

R. 

Reed  John,  D.  D 148  ' 

Ripley  Ezra,  D.D 112 

s. 

Sanders  Daniel  Clarke,  D.D 226 

Sanger  Zedekiah,  D.  D 99 

Sherman  J<.)hn 326 

Shute  Daniel,  D.D 18 

Simmons  George  Frederick 554 

Stearns  Charles,  D.D 147 

Symmes  William,  D.D 35 

T. 

Thacher  Samuel  Cooper 435 

Thacher  Thomas 140 

Tha.\ter  Joseph 83 

Thayer  Nathaniel,  D.D 246 

Tuckerman  Joseph,  D.D 345 

w. 

Ware  Henry,  D.D 199 

Ware  Henry  Jr.,  D.  D 472 

Ware  William 511 

Wells  George  Wadsworth 528 

Wells  William,  D.D 254 

West  Samuel,  D.  D.  (of  New  Bedford)  37 

West  Samuel,  D.D.  (of  Boston)  ....  50 

White  William  Hunt 533 

Whitman  Bernard 518 

Whitman  Jason 552 

Withington  Hiram 567 

Worcester  Noah,  D.  D 191 

Y. 

Young  Alexander,  D.D 524 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 

OP    THE 

KAMES   OF   THOSE   WHO   HAVE   FURNISHED   ORIGINAL   LETTERS. 


■A..  PAGE. 

Abbot  Abiel,  D.  D. .  35,  59,  268,  290,  320 

329 

Abbot  Benjamin,  LL.  D 470 

Abbot  Kev.  Ephraim 323,  533 

Allen  Rev.  George 4 

Allen  Joseph,  D.  D...  .513,  522,  526,  554 
Allen  Rev.  Morrill 30 

B. 

Bancroft  Hon.  George,  LL.  D 138 

Bartol  Cyrus  Augustus,  D.  D 530 

Bates  Joshua,  D.  D 393 

Bellas  Hugh,  Esq 305 

Bellows  Henry  W.,  D.  D 514 

Blagden  George  W.,  D.  D 196 

Boutwell  lion.  George  S.,LL.  D....  532 

Brlgham  Rev.  Charles  H 291 

BuUiuch  Thomas,  Esq 485 

c. 

Calhoun  Hon.  William  B.,  LL.  D. . . .   501 

Clarke  James  Freeman,  D.  D 162 

Crosby  Jaazaniah,  D.  D 432,  444 

D. 

Dewey  Orville,  D.  D 372 

E. 

Emerson  George  B.,  LL.  D 531 

Emerson  Ralph  Waldo 117,  244 

Emery  Miss  Margaret  T 187,  498 

Everett  Hon.  Edward,  LL.  D 399 

F. 

Farley  Frederick  A.,  D.  D 174 

Field  Joseph,  D.D 151 

Flint  James,  D.D 146 

Forsyth  John,  D.D 341,  356 

Francis  Convers,  D.D 210 

Frothingham  N.'  L.,  D.  D 12 

G. 

Gannett  Rev.  Allen 126 

Gilman  Samuel,  D.D 504 

H. 

Hall  Edward  B.,D.  D 479 

Hall  Rev.  Nathanael 570 

Hedge  Frederick  IL,  D.D 342 

Hooker  Edward  W.,  D.D 370 

Hosmer  G.  W.,  D.D 118,  550 

Howard  Bezaleel,  D.D 12 

Huntington  Frederick  Dan,  D.  D 454 

Hurd  Isaac,  D.D 453 


J  '  PAGE. 

Jarvis  Edward,  M.  D 121 

Jarvis  Hon.  William 107 

Jenks  William,  D.D 97 

Jones  Joseph  IL,  D.  D 238 

K. 

Kendall  James,  D.  D 33,  179 

L. 

Lamson  Alvan,  D.D 180,  273 

Leonard  Levi  W.,  D.  D 102 

Lincoln  Rev.  Calvin 90 

Lincoln  Hon.  Levi,  LL.  D 137 

Lincoln  Hon.  Solomon 5,     18 

Livermore  Rev.  A.  A 206 

Lowell  Charles,  D.  D.,  49,  72, 104, 161,  244 

M. 

May  Rev.  Samuel  J...  172,  429,  465,  488 
Morison  J.  H.,  D.  D 37 

N. 

Norton  Professor  Andrews 442 

0. 

Osgood  Samuel,  D.  D.  (of  Springfield)  141 

221,  425,  503,  558 

Osgood  Samuel,  D.  D.  (of  New  York)  557 

P. 

Packard  Professor  A.  S 284 

Palfrey  Cazneau,  D.  D 357,  551 

Palfrey  John  G.,D.  D.,  LL.  D 403 

Parkman  Francis,  D.D 110 

Peabody  A.  P.,  D.  D. .  207,  317.  410,  413 

418,  434,  513,  518 
Peabody  Mi.ss  Elizabeth  P..  253,  279,  3-54 

378,  409,  490,  544 

Peabody  Ephraim,  D.D 376 

Pierce  John,  D.  D.,  54,  65,  68,  83,  93,  108 

160,  215,  241,  444 

Pitkin  Thomas  C.  D.  D 566 

Putnam  George,  D.D 203,  338 

Q. 

Quincy  Hon.  Josiah,  LL.  D 82,     98 

R. 

Richardson  Rev.  Joseph 59 

s. 

Sewall  Rev.  Samuel 152,  422 

Simmons  Rev.  George  F 544 

Smith  Rev.  Samuel  A 240 


576 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


PAGE. 

Spragne  Hon.  Joseph  E 130,  156 

Stearns  William  A.,  D.  D 276 

Stone  Rev.  Micah 109 

T. 
Tuckerman  Henry  T . ,  Esq 350 

u. 

Upham  Rev.  Charles  Wentworth,  273,  447 

w. 

Waldo  Rev.  Daniel  ....'...  .184,  270,  340 

Walker  James,  D.  D.,  LL.  D 433 

V^^arren  John  C,  M.  D 406 


PAGE. 

Wells  William,  Esq 254 

West  Samuel,  M.  D 48 

Whipple  Edwin  P.,  Esq. 455 

Whitman  Rev.  Nathaniel 61,  149,  224 

Wight  Rev.  John  B 163 

Willard  Samuel,  D.  D.. .  4,  185,  250,  260 

482 

Williams  Rev.  Eleazer 228 

Winthrop  Hon.  Robert  C,  LL.  D...   526 

Withington  Leonard,  D.  D 448 

Worcester  Thomas,  D.  D 1^8 

Y. 

Young  Alexander,  D.  D 270 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX 


NAMES  INCIDENTALLY  INTRODUCED  EITHER  IN  THE  TEXT  OR  THE  NOTES. 


PAGE. 

Abbot  Benjamin 466 

Adams   Amos 158 

Adams  Cornelius 234 

Adams  Joseph 14 

Adams  Moses 115 

Adams    Phineas 222 

Adams  Thomas 67 

Adams  Zabdiel 462 

Allen  Isaac 173 

Allen  Wilkes 58 

Barker  James 292 

Barker  Joseph 292 

Bayley  Josiah 15 

Beede  Thomas 243 

Billings  Edward 10 

Bowman  Joseph 10 

Bradford   Alden 209 

Bridge  Ebenezer 58 

Brown  John 6 

Bryant  Lemuel 6 

Burnap  G.  AY.,  D.  D xvi 

Burnap  Jacob,  D.  D 133 

Carpenter  Ezra 3 

Channing  Henry 361 

Church  Selden 192 

Clark  Samuel 244 

Colman  Henry 213 

Conant   Sylvanus 292 

Gushing  Jonathan 74 

Dorby  Jonathan 3 

Dunbar  Asa 15 

Dunbar  Elijah 58 

Eaton  John  Hubbard 224 

Eaton  Peter  Sidney 224 

Edes  Henry,  D.  D 95 

Emerson  Daniel 56 

Estabrook  Experience 192 

Fletcher  Nathaniel  Hill 230 

Flint  Timothy 409 

Foster  Edmond 534 

Francis  Convers,  D.  D 209,  210 

Frink  Tiiomas 10 

Gardner  Francis 249 

Gilnian  Samuel,  D.  D 848,  349 

Vol.  VHI.  37 


PAGE. 

Gray  Frederick  Tarell 349 

Green  Joseph 3 

Green  Joseph ,  Jr 8 

Gurney  David 427 

Hartwell  Jonas 144 

Haven  Thomas 133 

Hobby  William 132 

Holcomb  Reuben 446 

Holley  Horace,  LL.  D 265,  266 

Holmes  Caleb 428 

Hooper  Hezekiah 101 

Ilurd  Isaac,  D.  D 179 

Kendall  James,  D.  D 427,  428 

Kent  Benjamin 208 

Kimball  David  Tenney 316 

Lawrence  William 534 

Lazell  Ebenezer 101 

Little  Daniel 230 

Little  Robert xix 

Locke  Samuel,  D.D 99,  100 

Lovejoy  Elijah  Parish 365 

Lowell  Charles,  D.D 390,  391 

Mason  William 358 

Messenger  Roswell 115 

Moore  Jonathan 48 

Morey  George 223 

Morse  Ebenezer 216 

Newell  Jonathan 54 

Nichols  Ichabod,  D.D 423 

Norton  John 1 

Nourse  Peter 179 

Osgood  Jonathan 534 

Peabody  Oliver  William  Bourne  ....   500 

Perkins  Daniel 143 

Pipon  John 265 

Prentice  Caleb 158 

Sawyer  Moses 198 

Shaw  Bezaleel 427 

Shaw  John 427 

Shaw  John,  Jr 427 

Shaw  Oakes 427 

Shnttlesworth  Samuel 136 

Spring  Alpheus 282 

Stearns  Daniel  Mansfield 149 

Stearns  William  Lawrence 149 


578 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX. 


PAGE. 

Steward  Antipas 183 

Sumner  Joseph 136 

Sumner  Samuel 136 

Taft  Moses 427 

Thayer  Ebenezer 246 

Tilton  Nathan 209 

Townsend  Shearjashub  Bourne 95 

Warren  Silas 358 

Waterman   Jotham 33 

Watson  Samuel 101 

Welch  Francis 230 

Wells  William 449 


PAGE. 

West  Thomas 50,     51 

Whitcomb  Elihu 248 

White  John 116 

Whitman  Kilborn 144 

Willard  Joseph 411 

Willard  Samuel,  D.  D 248,  249 

Williams  Avery 179 

Williams  Henry 179 

Wilson  James 101 

Worcester  Thomas. 193,  194 

Wright  Phineas 58 

Wyeth  John 158 


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